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APOLLYON
0b1. hey, I know you! you lolling Jell-o eyes, your eyelids are heavy you spit a billion more phrases,...
HOW TO MAKE MARTYRS
I’m listening to Gerry Raffertyand I’m thinking to myself,who the fuck is Gerry Rafferty,and what the fuck is “Right Down the Line?”'Cause I can't...
TRANSUBSTANTIATION or THE BREAD BABY
Yeah, put the leftovers in one of the jars on the second shelf;no, I know there’s a lid that fits, I promiseI’m working on a new organization system...
Perspective
the wind from the oceanmakes the balcony lawn chairsdanceI lounge on a couchas gray daylight stretchesthrough the sliding glass door I want to...
hrt4t
Logan unpacks needles, swabs, syringe, bandaidI settle my knee against his thighAs we sit on his Star Wars comforter.He plays Elton John, tiny...
I do not know your names
Your names toll in my dreams. “26,” - Rachel Eliza Griffiths I do not know your...
poetry
Hymn for Beseeching
With Desperation...
In a Poem
In a poem we are...
Dysmorphia
The only reason I...
Red, Black, Yellow
I told you I saw a red carand the positions we would sit inWhen I said that I was lyingThere was no carand I can't even pretend our positionsI did...
Aristocracy Brings Castastrophe
Aristocracy brings catastrophe.Decadent, echoing fame guides herinto jeopardy.Kestrals lie molested nearby,organs painted quaintly red.She, this...
fortune teller
tea leaves are livingthe steamreminds the sensesthere’s more to heat,that there is flavor in the way we burn Nakia Coleman is a poet trying to find...
Calefaction: Episodes
ISpring has re-greened the grey of winter.Pockets of weeds spring up through cracks in pavements.The heat is oppressive for this time of...
Daily Meditation
I tiptoe to the livingRoom in wool socksI set out last nightThey muffle stepsBetter than cottonWhile my wife and children sleepOf courseI love my...
Without
The electricity of ears, gnawing.A field finds fur crawled flat byparalyzed tails, by those laidopen; who knew of webbed-feetfear, tinted...
fiction
The Ruminant
Christie was full of baloney. She was bent over the plastic carton, rolling up slices, dipping them in honey mustard, and popping them in her mouth...
Still Life
“Let's not marinade in delusion and call it bravery for my sake, please,” I say, picking at the newly formed scab on my knee. The ones that...
Constant Stalker
The bus is late. The afternoon sun is merciless. “Bad accident,” one of the dozen of us waiting announces without looking up from studying the...
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