on a rainy day the stink rises rancid savory industrial primordial sweet modern within the pillars of great society here i am with my outcasts we together in all of it on most days to suffer is a blessing a day at the spa a swim in a lake around here on most nights they […]
the office – Marisela Brazfield
we the people are our own R. Murdochs when necessary
My heartache only sings in the middle. I don’t want to be a sad ghost. I don’t want to start like a memory and forget how to leave. I don’t want to be the recurring dream playing for an empty room. I don’t want to be the hunger behind eyelids, so weightless and […]
I Don’t Want to be a Sad Ghost – Kristin Kory
if we could be safe in our seats we could share of our misery shed tears and sometimes maybe smile just because we’ve learned to navigate it doesn’t mean we deserve less than this we too like softness color flowers and art we too like chicory coffee and 5 dollar donuts we too understand the worth of work the taste of sweat and the temperature of let blood we are dignified in our wreckage we stand tall in your false shame we smile kindly forgivingly at your hollow grief for us today we sit on this humble chair where when asked we dissect our terrors and we remain grateful to this stoic chair for holding our hands as we let loose of our fears
in lost hoursdim roomsi silently moldmy handsin front ofbare bulbsproject distortedshadow puppetsagainstlonely wallsmovementslowineleganta mourning dovepierced throughthe breastby melancholy’ssharp sterling thornbeats its wingsraggedagainst ribbedcageof blueunable tolaunchfly free © 2018 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
Shadow in the Frame: I Cast A Shadow – Christine E. Ray
The feeling of air as hiccuped rope-knots shake their fists. How many floors is the city’s tallest building? You are at the top a squeegee in your left hand, your penis sucking itself into its pelvic shell, shriveling your balls after it. The sincerity of Fall. Your lunch rises in your gorge, hotdogs/sauerkraut, you have […]
An Unquiet Mind: Thoughts of the Window Cleaner While Falling from the Tallest Building in Boston – Rachael Z. Ikins
Oh, how it happenssoft as lover’s touchthere you are againclutching cooling clothesas they wheel her limp body offyour name on her dry lipsan entreaty; help mewhen you cannotno act of kindness, sufficientfor suffering has its own brand of losswe all tumble togetherto a place of mysterywhere I may leave this small tiled building one daywithout […]
Quiet reminder of horror – Candice Louisa Daquin
words less spoken 