The Poetry by Zachary Forrest y Salazar

Last night, I had the opportunity to talk to a former colleague from Slack.

Every time I go to Paris, I inevitably find myself sitting on the Seine, imagining myself an editor at the Three Mountains Press—as if I were Pound or Hemingway.

Not a normal day for a newsletter.

Bonjour.

I was given a really good link this week that plops right into the center of the Venn diagram of my life: Adversarial Poetry as a Universal Single-Turn Jailbreak Mechanism in Large Language Models.

Writing is a strange process.

Last week, if you remember, I talked about a poem from Ellen Bryant Voight, and then posted a first draft where I wrote an after-poem, trying to get a feel for her use of enjambment and cadence and imagery.

A few weeks ago, Ellen Bryant Voigt died.

Last week, the company I work for flew all of their employees to Phoenix.

Last weekend, while writing downtown at a local brewery I'm fond of, a woman sat down next to me.

To this day, I still wish I had been smart enough for a career in physics.

Last night, before the rains came, I ventured outside my house.

⚠️ Feel free to skip ahead to "Today's Poem".

I love finding the past lives of poems.

Apologies for the late newsletter.