GOATS UAE by Baxter Jackson |
|
**
by Simon Perchik To clear your lips —a simple wipe though once spread out your sleeve fills with shoreline follows on its own, washed with enormous wings shaken off the stale crumbs half sand, half seabirds half before each meal —you don’t use spoons they won't resist enough would empty the way this bowl is still looking for what will pour easily through your heart letting it drip and for hours one arm circles the other closer and closer, the one that will stay with you forever —always the wide, lower and lower reaching in —your mouth no longer clears the rim broken open by its cry to jump! and you bleed again from your arms letting go their dead breeze, dead sky, dead mouth. |
LADY OF ALBANY by Allyson Seconds |
|
NEAR THE SEA
by Samantha Seto All is purplish-blue: at heavy surface of the sea, as tides swell and turnover. Opaque water lines the green benches the lobster pots, scattered sea lions among the wild jagged rocks. The beach shore has translucence like the small old buildings with emerald moss growing on their veined walls. The big fish tubs are lined with layers of beautiful herring mermaid scales, wheelbarrows are plastered with red paint holding creamy coats of mail, small black flies crawling in salt on them. On the hill behind the houses, in the bright sprinkle of mildew on grass, is an ancient wooden ship-wheel, cracked, with two long bleached handles and some melancholy stains, like dried blood, where the ironwork has rusted. |
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
home | Table of Contents | archive