by Elisabeth Horan 1938 Nothing should end this violently:Baby monkeys slide in and out Of their madres – like the slippery pea podsSo gently – The wind sabe como tocar (the wind knows how to touch)A woman’s cheeks As if they could break her openHack easily at the insides of a body So permanently destroy her –But they do not. Read More
Tag: sept 23 2019
Squirrels
by B F Jones Squirrels. Rendered malevolent by the distortion of a cubist dream. A murky forest, somewhat tilted, humidity emanating from the ground, dark trees towering above. And the squirrels. Their rustling. Their twitchy accusing stare, ridding me of sleep. Night after night, trying to understand the sudden fear, trying to remember. – Those squirrels, do they do Read More
Hole in Chest with Arrow
by Elisabeth Horan 1937 Life is something I had with youIt doesn’t matter which ulcer you choose Her or meMe or herLove or agonyMy body becomesa trash yard Pero mírala – Floreciendo como una mujerMás hermosa – más útil – para ti Yet look at her – Blossoming like a womanmore lovely – more useful – for you She Read More
October 3rd, 1873
by River Rivers My ancestors, the Modoc Natives, were colonized. My home is Oregon. My home has a dark-side. After a great battle Captain Jack shot General Canby. For their ‘War Crimes’ four Modoc were hanged. That’s when the spectators took their souvenirs of war. They auctioned off the ropes, strands of hair, and pieces of the gallows. That was Read More
Hurt Comes in Pairs
by Elisabeth Horan 1939 There is a woman of the dirt.And another. Two nudes in the earth. JustMe and my sister. Look how she coilsInto my belly asking for Forgiveness. I like to see her Writhe like a worm, andI step on her Sometimes – to remind Her of her smallness – And how it feels to die. And yet Read More