“TWO SPUMES” by YUNG EPIMETHEUS

HEY YOU GET OUTTA THERE

i said to it

and there was painted before me the vast scenes

buildings and the abstraction of trees

and the things before faded softly you could say like the memory of a lover

without judgement

and it was the new place we’d for so long been hearing about

trains still made their sound outside

tho it was clearer we couldn’t see them Continue reading

FOUR POEMS by KAT GIORDANO

YOU WILL BE SEEING UNIQUE ACCOMPLISHMENT

 

Around the turn of the century, a man named Ed Leedskanlin fell in love with Agnes Scuffs, a 16-year-old girl, in their home country of Latvia. They soon got engaged, but on the day before they were to be married, she left him, citing their ten-year age difference as the prime reason. He then moved to the United States, where in 1920, he began building what is now known as the Coral Castle: a massive structure including two obelisks, a tower complete with furniture, and even a perfectly-balanced swinging gate entrance – all made entirely of limestone and constructed solely on his own. Rare pieces of photographic evidence suggest that the five-foot-tall, hundred-pound man used practical methods, such as simple machines, to build the structures, but others assert that he must have harnessed secret or perhaps even supernatural energies in order to do so. Though Ed published many writings claiming that he discovered the secrets of the universe, he never divulged exactly how the Coral Castle was built, and his so-called “Sweet Sixteen” never saw what her scorned lover constructed in her honor.

 

it finally occurs to him,

as he leans on the wall of his finished monument

to love, that the girl ten years his junior never asked for

an obelisk, that those heavy stones he moved had done nothing

to move her, and she shouldn’t be blamed for the ache

that settles now in his bones.

 

but he’ll go on like being lovelorn is his only sin,

charging tourists ten cents to roam the tomb

of his heart, take pictures of the crude limestone slab

he called “bed” and cut to the length of

her unfinished body. and they will call it beautiful:

his love alone enough to lift those hunks of earth

into meaning; some strange, ancient magic. Continue reading

THREE WORKS by Z. MARGARET

Internal’s House

 

(media res counterpoints)

“Show me someone who doesn’t warrant inspection and I’ll grant you your hormones,” the father says.

“Oh and which sadistic pill is that?” the daughter screams.

“Hey now, knowledge is not the answer, we both know that. Perhaps a little tipsy in the granulated downtime, but that’s all, I can assure you.”

“Did not!”

“Um yes, did two. Two pills with one swallow.”

“Have you even been bickering with me? what do your words—uh!” flapping hands.

“I see it as kind of like those days where when the day begins, with a sort of groggy eyesight. The first thing you hear from your mother’s mouth is—hey, woah, where do you expect you’re. Stop, okay—the very first noise you hear is some insect-y reminder from your well-intentioned mother, that the garbage disposal ate your garments. Or even your undergarments, like panties, and she forgot—hey, where.”

“F-you!..and hey, in case you didn’t know, plants have hormones too!” the daughter projects over her shoulder, down and out the staircase.

(out the door with her)

(back to the father, portrait)

“You know, I never dreamt about notebooks or that kind of thing, mainly (melting.horror.). But it’s all working out fine right about now. Really. Not so much as a gaper in the sky tell you the truth,” he pauses, waiting. Continue reading

FOUR POEMS by THE KNIFE CITY BOY

It’s only because I dropped out

 

“we’re going into something on fire, and we do not have respirators. we do not know what water is. all we have is this scotch tape for where the seams are detached, and for whatever reason we believe scotch tape can’t melt.” – some valedictorian somewhere, I hope

 

 

 

it could have been Renee

 

there was this one time i drove a goth girl to the airport because we met at a gas station and she said something about walking there, but i said no. her friend Dougie had to come along, which was fine because Dougie sat in the back and really didn’t say any words. me and the goth girl talked like old pals about where we were from and the big dogwood trees in bloom out along the highways. Continue reading

THREE POEMS by JUDSON HAMILTON

Small Talk

 

I’m not tryin’ to call you out
But sportin’ a Hi-Vis jacket to
A garden party is just bad form

I know you – you wouldn’t have worn it without a reason though
“Visibility is one of the emerging trends in the gig economy”

But you make a strong case for the party being dull
That’s the way though, isn’t it?
You work up the courage to go out
Find yourself a snug corner
Where you can keep your own counsel and
Nurse a beer in peace, amirite?

Yeah there is just not enough light here
…just not enough light. Continue reading

FOUR POEMS by CARL GERCAR

Good Old Jeff

 

They beat Jeff Dahmer to death.
Probably in the dark corner of some dark cell in some prison shithole.
Good old Jeff, one of the boys, swell kind of guy,
drank beers and watched sports and looked girls up and down as they walked by.
Good old Jeff, just a pal,
loved to go out for a cold one,
then fucking kill you
and eat you
and fuck your corpse
and keep it preserved, frozen,
stare at it
late at night
watching the light play with your
lidless eyes.
They beat Jeff Dahmer to death. Continue reading

THREE WORKS by JOSEPH FREDERICK GARCIA

LINES

 

It is my new goal to fall in love with someone while waiting in line.

I’m done with dating and hook-ups and I just want to become intimate with someone waiting in line with me.

My ideal partner is someone who is ahead of me in line, but, honestly, I would gladly take someone who is behind me in line—especially as I am nearing 30 with little to no career aspirations.

With this in mind, I scan the people, ahead and behind.

I happen to notice someone scanning as well.

We meet eyes.

In some sort of unspoken agreement, we decide to give it a try.

We don’t have to connect on any one issue.

We don’t have to have anything in common. Continue reading

FOUR POEMS by FLORENCE LENAERS

words in italics are from ResearchGate

 

this job
could
interest you.
_____________JOB, n. is of uncertain origin.

you & I are of uncertain
___un(te)rest
_____gonzo

Keep your profile
up to date to get the best
job suggestions.

_________SUGGESTION, n.
_________(Hypnotism)
_______The insinuation
_________of a belief or
_______impulse into the
___________mind of a
__________subject by
_______words, gestures,
________or the like; the
_______impulse or idea
_______thus suggested.
_______[Source: OED]

Insinuously trigger me
___cosinuously
_____hypnotenuze me
insinuate a belief or impulse
in my many-slotted mind—see diagram Continue reading

TWO STORIES by JORDAN CASTRO

Aunt

 

My aunt spoke to me quietly, in a confused and troubled tone, on the landing of the stairwell in my grandmother’s house, which was inexplicably crowded.
__I know you’re sad and you have problems and things, she said, but please do not bring them to Twitter.
__A tall, thin creature with a human head and the body of an iguana walked slowly past us up the stairs.
__My aunt waited until the iguana man was out of earshot then whispered, It’s just, then paused. Nevermind, she said, visibly struggling to hold back tears.
__I noticed paintings on the walls behind her. They looked antique, but had shiny new price tags on them.
__Running, she said. Or basketball? What about basketball? You used to love playing basketball, she said. Continue reading

TWO POEMS by WALLACE BARKER

I Feel Like a Young Babe Ruth

 

remembered at work that its actually a big universe

of things you could be choosing to do but I dont know

here we are tweeting abt political conventions again

 

and outside it seems the trees have grown too thick

the shade has killed off all the grass I saw a pretty

lady but didnt bother to look really bc even tho

 

possibilities are endless you have to admit this seems kinda

inapplicable or theoretical at best I was reading one of those

french books that always have to mention the name of every Continue reading