May-lee Chai bones, oracle at the end of the world the Chinese dead return. the railroad workers rise from their unmarked graves where they fell and died were buried burned hanged dragged hidden blown to bits the ties of the trans pacific rise one by one unzipping across the nation releasing the dead from […]
test category 1.2 dodedodedo […]
after Wyman Wong when she first heard that song she had to touch both her feet to the floor and try to breathe. then again, though, how common are whirlpools? she had never seen one. if it is a real vortex, then even at the tip of its glimpsing, her death too might […]
because I sat under the showerhead rightmost faucet thrown to boiling trying for an hour to convince myself it was the water trailing down my arms not my shaking skin my wet body is still a prince rupert’s drop bulletproof in the head but weak in the trunk even after a decade […]
Read More… from Dina Folgia – my mother took a cold shower on her birthday
Das is for things imported from Fremdsprache and other economies reporting permission slips for deemed sound Dinge und people on the Ostsee also which we saw crossing the Warnemünde Ferry in August and naked old men leaving bikes at the FKK and the six-story Soviet era right to vacation illuminated in receding gold […]
I never had a chance to be frivolous. My mother’s greatest fear was that we would die from some small neglect: a seatbelt not worn, a swollen can of beans unnoticed and eaten, the want of a stair nail. My father’s was that the ripped blue jeans, stale crackers, scrap paper we failed […]
Yesterday, I crushed them and smeared their brief light across my cheeks: glowing war paint for twilight battles fought house to house until the porch light called me home. Today, barefoot in the grass, I wait alone for dusk’s dissolve and their arrival, those gentle lantern-bearers guiding the grateful summer night’s retinue from […]
and I’m one of them arguing with my father in despondent tunes him saying: you’re nothing like me my riposte: it’s for the best and yet I’m surprisingly impressed the way he can so utterly forget he was fuming just the previous second while I’m still dealing with the consequences of […]
Read More… from Satya Dash – There are things that start burning after the fire goes out
Capri Sun pouch at college parties Ocean Spray at bars for every birthday declining drinks an impulse cocked and ready in the throat I’m dried blood after cracking a new wine stem, dull-rust linger after Swiffer wipes and shadows stagger out family history prompts dry pause at the kickback try […]
Read More… from CD Eskilson – A Brief History of Broken Glass
—after Rick Owens’ Women’s Fall/Winter Collection, Paris Fashion Week 2022. Forgive me for not recognizing the wailingbells & horns in Mahler’s 5th, or tree men in boat shoes, rabbits makingof bisected men violins and lampshades. machines reference the holiest thurible—but what do I know of fashion? usually unknown to someone unculturedas […]
Read More… from Brandon Butcher – Immanentizing the Eschaton
