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Robert van Vliet

@letterspace.org
562 followers 294 following 244 posts

Poet. St Paul, MN. Offline for October 2026. inventions (above/ground 2026) Vessels (Unsolicited 2024) This Folded Path (above/ground 2023) Blog: www.letterspace.org Homepage: www.robertvanvliet.com “Don’t give her money back.” he/him

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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 04/07/2026
This work is by Barbara Kruger: Untitled, 1991. Text stylized like the stars and stripes of the American flag. In the blue field, these words in white: LOOK FOR THE MOMENT WHEN PRIDE BECOMES CONTEMPT. In the red field, these word in white: WHO IS FREE TO CHOOSE? WHO IS BEYOND THE LAW? WHO IS HEALED? WHO IS HOUSED? WHO SPEAKS? WHO IS SILENCED? WHO SALUTES LONGEST? WHO PRAYS LOUDEST? WHO DIES FIRST? WHO LAUGHS LAST?
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 01/06/2026
The cover of XTC's Drums & Wires.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 09/05/2026
Hey, look what I found on my doorstep: it’s a box of chapbooks from above/ground press! @robmclennan.bsky.social
An opened cardboard box showing stacks of poetry chapbooks.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 27/03/2026
Some recent acquisitions.
Top to bottom:
Burgi Zenhaeusern: White Door
Wislawa Szymborska: MAP
Harryette Mullen: Regaining Unconsciousness
Terrance Hayes: American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin
Jane Zwart: Oddest & Oldest & Saddest & Best
Donna Vorreyer: Unrivered
Michael Bazzett: Cloudwatcher
Bernadette Mayer: The Golden Book of Words
Harry Mathews: Collected Poems 1946-2016
Ron Padgett: Very Collected Poems
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 16/01/2026
Current reading. I ordered it thru my local bookstore, and just picked it up this afternoon. cc/ @markscroggins.bsky.social
The Uncollected Louis Zukofsky, edited by Jeffrey Twitchell-Waas & Mark Scroggins.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 09/01/2026
Okay fine, here’s another.
how easy to think
of one's failings

disaster is often
a matter of vocabulary

shock grown ordinary
approachable

a fetish on the table
beside the salt
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 09/01/2026
My new chapbook comes out next week from above/ground press. It’s a bunch of prose poems with little poems and fragments dangling off the bottom of each one. (Like haibun? I dunno. Maybe.) Here’s one such dangler, a hay(na)ku:
peace can survive / anything even / paper
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2025
My book is one year old today! I haven’t done any readings since I returned to the classroom as a high school English teacher this year. Who knows, maybe in the spring. Anyway, thanks again to @unsolicitedpress.bsky.social for taking a chance on it.
My increasingly tattered author copy, with tabs and bookmarks, and a sheaf of paper stuck between the pages.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 15/12/2025
My next chapbook is even less imaginary today than it was yesterday. “inventions” is a collection of prose poems accompanied by short poems and fragments. Thanks to the perpetual @robmclennan.bsky.social, it will emerge from above/ground press in January.
A weird little doodle, which could be a figure crouching, contemplating a small orb in its hand, or could be a jaunty smiling creature with a swooping coiffe as an airborne serpent disguised as the letter M stoops down upon it.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 10/12/2025
Becoming Alter: Some new books that arrived in the house today. @luaz.bsky.social
Kyla Houbolt's "Becoming Altar: New and Selected Poems" atop the enormous three volume translation of the Hebrew Bible by Robert Alter. Altar, Alter. Get it? If only I still had my old copy of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure, "Third Planet from Altair." Hat trick!
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 23/11/2025
The existence of my next chapbook grows increasingly less implausible.
A weird little black and white doodle that vaguely resembles an upper case A tipping over, with a very long cross line and a small lower case n attached to its side. A dot hovers to its right. Around it, one faint square of graph paper frames but doesn't quite contain the doodle.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 01/11/2025
It’s entirely possible my next chapbook might coming out sometime in the near future.
An extreme close-up of a strange little doodle: a circle bisected by a line, with two dots, one inside the circle, one outside. Several other doodles are almost visisble around the edges of the screenshot.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 18/10/2025
A lively, joyous, noisy gathering in St Paul today. The peaceful, friendly crowd stretched many blocks in every direction along Fairview and Randolph.
Several American flags on the busy street lined with people. A man with a t-shirt that reads, "YOU WILL HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME," and a woman with a shirt that reads, "The horrors persist, and so do I."
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 22/09/2025
Good mail day! @henryghenrik.bsky.social
A copy of Henry Gould's newest book, Parmenides in Minneapolis, published by Contubernales Press.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 12/09/2025
Darn it, now I want some Hob Nobs.
chocolate oatmeal digestive biscuits
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 23/01/2025
There will be two book launches for Vessels: one online and one in St Paul. Both in February. More details soon!
My copy of Vessels with post-it flags sticking out
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 30/12/2024
When I travelled to NYC last week, I brought Pilgrim at Tinker Creek with me. It had, once, been very important to me but I don’t think I’d pulled off the shelf in thirty years. I wondered how familiar it would seem after so long. I started it on the plane. A few days later, I arrived at this page:
Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek: The old Kabbalistic phrase is “the Mystery of the Splintering of the Vessels.” The words refer to the shrinking or imprisonment of essences within the various husk-covered forms of emanation or time. The Vessels splintered and solar systems spun; ciliated rotifers whirled in still water, and newts with gills laid tracks in the silt-bottomed creek. Not only did the Vessels splinter: they splintered exceeding fine. Intricacy, then, is the subject, the intricacy of the created world.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
Jane Huffman:
A late addition to the great tradition of wisdom texts, Robert van Vliet’s Vessels attends to what it means to be alive in the anthropocene, an era of climate destruction and dislocation from the natural world. ¶ “That is / the puzzle for / every generation,” he poses, “to / fix what has / been fixed.” The poet’s gentle, prophetic voice ekes out an intrepid authority, half-whispered into the ear as “water whispers to / the seed as it lies / on its belly,” and the poems function as both meditations and instructions for use. “Speak / carefully,” he instructs in one of the book’s many near-adages, “or the / listening fish will mistake / your confusion for their order.” ¶ Guided by gnostic and transcendentalist thought and built on found materials and chance operations, these poems walk a wooded path, where there is refuge, dissonance, ash, strange magic, and where below the observable world is the “unforeseen” territory of the spirit. —Jane Huffman
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
Mark Scroggins:
Written—composed—assembled—or made, through processes both of aleatory and of careful composition, over the course of a moment of profound historical, social, and existential angst, the poems of Robert van Vliet’s Vessels are marvelous, echoing, delicate crystals of profound stillness. ¶ They resonate with wisdom—the vivid metaphors of the I Ching, Thoreau’s quotidian observations, ancient Gnosis. But these vessels of stillness shiver with the promise of both revelation and obliteration, leaving the reader moved and disquieted by van Vliet’s subtle lyric art. —Mark Scroggins
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
Henry Gould:
Robert van Vliet’s poems are, paradoxically, both quiet and powerful. With an understated idiom, they express remorse, unease, and struggle—while delivering, at the end, a sense of enigmatic wonder and peace. ¶ It is a balance of contraries. The poems are forthright, simple and clear : yet beneath their unobtrusive surface resides a well of glowing, flashing images; an urge toward existential reckoning. ¶ Simone Weil wrote : “Absolutely unmixed attention is prayer. If we turn our mind toward the good, it is impossible that little by little the whole soul will not be attracted thereto in spite of itself.” The challenging, obdurate, questing voice at the heart of Vessels is unmistakably authentic. It unfolds a basic sense of rightness—which offers, to the reader, a profound encounter with reality. —Henry Gould
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
Eileen R. Tabios:
“The sky remembers / what the tongue / can no longer pronounce” because the world, as well, is a vessel. Its containment may not be discernible because the world is vast. But world——like its word itself——holds all within its embrace. Such poses necessary implications, like “the hope of forgiveness” or like how one “work[s] on what / has been spoiled, not / dwelling too much on // who spoiled it and / why.” ¶ All creatures, such as humans, are also vessels but because we’re all within the same world, when we hear others as “the red / clay cracking in the empty lake. /…we must / help each other.” To live in a shared vessel also means the relevance of courage: “the tree is more than its reach.” ¶ Robert van Vliet’s Vessels is not only moving and engaging poetry; its words also have crafted a worthwhile lesson that can be summed up by the book’s beautiful raison d’etre: “Every straight line / is perfectly round.” —Eileen R. Tabios
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
Patrick Pritchett, Richard Jeffrey Newman, and Mark Young:
The poems in Robert van Vliet's debut collection murmur with quiet affirmations of being-in-the-world; the sounds the earth makes when no one is listening but which, nevertheless, pulse with fragile urgency. Vessels performs a book-length meditation on evanescence and the deep pleasures of the immediate. The reader who surrenders to these richly enigmatic poems will find themselves floating inside the aviaries of Logos, ready to embrace the gifts of spirit. —Patrick Pritchett ¶ Language is both the landscape of meaning in which we live and a tool for exploring, shaping, and reshaping that landscape. Rooted in operations that make use of both those truths, the poems in Robert van Vliet's Vessels illuminate with a laser-sharp clarity the path one consciousness has taken in order to build, moment of perception by moment of perception, a meaning for his life. It's a path well worth walking with him. You will learn important lessons about what it takes and what it feels like to make that journey for yourself. —Richard Jeffrey Newman ¶ Vessels is a spiritual text, a canticle, but not necessarily a denominational one. A catechism in the sense it is an exposition of belief, where the mysteries of nature & relationships are the divinities. It is a communion with oneself, with others, with the great beyond. It is a thoughtful & thought-provoking compendium of answers to those questions we needed someone more astute than ourselves to ask. —Mark Young
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
I am still astonished and humbled by the generous, acute attention Vessels received from its early readers, such as Claire Wahmanholm:
In Vessels, Robert van Vliet works as a medium, reminding us that foundational texts—in this case the I Ching, Thoreau’s writings, and the Nag Hammadi library—can constitute us as much as the news cycle. Here, past fortitude and present urgency scrape against each other like tectonic plates. In the tradition of such wisdom literature, van Vliet’s poems are koan-like, gnomic, paradoxical, shot through with uncertainty and stitched together with guesswork. But they are also unmistakably tangible: van Vliet shuffles the natural world and fans its elements before us like tarot cards—“a flat cloud stained like a bloody liver”; “a nest of hair above the dry lake”; “thunder swim[ming] over the mountains.” The subject matter of Vessels is nothing less than the act of poetic creation. Van Vliet invites us to consider how and why we make poetry, and how we might use it to survive these times.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/12/2024
It’s publication day for my strange little book! Order a copy here.
Vessels was written during a time of disquiet, isolation, and absences, when each day was folded over on itself, false and empty. To keep working, Robert van Vliet challenged himself to build a ten-line poem each day that needed to include five words and a line or fragment from a book, all chosen randomly through chance operations. ¶ He knew that he was too swamped by the quotidian to allow himself to choose the words—they would be nothing but fear, mask, Covid, police, racist, murder, climate, rage… The chance operations allowed him to leave most of the decisions until the very moment he began composing. ¶ The result is a collection of three suites, each seeking a path beyond the polarity of either willfully ignoring the appalling spectacle of those pandemic years or being angrily transfixed by it. Three paths out of mute heartbreak and toward a third space of hope, presence, spirit.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/11/2024
My author copies of Vessels have arrived! I guess it's a real thing now. Publication day is in exactly one month. You can preorder a copy here: www.unsolicitedpress.com/shop/p/preor...
A copy of my book lying on an ottoman; a fire in the fireplace in the background.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 18/09/2024
By an astonishing coincidence, if you take my Bluesky number, multiply it by 8,332,913 and add 119,669, you get the ISBN of my debut book of poetry, Vessels, which will be published in exactly two months, and which is already available for preorder! Uncanny! www.unsolicitedpress.com/store/p492/v...
Yet another screenshot of my Bluesky number because apparently I can't stop flogging this dead horse.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/09/2024
I am the new #2.
Thomas Pynchon from the Simpsons with a paper bag over his head with a large black question mark and eye holes.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/09/2024
—Who are you? —I am #2. You are #1173894. —I am not a number! I am a free man!
A Bluesky badge celebrating 10 million members, and informing me that I'm member #1173896 and that I joined on 22 Sept 2023.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 17/09/2024
This is a higher number than I was expecting. It looks like my first anniversary is coming up. I got an invite code while laid up with the worst cold I’d had in decades (& the first time I’d been sick since before Covid (& I still haven’t had Covid (& I’m not sure how I’ve avoided this long))).
A Bluesky badge celebrating 10 million members, and informing me that I'm member #1173896 and that I joined on 22 Sept 2023.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 22/06/2024
My book, Vessels, will not come out until right before the southern Summer solstice. But today, just after the northern Summer solstice, it is now available for preorder. www.unsolicitedpress.com/store/p492/v... And will you look at that cover.
The detail of a leaf, mostly pale green with darker green veins, fading to deep red at its spine, and the text 'VESSELS Robert van Vliet' printed vertically on one side.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 08/02/2024
Now playing:
cover image for the Pauline Oliveros album, Ghostdance, showing a black and white photo of a bare room with a person moving near the far wall; the photo was taken with a long shutter time, so the room is saturated with light from the two windows, and the figure is blurred and indistinct, ghostly in her movements
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 04/02/2024
But you can’t explain the butterfly. —Russell Hoban, Pilgermann (1983) #SA4QE
A passage from Russell Hoban's 1983 novel, Pilgermann: A story is what remains when you leave out most of the action; a story is a coherent sequence of picture cards: One: Samson in the vineyards of Timnah; Two: the lion comes roaring at Samson; Three: Samson tears the lion apart. That’s a story but actually the main part of the action may have been that there was a butterfly in Samson’s field of vision the whole time. The picture cards don’t show the butterfly because if they did they would have to explain it. But you can’t explain the butterfly.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 04/02/2024
…swimming, swimming, the eye held by the sun, no sharks in the mind, nothing in the mind. —Russell Hoban, Turtle Diary (1975) #SA4QE
In honor of Russell Hoban's 99th birthday, a passage from his 1975 novel, Turtle Diary, printed on yellow paper and pinned to a fridge with two magnets shaped like sea turtles. Full text of the quoted passage is available here: https://www.letterspace.org/turtle-diary/
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 04/02/2024
I always feel good in museums. I like the high ceilings and the acoustics, the footsteps and the voices, the silence over and under the footsteps and voices and the individual silences of each thing, all of them holding a long-departed Now. —Russell Hoban, The Bat Tattoo (2002) #SA4QE
A series of doorways in a museum receding into the distance, with several paintings hanging from the walls. The galleries are empty.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 31/12/2023
This was long overdue. I deactivated it last November, but turned it back on a few weeks later to save my following/follower list. Then it lay dormant & forgotten for most of the year, except for some DMs to people who were still nowhere else & who were seemingly impervious to email. It’s time.
Screenshot of my deactivated Twitter account, with the message: This account doesn't exist. Try searching for another.
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 03/11/2023
Now playing:
Cover image for My Life in a Bush of Ghosts, the 1981 album by Brian Eno and David Byrne, showing stylized humanoid figures scattered over a light backgound; the title and artists' names appear in all-caps along the top of the cover in red letters
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 22/10/2023
Now playing:
Cover image for the Stereolab album Margerine Eclipse, showing an orange field with a series of white concentric circles and ovals with several teardrop shapes, and the name of the band and album title, and several song titles and lyric fragments in smaller lettering
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 19/10/2023
Now playing:
Cover image for the improvised not-not-jazz album Made Out Of Sound, showing Chris Corsano on drums and Bill Orcutt on electric guitar
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 15/10/2023
Now playing:
Cover image for Bach's Cello Suites by Dutch cellist Anner Bylsma, performed in the Stradivarius violoncello 'Servais' from the Smithsonian collection; issued by the Vivarte (Sony Classical) label; the cover shows a painting of a Rennaissance-era player tuning a cello
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 11/10/2023
My author copies of This Folded Path have arrived from Ottawa! Now I’m just working out how to take money from those of you who wish to buy a copy directly from me. Paypal will probably be involved. Stay tuned.
An opened cardboard box with many chapbooks within, stacked neatly in two piles
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 09/10/2023
Now playing:
Cover image for the album Cool With That by Jazz improv quartet East Axis, showing a red sphere balanced on top of a purple cone in a bare grey space
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 30/09/2023
Now playing:
cover image for McCoy Tyner's album The Real McCoy, showing the pianist sitting at the keyboard, sleeves rolled up, looking off to one side (Joe Henderson on saxophone, Ron Carter on bass, Elvin Jones on drums)
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Robert van Vliet @letterspace.org · 28/09/2023
New from above/ground press: my chapbook, This Folded Path.
close-up of a fallen log at night, lit from one side by a car's headlights, showing the tree rings in stark light and shadow
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