Domina Mortem
Photography, 2018
II.
I see, I said, when I saw, but if I am to believe, be it in science or in faith, then what I said, I saw, I did not see. There was something else entirely, and it was there, right there, for me to see, but I only see what I saw, and what I saw was not there. Continue reading “2 Prose Poems by John Peter Apruzzese”
I Was Blythe
I would do anything to not be cute,
fifteen, though it’s, without dispute, what I am,
Blythe doll eyes, wide face, small limbs a brute
could hold in place with fingertips. Brown eyes Continue reading “Womannotated – I Was Blythe”
Dollhouse Architect
Blueprinted girl rolled out wide to inspect
already torn, no one protects — and why
should this one be tasked to care or respect,
question a purpose plans specify Continue reading “womannotated – Dollhouse Architect”
Calpurnia
After Morticia Addams describing Wednesday’s
role model (“Wednesday’s great-aunt Calpurnia.
She was burned as a witch in 1706. They said she danced
naked in the town square and enslaved a minster ..
but don’t worry. We’ve told Wednesday: college first.”)
Young girls require a patron saint — aunt’s
abysmal ashes antiquate entwined,
Massachusetts grave, with God’s servant
whom she enslaved. Impious mind
in clerical cravat a town square dance
(performed in only raven plaits) bewitched Continue reading “Womannotated – Calpurnia”
In Anton Newcombe’s studio in Berlin, there was a typewriter. On this typewriter was a faded, dusty note that read, Everyone should be shipwrecked once in their life.
These words had an unsettling effect on me. Whether I understood it at the time or not, my ship was already on the rocks.
Continue reading “Essaouira Diary by Finn Lafcadio O’Hanlon”
——-
“I will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further”
——-
There you are love, where are you off to?
Devon
A beautiful part of the world that, you have a lovely time, send us a postcard
All right I will
You do
I will
——-
but I did work hard very hard but there wasn’t enough time because it wasn’t the right questions I did a lot of practice questions and there was always characters but this time there wasn’t I knew a lot but none of my top questions were there and that’s what’s wrong with doing exams Continue reading “New Street, between trains by Mary Frances”
Gullible eggs (reprise)
My mother lied with tenderness, sweet
aplomb, and range;
she’d seen a century, our crooked sea-swelled house
cost a million, and all babies were born with feathers
that softened the world’s edges
In the suburbs
At night, bodies unfold their pretty scars
and souls start rattling their cages.
Morning, always fresh and unhurried.
Midday is to be lived within itself,
good food, tempered laughter,
a bottle of Amarone.
There is an aristocratic cadence
in the way time punctures the day.
Resurrection
Again I come
To the dark room of my heart
From where I form the light
I am a spirit hovering
Several Truths and a Lie
I lost my name.
I lost my name in the mouths
of children. I lost
my name in the briars
with wolves, their teeth
like mower blades. I lost my name
Rare Treats
When my grandfather asked me to buy cigarettes at a local convenience store in front of our house one Saturday afternoon, I remembered what Teacher Gladys taught us in school that week.
She said cigarette smoking is bad – for the health and for the environment. I was eight when I couldn’t weigh which was worse. I didn’t want anything bad happening to my family, most especially to my grandparents.
Continue reading “Rare Treats, a Flash Fiction by Angelo Lorenzo”
shame
it’s dark inside
which suits me
it hides my imperfections
the guilt upon my skin
the dread in my eyes
as they size me up
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 