Art

Two Poems – Cait Reynolds

Modern Love is a Fear of Radio Silence

 

 

My existential crisis is chronic

Dying with my doe eyes and fair skin

this insomnia is killing me

or at the very least

will make me look worn out

As a woman those two things are terrifying

and essentially the same

My pulse races uncontrollably and I don’t know

if I’m in love

if this is happiness

or a panic attack

My calm exterior is my greatest role

but the persona is finally dissipating

a crack in the mortar

a patina on far too young of a woman

Maybe an adult life of believing in

the wrong people

is perpetuating my skepticism

More than anything it’s made my constitution

far too fragile

too fragile for heartbreak

too fragile to expose love’s raw nerve

I wanted to believe in love

in romance unbound and transformative

it was not to be trusted

It’s a car crash I’ve walked away from

seemingly unscathed

But upon further inspection

my sternum is bruised

a few ribs out of place

to be touched brings excruciating pain

It left me starving,

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Art

Six Poems – Anthony Perillo

Personal War

 

I dream of battlefields

in the pitch black of night

where only gunfire serves as the light

If I had a family

surely I would long for home

I am the dancer

I am the finicky eater

I am the prisoner of war

All I know of you is from

secondhand stories and photographs

but I bear your name and so I live

vicariously through you

 

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Art

Three Poems – Sophie Ruth

1)

I know what you tell the soil but it’s all made up
I felt you turning in my belly
i felt you twitching in my pussy
Is it possible to keep a live baby in my body
Is it wrong to keep a baby alive from my body
I know what I tell the moon but it’s all made up

2)

milk doesn’t grow on trees but i could still feed you

i expect that me and a 50 year old man in thick jeans work boots and a meal from the gas station feel the same way in our hearts

except his meal is still defrosting and he has slush on his boots

3)

Have you ever felt a keyboard that was thinner than a sheet
Have you ever been inside a cave so deep you saw where the caveman sleeps?

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Art

Two Poems – Lee Levinson

Notes on Frequenting Trapdoors

 

We burn through water like it’s blood, so say goodbye to your familial ties.

I will gut your rotisserie chicken from inside you with a double edged costco card.

Best you don’t get too complacent in your jissom tinged opiatic drawers;

curtsy cute like and sit in shit.

Impending orgasmic tickles are a falsehood;

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