Welcome Bushwick Daily’s New Poetry Column: The Z-Line


Chris Nold

[email protected]

When Emanuel Xavier, curator of the Bushwick Bohemia Beat Poetry column, announced last month that his monthly feature would be ending with his departure from the area, I felt it important not to allow the writing of Bushwick poets to lose a home here at Bushwick Daily.

Going forward, Chris Nold (that’s me), a longtime neighborhood resident, will be at the helm of a new monthly column, “The Z-Line: Bushwick Poetry,” featuring poems by local Bushwick residents. Poems can be about anything (not exclusive to Bushwick), but contributors must live within the greater Bushwick area or be a native to the neighborhood to be featured.

If you would like to be included in this monthly series, send 3-5 poems (10 pages max) to [email protected] with the subject “The Z-Line Poetry Submission.” Poems should be attached as Word documents, 10 point, Times New Roman font, double spaced and formatted as they should appear on the site if selected. Please include a brief 3-5 sentence bio and your personal relation to Bushwick. If submitting previously published work, please include appropriate publication credits. You’ll only receive an email if your poem is selected for publication.

Submissions are due by the first of every month, and the selected entry will be published in the final week of the following month. Current deadline is May 1.

Today, let me kick off this reboot with a couple of poems from an upcoming project, represented by the mythical powers of a subway train I know exists but have never come in contact with, one that gives this column its name. My previous works include “RHINO,” “Goodnight, Goat” and “Paid Extra,” self-published poetry chapbooks that are available on Amazon.

I look forward to seeing what you got, Bushwick!


The guy watching

a rather rudimentary

threesome on his phone

was replaced

at Lorimer

by another guy

this one watching

a Hitler documentary.

Oh, how many things

had to break right

for Steve Jobs

in order for us

to get to this point

in 2019,

I can’t help but wonder.

Huh? That noise, was

that a, yeah, that guy

just cracked open

a beer.

I guess it’s been

a long day

even when the sun sets

at 4:54.

“(message send failure)”

    No recipient.

The casual Friday postal worker

dropping off nondescript packages

at 8pm unsettles me.


The clumsy choreography

of ambulance and cyclist

passing slowly by.

    No subtitles.

There’s no way to change

the channel on this

laundromat TV set

and no one here

with the authority to


    No bars.

Cover photo courtesy of Travis American.

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