Just A Pinch – Theresa Desautels
Lips, salted, curl around mine.
As the clock ticks on, I wonder,
when will liberation
taste better than obfuscation?
Confession – Marta Shaffer
I have a walnut tree in my backyard. It stands
directly outside the insulated porch where my
washing machine sits. I love to do my laundry.
I love the pink fuzziness of the dry lint, and of
the women’s liberation history, and of the
fulfillment I get from accomplishment. I love
pulling sparking socks from the dryer and balling
them into cotton grenades while the tree smiles
on my efforts and airmails little walnut gifts. And
I like my walnut tree, too—the look of it, old and
hunched, bending over my back-porch like a
mother bird extending its wing in protection. Yet
this year, I didn’t collect the walnuts. I let them
rot on the ground, return to the matter that the
roots draw from. Partly, I was so busy with my
sock bombs that I’d forgotten about the tree.
Partly, my laundry was warm and indoors, while
the walnuts required that I put on rain boots.
It’s cold out there. And partly because, I have
to confess: I’ve never known what to do with
all those walnuts. Once collected, they would
often lie in a bowl in my kitchen for weeks, and
it’s only just occurred to me that maybe my job
was just to gather them and then give them away
so that other people could put them to use.
Ambien Music – Carly Rose
I'm better at drawing than speaking.
There is a name I seldom speak. If I try my words become a painful jumble of complaint.
Instead I could draw a picture of two people.
I would tear one of the figures out of the picture then draw a line through the word trust and circle it twice.
The figure left behind would be colored red.
Red for the way he told me that he had burned me.
Red for unrealized wrath blocked by confusion and foolish one sided love.
Everyone Knows – Sanch Whore
It's doesn't really
I belong just to
and everyone else
who cares to know.
Secret – Oh Dae-su
The punk band is too drunk to play tonight and the out of towners are making fun of me.
I see hippies and too many of those pretty little gringos with long hair that floats like a golden ticket.
Keep on dancing moonchild float away into the void.
Tonight, the bartender's acting sweet on all of us and theres more trouble in this cup than I can handle.
What a strange night to be alive; to be with the wild ones and the drag queens on this lonely side of town.
Out in the back the assholes and the coke whores are talking politics over Pall Malls.
They can't decide on
who should speak first.
I see 16th and park ave wash out again at the cozy distance
while I listen
To the same bullshit excuses from half hearted lovers who are too afraid to try it all again.
On the island of my mind
There is a closet full of bones
Rattling with the ice inside my glass.
Can you hear my secret spilling from my nicotine fits?
Stay here, where it's safe and the liquor runs over the cup.
Stay here, where the music's loud so you just need to shut the fuck up.
Who is here to indulge to in the overflow?
My ego or the swarm?
I see myself in you, and your blood
Run little gringo run
You have goals and aspirations,
You have parents to make proud.
This town is an ever open mouth.
Just My Luck – Elsie B, plus wine
I could tell you what has been happening,
mais si j'ai les dit, vas-tu comprendre les mots
care vin din gura mea? Din când în când, nici eu le înţeleg.
Secret – Theresa Ragudo
Raw throat and nervous pitch
Blanket the thuds in the attic
Her pacing dance beat out a lullaby
that sang you to sleep
Umwelt – Muir Hughes
you build in me an ancient hunger
your breath a portal, where animalism devours grace
there is no mercy
musk, pine, dusk and thirst ply the skin with fever
feed me, oh god, please destroy me
Secret – Secretseed
Secrete the discreet secret
Repeat the concrete secret
Bleep the reek secreted secret
Delete the discrete secret
See critter secrets
The more secreter secret
Or the most secretest secret
I see crate secrets
Milk carton secrets
The lost art of keeping a secret
What Lies Above? – Cory Smith
From the distant star,
to the Earth beneath,
there are mysteries
deep in the sea.
What happens to lost memories?
To the radio waves beamed?
Are aliens watching old TV shows
on a far-off video screen?
What is the secret to long life?
What is in the center of the moon?
Perhaps an ancient race
That is encamped in a subterranean room!
Is there life on a distant sphere?
What if they are already here!
One thing is sure
One truth can be seen
For everything we know & don't,
There's a lot of room in between.