Art

Three Poems After Bob Flanagan – Cletus Crow

The Funeral of Everything 
 
After “The Wedding of Everything” by Bob Flanagan
 
Tonight smells quite
different: complex
stabby sorta 
thug in steel dumpster night.
Memphis skyscrapers like AR-15s
spear through concrete slime
like painful dildos. 
On Beale Street, a man with one arm
sings about fucking
some woman with three legs. 
Shit-colored glasses
annihilate 
my twink-trash-drunk-ass senses
beyond oblivion.
Each light beam slices me.
No one trusts priests anymore 
which is proof 
our increased freedoms work.

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Art

Julia 5 – Bernard Cohen

Julia’s fate, her fate. Her liquid metal
voice, sebaceous and gilding. Turned
away from me heart-in-eye, hid in the
corner. Saying my name into the wall.

They’re going to eat you alive suburbia.
They’re going to broaden your shoulders.
They’re going to crown you as fiction. But
where is the eye of the cross?

Pupils in the shape of one.

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Art

What is Bright Also Burns – Megan Busbice

a casual exploration of the fatal flaw

 

on the way to the farmers market
in the backseat of her Subaru
we talked about all the ways we would
become villains, in some other
version of the story. wry smile, thrown
backwards—a knowing meeting
of eyes. blue bandana, wicker basket,
crystals weighing in linen pockets—
I am already becoming exactly what
you wanted;

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Art

endless summer – Madi Bean

i.

Like a fly lolled into a cup of water
It’s an ancient and delicate process
Amy and Iwai were spending multiple days
in the cluttered bedroom of her childhood brownstone
she was now renting.
I patted the hyacinth, iridescent from heat treatment,
ran my fingers through the astro turf while Baby told me everything.

Everyone’s eyes were getting bigger
The park had a certain miasma that let the eye release
a drop of liquid as if riveted by the blunt force trauma
Of milk down your throat
Feet pulled along the pavement like bags of sand.

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