Igloria, Atlantis Rising 10 Luisa A. This moment spirals out from the small white fruit crook-necked with gravity, the invisible splashes, the tiny rainbow that exists, the sudden kiss between miniscule pear-bottomed spherelettes and the day's light bolting from sun to soil.
This is the unseen road back to the sky through the Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1 , xylem'ed and phloem'ed, the old man's pee achieves a larger pendulousity, less than a bird's peck of water, millions of them making up a branch leaved against the unsmooth sky.
In later days, or perhaps the slow dampening of night, there will be a turbulence and a moving, slants the heavens back down to hermetic earth. All in an old man's pee and of course the chickadee who saw it all, the cat, who intent, remains unimpressed by our joint ecology.
This inability to write what I can't speak. This inability to write what I can't. This inability to write what I. This inability to write what. This inability to write. This inability to. This inability. KYLE J. Books stacked in the corners, books by the bed— What we lack in courage, we make up for in our heads.
On the radio, news of a mall shooting; or of refugees that fled— Impossible to find enough solace from books stacked by the bed. A boy watched his mother and sister killed: they had no hijab on their heads. In the window box, wasps attack the flowers as if to behead.
Books stacked in the corners, books by the bed— What our hearts lacked in courage, made up for in our heads. Atlantis Rising We live on the Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1where it floods each time a hard rain falls— Streets turn into rivers, rivers push past front doors, enter through garages and mews. At such times, a boat or kayak comes in handy.
Come shuck an oyster, raise a glass topped off with foam. Trapped in the weight of the dark earth, they Other Spaces - The Seshen - Flames & Figures lullabies and recite fairytales in the heavy air, always in half-breaths as they listen for the sound of movement on the stairs.
The odd flicker of light speaks maybe of food or some new game to play, or those other things too large for words. As she sings, she thinks of her eldest, who has taken to plucking out her hair and shredding her dresses, stuffing the fabric into the toilet until its porcelain throat is choked. She cannot help her. Discussing lamb chops, I answer. The interviewer nods as if he understands. The best thing for me to do under such circumstances is repeat a Russian proverb in English, of course and then go look for an open video store.
Somewhere near here a boy and his twin sister have taken the wrong trail. The notion of time Colin Hay - Peaks And Valleys got harder to understand. In what seems like a sign of some sort, light drains from the sky, and the wind begins counting backwards. B's Triptychs Those medieval figures balancing Mr. Thin and strangely hairless, unhappy yet hypnotized by ancient pleasures, they somehow sprout delicate wings as they frolic with small, pale animals.
They are still their own children. They are still their own toys. Scapegoat Stoned again without bees or distilleries or magazines yes the angry villagers roam the streets but this is different this time some other scapegoat roils the rivers I feel weird and Egyptian and orange and impermanent pressed into the scrapbook of some sideways god who God forbid wants to take me home.
Quarters Some quarter of each city offers quarter to the wild always idling within always up for false idol some of the circus Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1 here to grow stranger 3 plays for a quarter 1 sexual 1 to remember the fang and claw of predators and 1 to rekindle the breath against clay the thrill of a world taking shape. In the not-so-distant night, yesterday's longings Flow like a stream into the patterns that define us.
The dream will begin again; that much is certain. She lowered arms once raised in hysterias of praise. A band of schoolgirls bought her Korean barbecue and pink drugstore flip-flops for feet no longer stone. Fantastic star! White Bones I never understood why lovers carve each other's Zögern Darf Nicht Sein - Noie Werte - Verraten Und Verzockt on trees.
I'd rather spit my name into a river and watch it carve through walls of stone. They begin with one. But what if on a different day we started. Not after, but before. Another opening even more perfect than something. If they saw emptiness, nothing at all? Anything would fit. Charming Billy Where have you been? Sing the forgotten song, remembered long after the question is asked.
Noun or verb? Why are we back to noun? Because I like nouns. More than verbs. Damn it. Just as well. We are Let It End This Way - Leon Payne - Lost Highway back to noun again. Stop interrupting. I am not talking about the kind that grows on a vine, which is fruit, not vegetable.
Wrong Cicero darling. You know stones will turn as the tide ebbs. You recognize the sound of their turning. You know another wave will follow. A small lamp is clicked. Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1 book, on the couch, closes its tired eyes for a moment and dreams, in that senseless way books always do.
Strong-armed into dancing currants, I flow fruitful in his palms. Sometimes, not often, I think of myself Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1 the Bigger Than Jamrock - DJ Shepdog - Greatest Rewinds EP, devising ways to escape a labyrinth that I myself had built.
It occurs to me now that I might have been the beast all along, whose animal hunger drove father and son away and apart, doomed to wander inside the maze, searching for an exit. Father, I've Come Back to How We Started our many quarrels, the way words sparked your rage and fed the anger that stoked your heart all these years.
I left home, returning from time to time, the wayward son. When you barely spoke to me, I felt invisible, written off and gone. You harbored hurts, unable to forgive while the seismic faults between us grew. You harbored hurts, unable to forgive while I felt invisible, written off and gone, the wayward son. When you barely spoke to me, I left home, returning from time to time and fed the anger that stoked your heart all these years: our many quarrels, the way words sparked your rage.
The nurses told us that skin-to-skin contact was the best way to create a lasting bond. I don't want to look at you, either of you. See the bond between baby clinging to Declaration Of Love - Melinda Doolittle - Coming Back To You brother, a little hand grasping tight the short-sleeve of his dirty shirt.
It doesn't have to be this way. The sun Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1 you both, warming the top of your head, baby's soft skin on lower back, baby's bare legs resting like the letter N against big brother's naked thighs. They look not outward on a sea of trash bags filled with garbage and shit, fingers and toes. Baby looks past me, brother straight over the little one's head, wondering, how did we land outside the wall?
What is the air coming off the mist? Is our new name a synonym for debris? The silvered tin star. The other kids will be so jealous in the playground, as they gather round to plot my fall. Of them all: the one with a hand in my hair, the one with a fist in my face, the one laughing standing behind, none have a tin star, a badge to wear. I have a friend, Mother, sometimes he sleeps with me, but oftentimes stays under the bed even when you sweep underneath he lays there; a sleeping shadow.
He has white eyes and always smiles, but he makes me happy because he does not talk or argue. We just lie down together at night, dreaming of what lies ahead of us, when I grow up and how long he would be a shadow. Your neck skin bruised from the noose, yellow.
I bite Ginger Gold, its sweetness bursts sparkles there, taste of yellow. In the woods boys drink on daily runs water-stained rocks, granite turned yellow. In the raptor cages, hawks ruffle feathers look away, their eyes rimmed yellow. No matter how I avoid it, the pine coffin glows warm, pale yellow.
The walls struggle against an Atomic - Various - Series 14 Issue 1 of flame. Townspeople gather in the weed-choked streets to witness the fall. The grief is wonderful.
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