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Category: Poetry
Protected: My Dear Sugar
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Protected: Water Memory
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Tall and Narrow
by Abigail Jensen I’ve never known anyone to get excitedat the sight of a penis, says the privileged cis lesbianin all her honest beauty and gloryafter throwing back a shot ofoverpriced vodka. She rests her forearms on the sticky barand whips her head in my direction.I glare back while the others chuckle. Whenever we stumble… Continue reading Tall and Narrow
poisson d’avril
by Luke Horsey this city was meant to be the surrogate father of the prankthat was played in my first love’s arms, back on the north London fringe in my teensand now you’re recycling the joke: it may well have been salt you were rubbing into my backas I folded in your arms like a… Continue reading poisson d’avril
Billie, 1933
by Ingrid Marie Jensen ‘Where’ve you been all my life?’ Jack Harris asks with a crooked smile, both incandescent and terrifying, that’s real charm along with eyes like Lake Michigan in a storm and an expensive suit. he’s somebody special and don’t he know it! song slides off slick vinyl, filling the air like a… Continue reading Billie, 1933
Erysichthon
by Dahlia R. Trigger Warning: Alcoholism/Emotional Neglect Head pounding and bones aching beneath those bamboo sheets— just a sip would turn the throbbing into a dull ache, but the shelf was right by your room. By that hallway and that photo of me holding you on our stone steps at 5 pounds and 2 ounces— … Continue reading Erysichthon
Constellation
by Colten Dom My hands turn to your back like tonight’s sky, gleaming somewhere in an ancestral skull revealed by a retreating glacier— reconvened after a cloudy evening, squinting, kneading familiar structures, lines of gravity placing each stain as I find it. Freckles metastasize; stars pull and are themselves pulled. You touch my skin to… Continue reading Constellation
OCD
by Ashley Hardin I’m sorry if you asked me a question and there was no reply. I was in the middle of listening to my invasive thoughts about a peculiar conflict in front of me. One-third of my grandparents’ circular ottoman was missing its light brown leather top straight down. This error had started to grow… Continue reading OCD
Dive Bars
by Sarah Bess Jaffe We watched Bin Laden get shot through the window of an Irish pub in Queens. Well, we didn’t see it but, you know. I thought you were such a big deal. We were sunbitten that day. Remember when we liked the guy in charge,in spite of everything? We rode our bikes everywhere,stuck on the BQE’s hot ribbon,for a daylong noon… Continue reading Dive Bars
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