I see Justice in the form of Dr. Attisha; through her horn-rimmed glasses, I see the blood lead levels doubling inside of toddlers.
I am OK to go / into another / dimension / a vision of / vast idiocy / and solitude / release it / through my / otherly abled limbs
...here / in the ocean caves where we breathe air, / sweet air, dewy with imprints of the shark / crimes, where the waves carry long lost envelopes
Ghost of my own design, was it your / gloved hands tracing out my spine the night / I lied my way into the ER, hoping / to be touched?
Love, I’m a musky vermouth, palm of discount / stars, instruction manual for low-end vibrators / which is to say, my frequencies have slowed / down to the flutter of a junebug’s libido
...the scritch-scratch of No Remedy passing first under the fall of sighs before the bridge of suicides, meaningless beneath the blue feather tips of kingfisher who shuns the deeper blue...
Miami Beach burns with the insatiable / ego of a galaxy, bright enough to refuse / admittance to any stars in the night sky.
the liver of a blowfish is said to / be the tastiest part it’s also the / most toxic an ounce enough to kill ten men
The town had been coughing since the dark arrived. It began while I was on the bridge the second time. Was still going when I went out for beer.
he dials and dials his best half, / fingers moving like pretty / please, like knock on wood, like long / prayers, like rain dancers bright / in his loneliness who stomp
Unbuilt, or charred to this, the timbers of my house, its ribs. Alone, but standing, it whistles / wind into the bluestem grass.
The difficulty was obvious, an object we always / pressed away from us but that would always reemerge / in the sphericity of the real.
This week, Gulf Coast is headed to the land of the stars--literary stars, that is! Wednesday, March 30th through Saturday, April 2nd, Gulf Coast will be representing at #AWP16, from our handsome …
Catherine of Siena ladled the pus from a cancer patient’s sore, lifted the spoon to her lips and sipped till the desire for food spasmed from her stomach...
1 A man found a door and hung it on the wall. I think he thought in rectangles, each day's bright panel pushed one against the next, a calendar of light. He would paint them, all these days, and hang …
It takes one hand to imitate : the unabashed kids fucking in their car : a bird on piano : near a spur line in the woods : but you hear a flock : j told me he frequented this spot because of vigilant …
UPDATE: This piece has been edited since its original posting date. I’ve noticed a trend. It might be chalked up to coincidence, but I’m not convinced. The trend is that journals say they want …
Trespassing on ground of former love. Tussocks / whisper here of nests and the vanquished. Swans hiss and fish / nearby, undoing the slipknots of their throats...
Our sons told us to place the steel cleavers we used to butcher hogs and chickens beneath our pillows, in case our enemies appeared.
Away we went, Sissy. Do you remember? Do you remember running across the meadow, into the fields, through the woods until we made it to the red sand...