a call-in radio show
the listeners
of which
are asked
to describe
loneliness
in their own words
(sexual
farness)
to a coal worker
or a clown
I have a friend whose father called every basement the devil’s treehouse. a friend who’s here today because she hid a knife. whose brother met god too early on the path to god and whose mother would jump from anything to fix a tooth…
there are people who don’t smoke
who want to
when it rains
with birth
we’ve bookmarked
the awestruck / god
still hates
his artist
sister / her flytraps
hang
in hell
hallucinates / and is envied / by ghost
Alex Hoshor
my body as
it scattered from
heaven into the
starving bellies of
distant enough wolves – {from} One Innocent
//////////////////////////
Sara Moore Wagner
and maybe it comes
true in some section
of my body – {from} Venus Complex
///////////////////////////
Tara Isabel Zambrano
trapped in a latitude
of divided gods
////////////////////////////
Rae Hoffman Jager
Instead of prayer,
questions – {from} Grief
the dream
bread
of insect, horn
of dust
the exiles
ghost
& middle
stair
I drop
down the back
of my brother’s
t-shirt
a wasp
and for years
he has
dry skin.
there are words
our mother said
that we’ve used
to protect her. this day
(to that)
gunshot
means gather
eggs. sleep
is your shepherd’s
prison.
kingsoftrain 