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anthonyframe.bsky.social
Anthony Frame
@anthonyframe.bsky.social
1.8K followers 1.5K following 260 posts
Poet in Residence at Frame's Pest Control. Toriphile. X-Men fanatic. Editor/Publisher glasspoetry.bsky.social . Book: Main Street Rag. Chapbook: Sibling Rivalry Press.

http://www.glass-poetry.com/anthonyframe.html
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anthonyframe.bsky.social
Anthony Frame @anthonyframe.bsky.social · Oct 21
For anyone who needs it, here's a hug from our garden 💛
Photo of a recently pulled carrot that looks like two carrots hugging each other.
anthonyframe.bsky.social
One minute and the @havehashad.com submission portal was already closed. No tickets for me 😂
This feels like I'm getting Taylor Swift tickets and I hate Taylor Swift
January 14, 2026 at 5:04 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
susanlleary.bsky.social
New poem, same muse. Thank you to @anthonyframe.bsky.social for making space for this one in @glasspoetry.bsky.social, a journal I have loved for so very long.

You can also listen here: www.glass-poetry.com/journal.html

Holding the world in my heart, as well. 💙
Found Poem Built of Endings I arrive at your mixed messaging scribbled in the upper left-hand corner of the margin: Everyone is feeling down & everyone is feeling better. On top of that, the use of an underline for emphasis. Because (I can only guess): guns. Because a few more hours. Because a confiscated book. Because in September, the surveilled field will arrive as a mirror reflecting the months that were most uncomfortable. Even here, the stark definition of a boy apocalypse. Stolid body, rattled heart: a gas molecule simulating a solid, that in your orange jumpsuit you appear just fine, though not as believably as the hummingbird that lent its heart to the failing engine of a car. Remind me, is it the freedom of monotony or the monotony of freedom? In merely waiting? In merely attempting to convince another of an idea also unknown to me? In humbly confessing, I could have sworn something else was going to happen today — I guess I was wrong. This poem is part of a larger series of response poems to the journal entries my brother penned while serving 90 days in county jail during the summer of 2020 for addiction-related offenses. More specifically, my brother kept a daily journal with the intent that I would write an accompanying poem for each entry. Though the world told him otherwise, he believed his voice mattered, and we hoped to publish our work together. Eight days after being released, he passed away from a drug overdose, which means our project and his "text" have since taken on new meaning. He often said jail was one ending after another after another, that no activity was given the dignity of completion: sleeping, reading a book, a game of cards, using the tablet. This poem speaks to that characterization, as well as my brother's fear that eventually he'd grow immune to such treatment. The italicized text is excerpted from his journal entry dated 8/29/20.
January 8, 2026 at 10:25 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
Cover of X-Men 136
January 12, 2026 at 1:45 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
Look, I know everything is terrible and the world is a dumpster fire and many of us are terrified of whatever hellscape notification is going to pop up next, so I think it's important to take a second and remember that, when he was a young man, Sir David Attenborough was a 100% certifiable hottie.
A young David Attenborough looking pretty hot A young David Attenborough looking pretty hot A young David Attenborough looking pretty hot
January 5, 2026 at 12:02 AM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
Happiest of holidays, everyone 💛
Christmas Poem The part I'm most interested in is the part where he's also 100% human, the part where he's a budding baby reaching for his mother's milk, where he sees the world around him but isn't sure how big it is. I imagine him learning to talk, his tongue testing its limits, his mind tasting each syllable as they stretch through his throat. And that first wobbly step, did he smile, did he shine with pride like the clouds in all those paintings? I forget, sometimes, that he was a boy, chasing snakes or digging holes in the sand, playing desert games with the other desert boys. I like him that way, human, flesh and bone and muscle, a scrapped knee, a wondering eye as it watches the birds soaring through the sky. I know there's more to him than me, but even if he's all you say, I'm not sure that's the best part. The best part is the idea that god could have a little bit of me in him, that even god's voice, once in a while, might crack in the middle of a song. I like that like I like the man looking up, looking beyond the clouds, beyond even the stars. I can believe in the man who looked at the sky and, like me, sighed with longing.
December 24, 2025 at 5:41 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
So incredibly proud of my mother in law who, yesterday, finished 12 weeks of chemotherapy. She's kicking that cancer's butt like the heavyweight champ we've always known she is.
My mother in law ringing the bell after completing 12 weeks of chemotherapy
December 9, 2025 at 5:11 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
This grocery store has gone all in on the holiday season by playing, so far, Nirvana ("Lithium"), Guns N Roses ("Welcome to the Jungle"), and Garbage ("Queer").
December 5, 2025 at 11:22 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
asteralesjournal.bsky.social
Relationships, music, poetry, and heavenly bodies interact and eclipse one another in this poem by @anthonyframe.bsky.social

asteralesjournal.com/1-4-frame-sq...
White wall with the shadow of leaves cast upon it. Black text that reads "As the garden starts to silence, I think, Is this what it's like to hear/a god? I want to scream like a star exploding, but instead I sit/and hold my wife's hand and wait" From Reading Rosebud Ben-Oni's Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS While Listening to Tori Amos's Cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart During the Total Solar Eclipse" by Anthony Frame
December 4, 2025 at 7:55 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
Well, that Ohio Arts Council grant panel review could have gone *a lot* worse
December 4, 2025 at 3:35 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
Just started Katabasis by R.F. Kuang and... wow this is a fun read.
November 26, 2025 at 12:40 AM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
davidjbauman.bsky.social
A note by @anthonyframe.bsky.social on Threads reminded me: November deadlines. Are not in my budget due to the adding up of submission fees. I know it’s an evil empire, but Google forms or just email would work fine. I’ve used email as an editor just fine.
November 25, 2025 at 8:52 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
casual reminder that saying you're interested in submissions from underprivileged and underrepresented writers falls a little flat when you're also charging folks to submit
anthonyframe.bsky.social Anthony Frame @anthonyframe.bsky.social · Nov 24
literally just checked 25 journals I was going to submit to and every one of them charges a fee.
November 24, 2025 at 4:37 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
literally just checked 25 journals I was going to submit to and every one of them charges a fee.
November 24, 2025 at 4:08 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
gods I hate Submitable
November 7, 2025 at 4:11 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
glasspoetry.bsky.social
Today on Glass!

"Surrender" by Erin Wilson!

www.glass-poetry.com/journal.html
Image of a leaf with a drop of dew Text: We met at the intersection of frost and fruit. "Surrender" Erin Wilson
November 5, 2025 at 1:30 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
Hey hivemind - I'm working on a meeting agenda for my crew of pest control technicians &, because I'm me, I wanna add some poetry.

Soooo --

Favorite poems about work? Preferably not ones called "What Work Is" by Philip Levine.

(yes, I love that poem, but I've already bugged my techs with it lol)
October 29, 2025 at 10:57 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
New office pets!
Tarantula in a tarantula pen with a sign behind that says "Bee happy" Tarantula in a tarantula pen with a sign behind that says "Bee"
October 28, 2025 at 1:28 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
wait he has a tattoo of what where
a cartoon of a robot that says that 's it i 'm out
Alt: a cartoon of a robot that says that 's it i 'm out
media.tenor.com
October 22, 2025 at 5:21 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
jillkitchen.bsky.social
"she says, “Be here with me.” But I’m not,
I’m thirteen, singing in the shower, thinking about supernovas." I love this piece and all of the gorgeous layering!
October 21, 2025 at 2:03 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
sarahmillswrites.bsky.social
I want to scream like a star exploding

@anthonyframe.bsky.social in @asteralesjournal.bsky.social ✨
1.4 Frame-Squillante — Asterales: A Journal of Arts and Letters
www.asteralesjournal.com
October 21, 2025 at 2:49 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
anthonyframe.bsky.social
ICYMI ⬇️ ⬇️
anthonyframe.bsky.social Anthony Frame @anthonyframe.bsky.social · Oct 20
OMG! Thanks @djvorreyer.bsky.social & Rachel Bunting for incl my poem, "Reading @rosebudbenoni.bsky.social's Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS" While Listening to Tori Amos' Cover of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" During the Total Solar Eclipse" in the new @asteralesjournal.bsky.social!

tinyurl.com/23fn5cp6
Reading Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS While Listening to Tori Amos’ Cover of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” During the Total Solar Eclipse Anthony Frame - for Chris Cornell I understand, sun: every now and then, I want to disappear, too. I’m determined to hear the birds, the soft bellows of their throats anchoring this moment. Lost and long, I steal this day with my wife, holding hands as we stumble along the unfinished path through the garden. We’re told not to look directly so we look at each other or we close our eyes and listen, sunrays washing our arms. There’s a part of me that wants to blast “Black Hole Sun” on the record player but she says, “Be here with me.” But I’m not, I’m thirteen, singing in the shower, thinking about supernovas. The moon is on the move, shadows starting to startle the birds. As the garden starts to silence, I think, Is this what it’s like to hear a god? I want to scream like a star exploding, but instead I sit and hold my wife’s hand and wait. Perhaps, we need a new cosmology, a new language, a new sequence of mysteries. As a child, I wanted to disappear, to separate into droplets of air, rinsed clean and clear. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to shatter so bright my light would reach the edges of the galaxy. The sun seems to dissolve behind the moon and the silence covers us but it lasts just under two minutes and then, like a birth, the birds start singing again. Every now and then, I’ve wanted my voice to rise so high it might achieve escape velocity. I start to hum, knowing these sounds I hope to harvest can’t go on forever, some of the waves, faced off against friction, will dissipate. But some will shift, boiling beneath the atmosphere, turning themselves around until they turn into heat. My wife puts her hand on my chest to still me. The sun is a squall of fire singing itself raw within a vacuum, but the moon holds its voice beneath its surface. I lean against my wife, wordless, Cover of Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS Tori Amos' Cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart Soundgarden Black Hole Sun LP
October 20, 2025 at 8:14 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
ICYMI ⬇️ ⬇️
anthonyframe.bsky.social Anthony Frame @anthonyframe.bsky.social · Oct 20
OMG! Thanks @djvorreyer.bsky.social & Rachel Bunting for incl my poem, "Reading @rosebudbenoni.bsky.social's Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS" While Listening to Tori Amos' Cover of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" During the Total Solar Eclipse" in the new @asteralesjournal.bsky.social!

tinyurl.com/23fn5cp6
Reading Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS While Listening to Tori Amos’ Cover of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” During the Total Solar Eclipse Anthony Frame - for Chris Cornell I understand, sun: every now and then, I want to disappear, too. I’m determined to hear the birds, the soft bellows of their throats anchoring this moment. Lost and long, I steal this day with my wife, holding hands as we stumble along the unfinished path through the garden. We’re told not to look directly so we look at each other or we close our eyes and listen, sunrays washing our arms. There’s a part of me that wants to blast “Black Hole Sun” on the record player but she says, “Be here with me.” But I’m not, I’m thirteen, singing in the shower, thinking about supernovas. The moon is on the move, shadows starting to startle the birds. As the garden starts to silence, I think, Is this what it’s like to hear a god? I want to scream like a star exploding, but instead I sit and hold my wife’s hand and wait. Perhaps, we need a new cosmology, a new language, a new sequence of mysteries. As a child, I wanted to disappear, to separate into droplets of air, rinsed clean and clear. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to shatter so bright my light would reach the edges of the galaxy. The sun seems to dissolve behind the moon and the silence covers us but it lasts just under two minutes and then, like a birth, the birds start singing again. Every now and then, I’ve wanted my voice to rise so high it might achieve escape velocity. I start to hum, knowing these sounds I hope to harvest can’t go on forever, some of the waves, faced off against friction, will dissipate. But some will shift, boiling beneath the atmosphere, turning themselves around until they turn into heat. My wife puts her hand on my chest to still me. The sun is a squall of fire singing itself raw within a vacuum, but the moon holds its voice beneath its surface. I lean against my wife, wordless, Cover of Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS Tori Amos' Cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart Soundgarden Black Hole Sun LP
October 20, 2025 at 8:14 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
anthonyframe.bsky.social
OMG! Thanks @djvorreyer.bsky.social & Rachel Bunting for incl my poem, "Reading @rosebudbenoni.bsky.social's Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS" While Listening to Tori Amos' Cover of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" During the Total Solar Eclipse" in the new @asteralesjournal.bsky.social!

tinyurl.com/23fn5cp6
Reading Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS While Listening to Tori Amos’ Cover of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” During the Total Solar Eclipse Anthony Frame - for Chris Cornell I understand, sun: every now and then, I want to disappear, too. I’m determined to hear the birds, the soft bellows of their throats anchoring this moment. Lost and long, I steal this day with my wife, holding hands as we stumble along the unfinished path through the garden. We’re told not to look directly so we look at each other or we close our eyes and listen, sunrays washing our arms. There’s a part of me that wants to blast “Black Hole Sun” on the record player but she says, “Be here with me.” But I’m not, I’m thirteen, singing in the shower, thinking about supernovas. The moon is on the move, shadows starting to startle the birds. As the garden starts to silence, I think, Is this what it’s like to hear a god? I want to scream like a star exploding, but instead I sit and hold my wife’s hand and wait. Perhaps, we need a new cosmology, a new language, a new sequence of mysteries. As a child, I wanted to disappear, to separate into droplets of air, rinsed clean and clear. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to shatter so bright my light would reach the edges of the galaxy. The sun seems to dissolve behind the moon and the silence covers us but it lasts just under two minutes and then, like a birth, the birds start singing again. Every now and then, I’ve wanted my voice to rise so high it might achieve escape velocity. I start to hum, knowing these sounds I hope to harvest can’t go on forever, some of the waves, faced off against friction, will dissipate. But some will shift, boiling beneath the atmosphere, turning themselves around until they turn into heat. My wife puts her hand on my chest to still me. The sun is a squall of fire singing itself raw within a vacuum, but the moon holds its voice beneath its surface. I lean against my wife, wordless, Cover of Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS Tori Amos' Cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart Soundgarden Black Hole Sun LP
October 20, 2025 at 2:48 PM
Reposted by Anthony Frame
djvorreyer.bsky.social
Issue 4 is live! @willmusgrove.bsky.social @charlesjensen.bsky.social @anthonyframe.bsky.social @jillkitchen.bsky.social @susanbarryschulz.com @sheilasquill.bsky.social and so many more...
asteralesjournal.bsky.social Asterales: A Journal of Arts & Letters @asteralesjournal.bsky.social · Oct 20
It’s here! Issue 4 is live today, featuring work from Sean Cho A, Sarah Mills, Allison Blevins, Jill Kitchen, Anthony Frame, Will Musgrove, Charles Jensen, Susan Barry-Schulz, Julia Biggs, Sheila Squillante, and Vishaal! #poetry #prose #visualart #literaryjournal #asterales

tinyurl.com/5h25zt3c
October 20, 2025 at 3:08 PM
anthonyframe.bsky.social
OMG! Thanks @djvorreyer.bsky.social & Rachel Bunting for incl my poem, "Reading @rosebudbenoni.bsky.social's Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS" While Listening to Tori Amos' Cover of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" During the Total Solar Eclipse" in the new @asteralesjournal.bsky.social!

tinyurl.com/23fn5cp6
Reading Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS While Listening to Tori Amos’ Cover of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” During the Total Solar Eclipse Anthony Frame - for Chris Cornell I understand, sun: every now and then, I want to disappear, too. I’m determined to hear the birds, the soft bellows of their throats anchoring this moment. Lost and long, I steal this day with my wife, holding hands as we stumble along the unfinished path through the garden. We’re told not to look directly so we look at each other or we close our eyes and listen, sunrays washing our arms. There’s a part of me that wants to blast “Black Hole Sun” on the record player but she says, “Be here with me.” But I’m not, I’m thirteen, singing in the shower, thinking about supernovas. The moon is on the move, shadows starting to startle the birds. As the garden starts to silence, I think, Is this what it’s like to hear a god? I want to scream like a star exploding, but instead I sit and hold my wife’s hand and wait. Perhaps, we need a new cosmology, a new language, a new sequence of mysteries. As a child, I wanted to disappear, to separate into droplets of air, rinsed clean and clear. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to shatter so bright my light would reach the edges of the galaxy. The sun seems to dissolve behind the moon and the silence covers us but it lasts just under two minutes and then, like a birth, the birds start singing again. Every now and then, I’ve wanted my voice to rise so high it might achieve escape velocity. I start to hum, knowing these sounds I hope to harvest can’t go on forever, some of the waves, faced off against friction, will dissipate. But some will shift, boiling beneath the atmosphere, turning themselves around until they turn into heat. My wife puts her hand on my chest to still me. The sun is a squall of fire singing itself raw within a vacuum, but the moon holds its voice beneath its surface. I lean against my wife, wordless, Cover of Rosebud Ben-Oni’s Turn Around, BRXGHT XYXS Tori Amos' Cover of Total Eclipse of the Heart Soundgarden Black Hole Sun LP
October 20, 2025 at 2:48 PM