issue 3 – poetry
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Room Service
by Brandon Shane Remodel the bonesyou’ve been hanging aroundlike curtains of a missing body,and sterilize the hallsdragging with enough wallpaperto elicit memories of demolishedhotels your father once romped.My mother wore the same red dresson every joyous occasion,and she danced in restrooms,garages, the beds of strangers,and especially on my father’stombstone, where she’d kickthe candles out, and…
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remember us
by Yuu Ikeda raindrops on my skin.dewdrops on petals of unknown flowers.we wear the same accessory,to be a part of this world.we are gleaming,in a part of this world. Yuu Ikeda (she/they) is a Japan based poet and writer. She loves mystery novels, western art, sugary coffee, and japanese comic “呪術廻戦 (Jujutsu Kaisen).” She writes…
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Piper
by DS Maolalai o the piper,that odious piperwho playshis ratrotten tune. where is the stream that is runningwhich music will finally ignore? Iam ignorant of eventhe verybest music. I am the snareposing for prey.fallon’s in paris now. aodhan’s in londonand I am herelooking at the leaksin the porthole;plugging them with dirtytoilet paper. I am walking…
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After the question if Lazarus was ever asked if he wants to come back
by Joemario Umana The demons I fight every day will tell you that Jacob was playing with the angel | for what is a fight without bloodshed? | So I make a gash on my hand’s neck | by its jugular | to bleed the demons out | I watch them slug out like a…
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the clown goes to his HRT appointment
by Silas Denver Melvin the white scrim of medical paper crinkles.the clown offers out his arm, laid betweenthe bed & the cart like a clothesline.her nimble fingerstie off the tourniquet.the motion reminds him offastening balloon animals.the nurse draws blood through a thin tube.she asks how he’s doing, if he needs juiceor a hand to squeeze.…
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An Idyll Heard in the Metro
by Yuqi Li Everybody puts on a happy face today –not necessarily smiling, but on whichfrowns and wrinkles are smoothed byan undertow of expectation, masquerading as cynicism. In public.Tacit eye-contacts blink in and outof the moving steel. There it is –the modern forest of correspondenceswhimsies unspeakable coynesssqueezes into the contraption embroidered with silver threads. A myriad of purposes…