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#7 FRICTION

October 12, 2016

Hm, that didn't seem to work – Theresa Desautels

There's a moment of time that occurs just
After he's told her the wi-fi password but
Before Space verifies her attempt when
You could light a match mid-air.

A Teenager's Ode To Pony – Arielle Mullen

We were waiting for our moment, you and I.
Those base notes rolled in, and I felt them, reverberating against my spine.
You took my hand, and pulled me into the current,
My small hand in yours, our cold sweat mixed and I can’t catch my breath.

Your hand travels the length of my spine and back again,
And I think, not for the first time,
Ginuwine was a believer in love.
In life, in death, in Pony.

We are solitary soldiers, keeping the beat alive.

Your breath hot and sour against my neck,
Hands, made strong with hormones and desperation pull me frantically into you.
Words whispered while khaki-clad mothers gasp and clutch their Pandora gems. “Do you know how to ride, without even falling off?” I can only nod, but you know.

You always know.

Those low notes roll through me and I feel them echo deep within.
In this moment, in these notes, we are infinite, you and I.
I feel every part of this, and try to hold onto it, though my grip is slipping.
I let go and fall into you,
Into your saddle.

You take me to my limits, and together,
We ride.

Raspy Kneel – Charles Hunt

whats the cure to addiction
where would we be without prisons
must it be all this friction

So many questions
Not enough lessons
So niggas be out here tripping
Acting like they balling
when its clear what they're involved in
Is built to keep them slipping
The door keeps revolving
Black boys keep on falling
and getting locked up in the system
"Mind your fucking business
Or get slammed down
on this curb bruh"
Is how they protect and serve us
Or just kill us and claim they nervous
but they twitter can tell you
where they nerve was
Yet all they get, is a slap on the wrist
and its back to the shifts
where they murk us
Now that’s the shit
that should disturbs ya
Not to mention how the blurbs buzz
With a picture from the past
on how vicious that the perp was
Like a misdemeanor justifies the perps blood
Drying in a sheet while he’s dying the street
Then they wonder
why we wouldn’t want to Stand for the flag
that they waved since back in the days
when they betrayed and portrayed us in ways
That made us the convicts and slaves
That built the nation they stole and never paid
so see,
since they took a country, we take a knee
when they revel in the freedom
we never see

Friction – Whitney Stevens

I'm always writing about romance and the Devil and my romance with the Devil and it's getting old.

Just like me, tobacco aftermath manifesting lines under my eyes I didn't know were possible

This is your temple and I see why.

Chain-smoking with Satan on an empty morning porch,

Whiskey with Belial on an empty afternoon

A void in me is silent and feels full, like the presence of god I ponder when catastrophe feels imminent.

Two brown eyes meet over beer cans, and I've been here before.

Two shells loosen their grip and fall to pieces on beds oceans and lightbulbs apart. I'm aching for a taste that stays in my mouth for more than a month.

I'm wrapping myself in dead leaves and eyeliner and autumn and I still feel ugly.

I'm gunning it in diesel death traps and I still feel slow.

I'm scowling under two day hangover crust and I still feel powerless.

I'm thinking of that bluesy, saxophone backyard from highschool and I still don't feel inspired.

Death is off in some foggy distance, maybe

I'm feeling friction between some higher self and god and I'm giving them the finger because I don't fear hell much anymore

Wheelbarrow – Davo

Watching a youtube tutorial, the person is struggling too hard with the task. Like an american coot taking from the water. Open another window and listen to CSN&Y ‘Helpless’ and continue watching the retrogressive how-to. The day sighs the amber porch dust back out onto first avenue. ‘‘Even the sun goes down, heroes eventually die, horoscopes often lie’’. Consults God instead of the stars for guidance. With her benevolent ear to the firm earth hears those intelligent and venerable masters and adepts speaking up and is hopeful. You take a load to the landfill and dammit leave behind the broken wheelbarrow you intended to fix up. You take another load the next week and mistakenly kick out past the tailgate the dolly wheel for the trailer. ‘‘Nothin' is for sure, nothin' is for certain, nothin' lasts forever, but until they close the curtain’’. I scored a hand saw, fastener drawers, comics. I scored a sigh after a hard days work. Can I live here? ‘Maybe someday’ replies the sky.

Fruxion – H.C. Berry

fruxion


I want a milky promise

chocked full of passion truth and protein


wax on


I want permission

access and communion


wane down


watch the rise and fall

and let us be the rhythm of the moon. Never the same but always familiar enough to follow. Take comfort in the beauty for it is a reminder that it isn’t going anywhere, there is no fatal demonstration, no final blow of sweetness. Things can change but still grow, disappear and play their role.

No surprise when it comes back, no bitterness if it can’t.

Breaking Hearts & Ruining Lives – H. Quinlan

Breaking hearts and ruining lives
watching time go by with a girl by my side.
Don't love her.
     Don't like her.
          Does it matter?
She can't be bothered. So Why do I bother
waiting for my turn to have that?
when she's strictly concerned
about other boys,
another drink,
and her snapchat.
Where's she been?
It's 2 am and she's strung out on cocaine again,
sitting in my living room
speaking a mile a minute.
God damn
are we so insane
that we spend the night
licking each others wounds
and getting tipsy,
smoking spirits in the dark
and leaving stupid little hickys?

...And its not just me,
she's been with someone else I can taste it.
I don't want to fuss or fight
because no one owns her
like no one owns me.
But damn
why do we always do this kind of stupid shit when we're lonely?

"Did you invite me over just to fuck me?"

That's a loaded question and either answer makes me ugly.
So let's just argue instead...

Friends make bad lovers, unless we're under covers too drunk to fucking care. Even then trust isn't easy to spare, when I'm scared of another smooth talker replacing me daily. What does that make me? Attached or a bit needy? Shit I'm just in this loop of open ended games because everyone's cheating...

Are we more than this?
Are we more than instincts and wild persuits of pleasure?
I feel her resistance when her bare skin touches mine.
I feel the friction of our wasted lives fucking and fighting and drinking again and again...

Friction – Pat Hull

Brokered out thousands of virgin geniuses
Before they became
I was safe
So long as they never became
Generosity of the genocidal kind
Mass accelerating dumb restaurant banter
Putting my crimes in question
Wading in my returns,
An engorged bystander

rKnochentanz – Holly Lyon

You light fires of passion
That set my limbs to thrashin'
And my teeth to gnashin'.
I'm nice and toasty,
Then way too roasty.
But I mean heat is a good thing, right?

dirt like water – Hilary Tellesen

Sometimes it was rough
Even so, his whiskers felt good
I liked looking at his jawline when he sucked on things
and how he moaned ‘Sweet Jesus’

I hear that sometimes
when I am driving down the 99
South always South
Where the train races alongside the elms
like a stubborn bull, stopping just before
the highway splits to the double lane.

He had the emotions of a boy
and the stubbornness of a man.
The sex was like that — a combination of eagerness and confidence
Holding me right where he wanted me
so I knew just how to go
‘Sweet Jesus’

He used a lot of butter, told me it was the good fat
when I tried to swallow it down.
I wanted to, but it kept getting stuck
in my throat,
and his lips would go white with rage
I wanted to let him drink, wanted to cool him down,
to quench that little boy fury
but I couldn’t move. I kept completely still.
And he bucked
and I watched him,
and he spit,
and I watched him,
and his eyes went red,
over his white chalky lips

I watched him like I watched him in bed
as he worked over all of my parts —
I watched him peel off
I saw only the dust
like a cloud that would never rain.

Friction - Sean Harrasser

A river in slow motion
White, blue, brown, and grinding
Quiet but never silent
Reposed but never still
Our lives...
Complex and sanguine
Nuanced and difficult
Our lives...
Encompassing but a frame in the film of this living, breathing Earth;
So that mountains and canyons give the appearance of permanence
As they are shoved up from the basement of time
Then sculpted and battered by choreography that we struggle to define.
Earth herself has life; gives life
Including my life; your life
Look, then, down into that river in slow motion
White, blue, brown, and grinding
Stare into that magnificent, harrowing, lovely, chaotic flow
You will see...
Yourself and me
You will see...
Everything that has ever lived and ever will, including rocks, water, and stars
You will see...
Our passing, and the passing of Earth
You will see...
The movement of brief, yes, immeasurably brief lives
Of us; of Earth
Look for long enough, and you will see...
That the briefness
Is not bleak;
Is not insignificant;
Is not disquieting;
Is not meaningless;
But rather
A collection of wildly beautiful stories;
Stories told with strata instead of words;
Stories told with biomes instead of paragraphs;
Including the most outlandish, beautiful, improbable story possible...
That we were able to see any of this;
That we were able to make feelings into words;
That we were able to make vibrations into songs;
That we were ever here at all.

everything stops – Michael Bone

resistance isn't futile,
resistance is fertile
resistance is the law
resistance ends it all

Untitled - Alucina

I’m pinned
            I don’t mind
you were late at 29
what you lack in sexperience
you make up for in enthusigasm

I toss you to the side
redirect to deeper threads
you’ve been so open
It’s shocking
                 and lovely
and comforting

wait, hold on
let’s build the spark
embrace the friction
and burn this shit down

Selfish Caution – Theresa Ragudo

Within we fight against
a learned posture
Abrasive as we move
through fiction
Trying to mimic the
smoothness and understanding
that our bodies know together

Friction – Lauren Kennedy

I have a fear of being the wrong thing.
It is a little person's fear.
sweet poor child
Arrives, though, on the very big negotiation tables, where whole short precious life ends up in one ancestor's pocket or another.

She says, describe it.
I say, it's a balloon, right here in the chest. 40% filled, filling, rubbing on my heart, ribs, diaphragm, throat.

The pressure I could tough out. The grief it pushes up I will find a bucket to catch. But the static is uncomfortable. Some electricity in the body it is taboo to touch. The sparks pour out, and catch the fields I did not want to burn.

Friction - Amaris Cardenas

Eyes watched, unsure
He was not good the last time
Shouldn’t have caved to the petting
Mussing strands of hair ragged
Pussy hair and latex
Static and Sticky
Harder
Faster
POP
The cat ran
The child cried
The balloon flew away with a whoosh

Friction - Kate Wright

friction, like
I inherited a century of progress
now living's a crime

like,
if you care too much he'll just
crush you use you as a crutch until
it uses you up

friction like,
I'm tryin ta break ya wishbone
but I wouldn't know what to say
even if I could

my fictions pale in comparison
to her photos
you don't bring out
in polite company

friction like
waking up but
my dreams are realer than this

like
this panorama's too big to fit inside me
but every time
I open my eyes
a fist's tryin' to get it's hit in
resistance is worse
than bad timing
so I improvise
take it on the chin
laugh like
I saw it coming

friction like
I stopped moving
but the days keep coming

like
coming up for air
in a world bond to drown ya

like
who put that concrete there
and why's it called a funny bone?

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