Archive for April 2019
Ruth Woolson, Reminiscence
The organ played – harshly, sadly and slowIt would render a solemn tune, muted by a distant black crowAlone in the field the bird cackled aloudDrawing glares and scowls from…
Read MoreCarol Stowe, TERROR
When you are only 3 or 4 the terror will render you frozenMuted from the ability to cry out in fear, From expressing the horror that would be likely to…
Read MoreChristopher Stephen Soden, The Burden of Yearning Heavenward
Oh, to emerge in shining fettle, abandon the crush of terror, bask in obscure shadow of bliss. Aching for absence to reveal the source, the escape from chaos. Once…
Read MoreAlexis Diano Sikorski, from every overemotional teenager with a really bad crush
you left me bent, gravity-bound to you— adrenaline scoring her nails down my back, an opera, prima donna sustaining a quavering note of such urgency an organ is driven through…
Read MoreValentina Saldaña, tHE aRTISTIC vIOLENCE oF hYPOCRISY
I welcome all of you to my sumptuous feast, not everyone was invited. I feel duty bound to warn you that some manifestations are not always what they seem. I…
Read MoreIsabella Russell-Ides, Thanatopsis Redux
She speaks a various language.* Bound in the bardo bereft vaguely present, almost dead.For fucking shining aloud let me back in. Come again, sustaining terrorCarve my shadow on your cave…
Read MoreGayle Reaves-King, All Fall Down
Emerge shining, misshapen.No more can they confine you. Rise and stretchthe figure once buried, obscure, stinking under history. Escapethe shadow of decency that bound you, open the huge mouth we…
Read MoreMark David Noble, an accounting
thoughts emerge aloud, unintended, launching like a hunting dog set free, with field bound abandon, formerly muted details escape, mystify other patrons in this grocery store check-out line what item…
Read MoreMz. Jolie, Reclaiming my life
Only interested in scoring, you are a terror who likes to carve out holes in a woman’s self esteem. My body remained a fine fettle as you used your sexual…
Read MoreMadhuri Nagaraj, Disenchanted
Yesterday I went blind.No sudden crush of ebonied nightUnder which fractured stars emergeNo molten terror that does shift and spitover fettle, through weathered gorgeNo such desperate revealNo such merciful source…
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