after Servant
Rambles past ringlets, ruffles, rouge to you,
end of the queue, interviewed for the show,
television lady forgets your debut —
segment you are someone she chose to know.
Her fascinations are fleeting and slight,
provincially dressed princess one night. Lives
she catalogues on oak shelves in plain sight.
Decades of ingenues in her archives,
November 29th, 2020
The Dirty Truth About Butterflies
It’s easy for a religiously bred
(misled) girl to make an Eden of
a garden, angels of winged soon dead,
repopulating in three weeks. But love’s
amino acids butterflies won’t find
in agapanthus nectar, waterfalls —
Continue reading “Womannotated – The Dirty Truth About Butterflies”
November 14th, 2020
I live in a genre the aged read.
Decrepit men tell their mendacities
before a final tomcatnap beneath
cracked granite mausoleum roof. This squeezed
social register, not quite weatherproof,
trickles on nipples; a drooping sundress
exposes flesh, rose, only ghosts reprove
or molest, witness this macabre burlesque.
October 7, 2020
Gills desiccating, you glide through his house,
hair towel dried, Oxford shirt, slouched, secured
with belt made oversized dress — yours doused
in his tank, under duress. Damp, demure
while you saunter down bifurcated stairs,
some guests the servants were unaware, out
his front door then driveway, street. Unprepared —
August 16th, 2020
(Content warning: horror, death, suicide, some discussion of Midsommar with what could be considered general, mild spoilers)
A scent in twilight past breaths of the beast
who stalks the edges of forests on the
phalanges of feet, quickening heartbeats
of little lost girls, panting in pine trees
near the end of the world. Pale hirsute ear
you peer where the needles are bare. Eyes straight
ahead, mutter pieces of prayers. Fear
Toward A Philosophy of Photography
Last night I dreamt
I was turning real life
into an autohallucinatory dream
within a dream Continue reading “3 Poems from Fatal Error by Mark Amerika”
Bright Blue While The Juice Is Flowing
a piece of
bitterness
transformed
separation
of
my face Continue reading “Bright Blue While the Juice is Flowing by Bobbi Lurie”
Ways of Seeing
Your eyes see things upside down; it’s down to your brain to turn them the other way up. This has become known as the right way up.
My eyes see things upside down, but my brain doesn’t work like yours. Continue reading “Ways of Seeing by Elodie Barnes”
Spirit Photography
after William H.Mumler
In this photo
Abraham Lincoln lies
in superposition
over Mary Todd’s veil and Continue reading “2 Poems by Jocelyn Deane”
1.
Have we been blinded by reality?
Asked the Wise Master
The violence of a reality that sends tremors down the nerves
To spark and catch alight.
Our eyes on fire. Continue reading “The Wise Master by Chariklia Martalas”
No Longer Believe
What do I SE E? //
Why do I have V IS IO N /
if I no longer believe /
what my MI ND /
puts before me? // Continue reading “2 Poems by Phu-Linh Tran”
UNDO THEIR FLOW ON THIS
Become.
Many deals, the city and – you
and just years ago It’s through open not change, and deal with the Capitalism story
deeply and Basically, we and void, we’ve So much coiled code – redirect into motion
Support each other with insect calm. Continue reading “Undo Their Flow on This by Mat Blackwell”
Ghosts
In this desolate place I can almost hear
the sacred buzzing of bees, glimpse
an endless canopy of emerald leaves
pulsing against a clear cobalt sky. Continue reading “Ghosts by Lucy Whitehead”
the temple.
(faces).
…
cave. (dark. (ruddy-brown (‘v) rocks)). …
—a gate(‘s (door)way) – entrance. …
(open(s)).
Fire Water
All this was was the vibe of a smile,
a nod to the past,
an undeniable…anything,
“if I’m being honest…”,
please,
only be that. Continue reading “Fire Water by Kevin R. Farrell Jr”
Minister for Flowers
gone
the minister for war
gone the guns,
the minister for rain and rivers
in conference
with minister for forest and
minister for music and poetry, Continue reading “2 Poems by David Hallett”
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 