an hour of closed eyes ignoring
pseudo hockey mask and tight
quarters of a human shaped
tube like a plastic coffin;
Frida Kahlo
Frida Kahlo
an hour of closed eyes ignoring
pseudo hockey mask and tight
quarters of a human shaped
tube like a plastic coffin;
Sammie Saxon
In May, I scribble out one to my mother. I start to hoard the pills, they line the paper, weak soldiers eager to drown. I imagine she won’t understand, like a paper doll, blank look, easy to fold.
Read Morevia AnneJade
Robert Yerachmiel Snyderman is a PhD student at University of Arizona researching material poetics in contexts of incarceration, homelessness, indiginism & agriculture. Before he worked as a teacher, itinerant farmhand, & street performer. He is at work on several book projects, including Fierce Light: Selected Poems and Poetics of besmilr brigham 1948–1992. New poems, writing for performance, & essays are forthcoming in The New Farmer’s Almanac, Denver Quarterly, The Volta, & The Colorado Review.
Read MoreLuo Yang
The first Chinese woman in America
lived inside a diorama. A little room
for a little lady, Four Inch Feet
Miss Ching-Chang King.
Aëla Labbé
you felt me, you left me—moaning open in a landslide. I harden like grease
and there’s glimmer. the saplings anxious for ripping, cleaved the way you
like it. let’s say: you’re the woodsman and I am a girl, slipping in a magician
box, my bra cups filling out—buttermilk, tiny bow in the middle. you wield
a saw, a tremor—sung like choirs, biting through.
Silvia Bonilla is a goddess who uses her power to create mystical worlds on the page. Her book, An Animal Startled By The Mechanisms Of Life, (Deadly Chaps Press) is filled with lush, visceral poems that evoke the pleasures and terrors of childhood, and the painful process of growth. It opens on the mother and the family then moves into the feminine, into lust and redemption. Her poems illuminate the fears that make us whole, and expose our connection to the ravishing tortures of time. Her lines are short, potent and passionate; her vision is clear. So many brilliant emotions fill this book, it’s as if Bonilla is an Empath, tapping into our desires. In A Place Where Gods Are Born (one of my favorites) her heat and depth are so beautifully concentrated:
Read MoreI was 21 years old when I had my son. His father and I were utterly unprepared, not nearly mature enough to have a baby together, and ultimately not a good match. Within 6 months of our son’s birth, we had split.
Read MoreFirst of all--thank you! Poe said, “the death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.” I think the combination of Lana’s obsession with the “live fast, die young” mortality lends itself to inspiring poets who agree with Poe’s sentiment. Death is a pretty boy at the bar who she’s batting her eyes at--hoping he’ll buy her a drink.
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