It is never really about thinness. It is certainly not about fashion, or fitting in, or models. It is facile to call it perfectionism, because it is not striving for a perfect body. It is an act of erasure, but also of tactility and isolation. That is what I miss.
It isn’t the space
the closeness of knowing
somebody so well
we hear their heartbeat
inside ours,
or the aperture of life
squinting one morning at a time,
but I freeze right there,
1. HE WHO IS NOW CALLED LAZARUS
was born a plain boy we
christened STUART
and thus it went
first his brain yellowed then grew
claws and we
were sore afraid
Burning House Press are excited to welcome ADRIANNA ROBERTSON as our FEBRUARY 2019 guest editor! As of today Adrianna will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the full month of February.
Submissions for Adrianna are open from today – 1st February and will remain open until 22nd February. Continue reading “February 2019 Guest Editor Is ADRIANNA ROBERTSON!!! Theme/s: The Mind As Prison & Asylum”
February 2018 – Languages/Letters/Lists – Florence Lenaers
March 2018 – Masks/Transformations/Cosmos/Personal Myth – Amee Nassrene Broumand
April 2018 – Place: Movement, Escape, Exploration, Architecture – C.C. O’Hanlon
May 2018 – Identity: Crisis, Creation, Multiplicity, Singularity – Karissa Lang
June 2018 – Liminal Spaces – James Pate
July 2018 – Bodies – Lara Alonso Corona
August 2018 – Non-NonFiction – John Trefry
September 2018 – Belonging/Returning/Retreating – Rachael De Moravia
October 2018 – Gender & Revolution – She Speaks UK
November 2018 – Facing Up To The Future – Paul Hawkins
December 2018 – Doors – Jaisha Jansena
* * * * * Continue reading “2018… That’s A Wrap! – BHP///A Year In Guest Editors”
Burning House Press are excited to welcome BOLA OPALEKE as our JANUARY 2019 guest editor! As of today Bola will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the full month of January.
Submissions for Bola are open from today – 1st January and will remain open until 24th January. Continue reading “January 2019 Guest Editor Is BOLA OPALEKE!!! Theme/s: FAITH // FAITHLESSNESS // DIVINITY”
Her hands
down by her sides
Also her drink of choice
and how she speaks to
the bartender
Her subtle, slow
I’ve got all day
burn
Continue reading “Judith Taylor: Cinderella upon Remembering Bruno”
This is not a violin, it is a doorway. I know this, because I read a lot. My notes and references are usually very detailed breadcrumb paths. But, as Brion Gysin said, the mice can get into the larder of language (and I add to his point, memory). And, well… I have no control over legions of mice.
“This is is not a violin, it is a doorway.”
Continue reading “ReVerse Butcher: This is not a violin, it is a doorway”
Tachypsychia. The word we use for defining the neurological condition which alters our perception of time. Time lengthening, time moving slower, time contracting. A blurred vision of time as response to a traumatic event. Time as a collection of unrelated passages. Time as red lines on the temptation to exist. Time as well-captured intentions, the same throughout all journeys. Every inked reflection, a paradise lost. Continue reading “Christina Tudor-Sideri: PASSING THROUGH THE HOME OF THE DYING”
I was thinking about Brutalism, cattle and passage tombs. Form, currency and death.
Walking the fields of North Cork and the headlands of Galway, casting cow-sheds as signs.
Homes for people, now homes for animals. Cycled forward by occupation, migration and forecasts. Radio broadcasts. Concrete and local stone piled into walls, supporting cold tin rooves. Corrugated steel. Cheap and functional, galvanised wave forms. Tin, iron and zinc combined and beaten thin. Weather resistant not weather proof.
My brother’s childhood room and mine connect through paired doors, at three different points. Walk out my room and and ten paces would take you to my brother’s door, next to the AC control, across from the panic button. We also shared a bathroom, each room opening onto the sinks where we would brush our hair, or teeth, or forget to, side by side. With both doors open, you could have seen from pillow to pillow if you tried hard. Continue reading “Dov Nelkin: 6 doors and One Slammed”
When
You wake
From sleep
You wake
From death
You know
Every Hour Hurts in Fall
By now, you have adjusted to time’s addition, waking
without alarm, your body’s sudden jolt of electricity—
your toes and fingers wiggle—eyelids flip open to stare
at the ceiling’s cold. You’re still here. Isn’t that crazy?
You want to get moving before you hold still, before
you find yourself between the flight of day & dream.
on being broken / like shards of withered glass / my body
repels every music its soul makes / i close every door i
can’t walk back through / by this i mean i keep memories
in a box of cigar / god tells me i am a chapel Continue reading “Adedayo Agarau: 3 poems”
The grass lies hungry, waiting
to swallow up water, worms,
seeds.
I scatter them. One by one
they are plunged into the
dampened fingers of fertile
earth,
The door opens to a married man, a single bed.
You’re not here, but your presence is everywhere. The bed is meticulous, signs you’ve been here are subtle, imagined, your outline dimpling the duvet, just a trace; Continue reading “Ben Gedaliah: Room 168, the Hotel S-“
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 