I am the tree arched over your yard
abrading sky above the shards of what once
were contents of your Instagram life, guarded-
by-Doberman duplicitous wife, crunched
digital frames, board games amidst piled piss
yellow leaves. I have outlived any you grieve.
Continue reading “Womannotated – Bower”
Saunter through snapdragons, the cobblestone path
inside his house, into a bath prepared
with Dead Sea salts by a sociopath—
Continue reading “Womannotated – Dead Sea”
September 19th, 2020:
Follow creek through the weeping trees until
it narrows and you cross with ease. Keep mum
along the rivulet cascading still
through thicket of thorns you will not succumb.
Continue reading “Womannotated – Weeping Trees”
August 29th, 2020
She offers flesh beneath aromatic trees
against dark gates without password, key, sign
her kind is welcome here — save kerosene
in lanterns near. Arms in grate, stretched supine,
between dove gray sky, columbines, beside
cobblestone of almond, slate. Closes eyes, Continue reading “Womannotated – The Second Time”
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
August 9th, 2020
Each maiden slumbers in her childhood bed.
Crow collects a lock from each, twines a nest
with garden twigs, hair ribbons azure, red—
sufficient room for one without a guest. Continue reading “Womannotated – Crow Castle”
July 26th, 2020
After a reveal of cotton candy sheep being
shorn for confectionery purposes in the
Burton Charlie and the Chocolate Factory film:
Willy Wonka – “I’d rather not talk about this one.”
You peer a possible pasture in a
pink corridor. Perhaps peeking proves it?
Perchance a perpendicular door plays
with peripheral vision, pomegranate
sheep producing shorn candy floss piles pruned
to palatable heaps? Panicked to peep
Continue reading “Womannotated – Why Charlie Can’t Leave The Factory”
ghost undead
i still ache for emptiness like i
would silence in a
sequence of
sighs.
Continue reading “this body sinks in a dead sea”
Burning House Press are excited to welcome MAPULE MOHULATSI as our JULY 2020 guest editor! As of today MAPULE will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the month of JULY.
Submissions are open from today – and will remain open until 25TH JULY.
MAPULE’S theme for the month is as follows
Continue reading “JULY 2020 Guest Editor Is MAPULE MOHULATSI!!! THEME: SINK”
Two Golden Tickets sonnets (my Charlie and The Chocolate Factory homage book of poems) from the Hot Chocolate section which involves chocolatier love triangles, femme fatale industrial spies, strip clubs and licorice .
A strip club in which Arthur Slugworth, chocolatier competitor of Willy Wonka, meets the woman who will become his secretary and industrial spy and future lover of Willy Wonka.
American Candy Expo meets in
Chicago each year. Arthur Slugworth’s jet
consistently appears before show begins
day early to play. Bittersweet secrets
over his butterscotch schnapps confessed
to the ponytailed stripper; her peach ring
pop, bubblegum thong, sweet visage suggests
she is a shell you could tell anything Continue reading “Womannotated – Hot Chocolate!”
Kohl Shadows Black Medlars
fastidious rosewater pink mache misted
a cobra petal inferred of grapebloom.
Dark Souls go to Osiris distant psychic
white sea-friend verdigris-luminescent
the old adroit ears rising of golden dog
in dusk with beasts in kohl shadows leading
the secret lucky blessed knave
black medlars opening purple in brooding
old road.in troubled sunlight ancient white
sealing here the river stone the silver meadow
instructions
you have to press yourself to the warm electrodes
let your torso be enveloped in something like the sea or blood
and the voices will inhabit you
in an operation unlike any poetry you have ever heard
there is a small risk of drowning
they will sit behind screens impassive unblinking
perhaps indicating state of mind
by jabbing the dark glass
Sounds ; it, ale , ill, Deep, d-3p. j. the fea, folemn part
in a great degree
to darken Deéply, Deep, ad in a high degree, forrowfully / the Cold
felt on collect- ing even warm Air with a Fan, or in
a ptinted flieet to fzt a fla” upon., to frnijh / the
bringing fore the fire. / as its beauti. fire fl:lir~bl”;7.in,.!
“He’s changed!” said Grandpa Joe, peering down through the glass wall of the elevator. “He used to be fat! Now he’s thin as straw.” Grandpa Joe on Augustus after the pipe, Roald Dahl Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
All they saw, “thin as straw” Augustus who
once was not. Boy almost boiled inside
a chocolate pot, consumed post fudge room
before the change. Chocolate liquefied
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 