Month: December 2017

We Said I Love You, But I Think We Were Both Trying To Get The Last Word

You are a belt. Not sure if you’re helping to keep me up or down My heart sags like the delinquents God A crocodile saw me one night and decided to grow sharper teeth You winked and I became an emergency room full of children with the same fever We fucked the entirety of an open mic once. I knew it was wrong, that I should have listened. You brought a bigger strap-on, to see if I could take it When I couldn’t, you told me, you had a girlfriend that you loved. You asked “what was the point...

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There Must be an Answer

A cockroach in the grass is so different from a cockroach on the bathroom floor. This is how I’ve learned my empathy is conditional, how I learned that I’m just another body in space, in context, running into walls like a Roomba, which by the way did you hear was gathering your info? Making a comprehensive map of your house? This is why we put electrical tape over our webcams and leave the shower running. Because someone told me that the world is just a game of survival. This rings like stone against stone in the cold of the...

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bezoar – I

ni oblit, ni perdó          & the old abattoir   with its noir-rust         pro -tocols     hāl of qurb grey brawn  its  crowning organs    that reek of power  careening blood black  into the paladin   here the gaslight  twitching in larval fuss  must scarce us  into some spur of care here i must     hew myself         a tremendous fang – chine my spleen into the adder’s hymn  this long gland   this prized tooth    for the cudgel & its rot-faced etch           bite god on the wrist               leave sunny gashes along the body’s   incarnadine rosette    I – gilded   mormyrid I – ceral as frog-limb     amphibious as...

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Unidentified Male Artist

English, born America, 1993 Captioning, c. 2013 Man on woman. The artistic preservation of violence is a significant feature of the artist’s earlier work. See the way he forces his subject open at the thighs, see the way he separates skin from muscle and pins it back, mounts her in the way an insect is mounted. See the ruts her clothes have left on her body. Notice how the glass in front of her prohibits escape, how the wood of the frame holds her down. Notice how he’s captured her in a singular moment. She is a handful of...

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Catching Up

I’m good, and you? Just making breakfast here and chewing the toenails off other people. Remember when I used to do that for you? Oh, by the way — the starlings are back for that big tree. Remember the first time they flooded it? We thought they were in danger. We thought the tree was on fire, that their homes were burning easily, since they are made of hair and leaves. The way they were all squawking, we thought they were calling for evacuation. Calling all cars! This mother is burning. But they’re swooping down again now, calling me,...

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