MANY THINGS ARE STILL REAL
if I look at the child / and she drops her glass / I made this happen / with my mind
Those floating nests of light! They have no / eggs! In what built house could they be hatching?
When you’re writing it’s speaking. / And that has made all the blifference.
godzilla on the beach
i bruise up sunsets / break up train sets / eatin’ motherfuckers / on the news
C. F. Sibley
in the morning we awoke to a thin layer of glass over our bodies, like a river seduced to extinction
Laura Eve Engel
One Last Thing Before I Go
Psst, / I’m frightened,
says the iron fence / whose rot moves in and grips / more slowly
Your voice is stuck in an elevator / Your voice is locked inside someone else’s home
joan naviyuk kane
The green part of me never leaves / however I find that it remains with you.
SMALL GALAXIES THINK OF OUR MOTHER
our mother’s hours a blossom brain / spots in her hands watering the vitex
Oddities & Propaganda
assessing the value of objects we have never seen, in some cases never imagined
When the man leaps he leaps at the football and as he flies to it it slides in air away from him.
Emily Kendal Frey
MOST BEAUTIFUL WHEN LIT BY REFLECTIONS
It’s true: / A word gets inside, moves.
The powerful family story becomes a shitty ride.
The woman out there with her finger on the trigger of her own bomb, she is one’s inner life.
on my way through winter / or bright blue you burst / like strong Italian coffee / in me
its buzz / playing with depth and the image is / so literally inside her, then
This is not the love hours. / Jackie Gleason is not / crooning at the foot of the bed.
The most frightening ghosts are the ones of inanimate objects—like that of a toy lawn mower
Experiment with Solids
Blue is the dictator inside every object. Only a bullet isn’t blue.
we’ll sing & be counted— floorboard planks / in a November afternoon’s porch of flies.
I have no conception of the amount of succor that is being constantly used up
© Ink Node, 2013