I smell the sea between your legs, smell a harbor where one slow soft-chugging skiff unloads the salmon of the night. An indistinct hip-booted man anoints the fishing gear with oil and spreads his salt-caked nets upon the pier. My dear my tongue begins to taste your waters and I smell us together, smell the […]
Poetry 71
James Hoch: “Shift”
It’s possible Whitman meant the sudden movement of the universe, more commonly used to describe the phenomenon of flux as when a shift in a single cell’s division alters pupa and the suddenly bright alarm of a butterfly anoints the end of a branch. Or perhaps it was reflecting life’s stasis, the material of the […]
Robin Ekiss: ”The Lightning Fields”
At Ole Joney’s in Quemado, the men dance like puppets in their boots, calling out to us tourists, “Cowboys can do anything!” We’re introduced to Rosevich and Dietrich? the Austrians who will share the house with us for the night. They photograph the register, the barkeep, the painted skull above the pool table. Dietrich takes […]
Josh Bell: Zombie Sunday
Gentle handed holy father, or whomever, you built us poorly, piscine, and sewed within us the same impulse, so that all I make and touch accelerates toward its inherent demise, and you will not come up with next year’s model, rumored in the advanced stages of production and advertised as ready for the show-room floor, […]
Josh Bell: Zombie Sunday (the epic version)
Gentle handed holy father, or whomever, please hum a few bars of the song I’m supposed to sing, and have forgotten, that human song which calls the dejected home from the heat of the compost heap where I spend my lonely winters as the Visiting Minister of Seeds, where the slugs roll like seals in […]
Quaresh: Revolver
dead niggas tell no tales you go on or you die — harriet i am temple threat cold steel poke she shows me weary midnight tired hope what’s on the other side must be something awful something more than the seeds in my belly