pause obsess rewind porn star Calvin Bankskneeling leaning back his hips bounce like a buoycaught in a tidal waveof cock muscle curls oh Calvinwhen you study your reflection do you worship the striationsin your chest? absthat cut & pushthrough the amniotic sac of your […]
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I’m just calling you to ask if you have ever scrunchedthe skin under your eyes and made wrinkles in the mirror and felt like you were seeing time? And when you let your eye skinfall back into place, was it like reversing time, like time travel, like being close to The impossible? I’m leaving you […]
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wai po falls sick in penang. through her cracked lips she still calls it pulau pinang,a palate bad-breathed, wu wei-harmonied to her language, the estuaries she carries in the seat of her spine pulau for island, for mooned blisters, volcano soresthere is a rhythm to dying bodies. when she bleeds, each scab sculpts a fragile […]
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In high summer, I see lovemost clearly when I’m alone. “Shouldn’t a poet be more romantic?”someone asks me. I ask my heartif it ever thinks of me. This morning, I had breakfast by myselfat the hotel and listened to the lobby pianist. Tourists arrive early to Black Tortoise Park andI thought I saw a couple […]
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I let my fingers lie on my bodylike my fingers are a sack of wooden stamps: delicate and foreign and someone else’s.I let my body lie under my fingers like my body is a field of tidepools:jagged, and damp, and a home to many things. I do this over and over: each objectbecoming another object. […]
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a pattern emerging not of need but desperation. nothing new, not even unknown. we dig up the truths just to bury them again. we endure the pain of looking until we have to look away. the pain of staying until we have to go. of being gone until we must return. endless, these cycles, these […]
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it’s 2019 so my New Year’s resolution is to only makedecisions on my period. in March it comes hard and fast, twice. all the bills still get paid, the countertopswiped down. i started eating again and now i can’t seem to rid myself of this hunger. i’ve decided i don’t want my life to be […]
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You remind me ofScene from the Great Flood (1826) by Joseph-Désiré CourtFour pairs of handsTerrified, alarmed, hystericalClutching, gasping, yearning No, not youI remind me of this paintingIn your presenceI become the hands Khushi holds a Bachelors in English literature from the University of Delhi, India, and iscurrently pursuing a Masters in Classics from Trinity College, […]
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I was abducted by cannibalsLast night in my dreamsThey didn’t eat me, per se, but after I had aMore holistic understanding of cannibalismIn my own damn kitchenSomeone made a joke about Armie HammerAnd I told them offSaid these are real people’s lives.It’s nice to feel like you know where the real people areOn my left […]
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Your brother’s pewter cross / hangs from your neck; / its dim glow / in the bittersweet light /casts a barrier between us. / In ‘Salem’s Lot they used / taped tongue depressors / to wardagainst / ravenous dead. / It seems that fragile now / the way / I’m afraid / to touch you, / […]
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after Tomaž Šalamun’s ‘History’ Tzy Jiun has breasts the size of grapefruits. Her hair curls wantonly. Thickdendrites grow out of heroverstuffed skull, mycorrhizallike the pregnantly moist soil of forests. She has a metal hook in her wombshe cannot stop talking about.Her wet kisses gush thirst,wet as the gills of a trout. She uses tampons instead of […]
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Ed has a stench that stings like cinnamon.And still here I am in the November stull,washing our laundry while they watch us. We all sit in on the floor and thread letters through colorful string,“Bitches” “Luv” “Toxic” one bead at I time. I made a few butonly kept the one that said “Howl”. Our pants […]
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Our neighbor upstairs had a party and someone yelled, “YESSS this is my jam!”, asAvril Lavigne’s “Sk8r Boi” came on. He started watching X-Files and we know exactly howmany episodes because we hear the theme song every time he plays one. He walked into our apartment thinking that he was walking into his apartment. All […]
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the track tonight, burnt asphalt and heat. the stands, rickety and fullwith ghosts of tomorrow’s morning spectators. you and me,faces pressed against the metal fence, squares of metal leaving grids on our hands. if you squint you can almost see the wall of champions,the carbon fibre smoking in the corner with its packof fellow rejects. […]
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Dia Roth (they/she) is a poet living and working in Seattle. Their poetry has appeared in Verse of April, Olney Magazine, TAB: The Journal of Poetry and Poetics, and elsewhere. Dia wishes they could spend all their time submerged in bodies of water, rivers and oceans in particular. Unfortunately, they haven’t yet managed to grow […]
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Megan Falley is in a word: sharp. Her poems have a sting to them that stays and her voice could silence a room. She is water running too hot in the best way. In addition to touring and teaching an online writing course called “Poems That Don’t Suck,” she is the author of three collections of […]
Read moreMom read x-rays for a living, but made a life kissing the bones of a 1932 row home always under construction Dad repairing with arthritic hands from the ground up
Read moreYou are a hitchhiker’s brainwash, a negative gasmask, a pair of waiting hands vacant everywhere You are a hoarder of ridges, a concave risk, heartsick and craving bludgeon exchange in a room of soundless piano keys, pushed in. Lonely carnivore, with a dirty forehead a mouth of murder. You beautiful handsaw, ripping my roots to […]
Read morebeing touched in a charged body by accident bounces bones enough to shed dead skin and leave flesh behind to finagle steady breath without a frame of mind barely attached to a torso dangling out of the car window even if hanging on means swallowing the one-winged mosquitos or pounding a steak until the vessels […]
Read more—– Christie West is a 20 yr old junior at Emerson College, where (she / they) created a major in Performance Poetry. She doesn’t care what your parents think of her tattoos. Her favorite things are: cats, bread, and women. Two she’s allergic to, one is out to get her. If she can’t change the […]
Read morehi you might like the way the moon looks will you go outside and see for yourself put the phone down first open the door then close it take however long you need to make up your mind if you don’t come back before time runs out i won’t blame you doesn’t it look like […]
Read moreyou kept my amethyst in your jacket / so I put a new piece of citrine in your palm / we sit at the bar & talk about cemeteries / tell me about your father again / talk about New York / that one time you were onstage dripping with blood & your best friend […]
Read more15 and she invited me to sleep over at her place minimal adult supervision hours one and two dedicated to mocking a children’s movie because we were not children she let me test drive her violin, first string instrument I ever touched, told me my instinct by way of heritage
Read moreIt’s the talons stabbed and spread through the nervous system that keep the mouse twitching and give it the performance of life. A boy reads the forest floor: A bouquet. A pitying. He reads the horizon: an unkindness.
Read moreParts of me are burning in dad’s ashtray. Tuffs of coiled hair engulfed in flame. Clink of hot-comb against stove. Crackle of fire against pomade. The house is smoky with the burning of my hair the flattening into submission the taming of the wild black the Saturday ritual.
Read morehe was my religion where no god could exist laid slain in his spirit each time his hands pray upon me words baptized in tongues tithed offered in remembrance of we
Read moreI was staring at a map when the men came, measuring the width of Calcutta with a thumb as they told me to stand and led me away. The blindfold smelt of cardamom and I remembered my mother’s shoe-size and the warmth of her body […]
Read moreI was all need you were out dog licking wound & ok/ so I’m destroyer all pressure pace move right through mouth & more do you swoon over Camus or coke & cum turn home melted ponder under slither fingers fighting fodder what kind of blood am I to you with war zipping hard underneath
Read moreI touch myself like a wound & my skin spits up its color like blood. It’s beautiful to feel darkness unattended in the body. To love the backs of our hands, to forget what will end us. I bruise the underside of my tongue
Read moreblack leather boots kick fine soil down from a cliff-side perch – disperses into an ill-coloured cloud, the way my brain feels.
Read moreThey tasted open to me. Her fingers tasted open as chopped lemons; me squeezing the juice into the cuts until she says stop, it’s okay. Fill me with you instead. And I say, awesome, I’m glad you’ve agreed. Time for me. Then all the smoke blows: I every destination of direction.
Read moreA white boy holds his hand like a gun. The earth bleeds out its rivers, I fist a flower. Don’t let them say genesis. Don’t let them say born again. Show me a hunger that names itself and I’ll show you my mouth,
Read moreAnxious Diva puts me up for ransom. I ask her why I can’t feel my body. She just wanted to smell the cake up close. Who can blame her? Herself orbitless, disappeared? Dress sagging below the knees. Miss Charity wearing a ski mask, no panties.
Read moreEven if I run out of water I can still waste light years plotting our ruin with pruning shears. We being beings who shed our skin daily Sometimes during the violet hour to dine On paint thinner and praise temporary faces.
Read moreOn the picnic blanket under the oak tree my father turned to me and said: “We hope you always come back here,” where the shade eases the Southern sun on our pale skin, where we sit in favor, and I felt this birthday’s finite weight: the ratio of lie to light, and the brevity of […]
Read moreHe says things the way spilled milk does, calcium cutting and bone dry, so I cry about it. We stand outside a Mexican diner and an Open sign’s screaming red and blue all over his face as he tells me he needs something more. My
Read moretoday my coworker Brian touches me without my permission & I imagine rending his head from his body with my bare hands / I can blame the impulse on a customer / Joe always asks what scary thing I’ve done to myself today / I always answer in movie titles // in The Exorcism of […]
Read moreI’m lying in bed playing dead lizard because it’s all dry where rain should happen & cinder where we didn’t put ourselves out. That’s the legacy. We forgot to inconvenience ourselves. Don’t know
Read moreTeacher asks me to speak, asks me to sigh, asks me to be dramatic & shy (please?). Nobody ever says please. In my mind a crane is shifting and juddering to a halt. I’m the girl sprawled breathless, drawing myself nude.
Read moreafter Jeremy Radin the unfading birthmark / the right breast, tender cicatrice & ache / the organs who refuse motherhood / the knees, swollen like heavy balloons / the hips, purposeless gates / the thighs, two fumbling giants / the hands, deserts without oasis or mirage / the crescented knuckle that sewed itself / the […]
Read morei didn’t know my stomach would become a wallet for my fingers to pickpocket
Read morei built a glass box with a tornado inside.
Read moreYou will find roads familiar and vacant, daylight obscured by furrowing sky, some congested covering will billow from an apocalyptic breeze. Roadside civilizations will trace piecemeal monuments to all you knew as home. You’ll be passenger to your flesh, and it will guide you, traverse
Read moreBaby duck imprints a mother on the first thing he sees, would stream through a lake with a goose, bear, human single dad. Glazed-eye after- noon, red tide. Last seen
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VAGABOND CITY 