Issue #54


Authors

Hound

Content Warning: Mention of blood

Plunge neck first; pluck

The feathers of God’s chicken face.

The dance of gnomes is fish-like and auger,

A psychedelic psychic relic.

I’ve fallen into an illusory sway.

They flee onwardly, escapedly.

Carry wood, chomp water,

Fang-toothed and moribund hound on a hose.

Remember what the gnomes said,

The foot is the densest part of a man

Address the old man on a train, stationed.

He’s sent us traveling.

A cup of blood and corpuscle,

Its musk protruding me, in reverence I drink.

These broader rocks mumble

Their terse winter-cries. Today is God,

I say to them. I slip further into the muck of me.

Thus, a swine (unfed) twists itself like a spine,

A mellifluous tangle of earthworms.

Litany for a Former Roommate (after Billy Collins)

To the Ocean