Contributed By: Katy E. Ellis
Yes, we find the shrine—
dot of island, nothing more.
Dust, relic, and hope.
…
Twin hive houses stand
history brailed in landscape.
Relatives unknown.
…
Mud against bee’s sting,
lip already bulb red taut,
gravel roads wring on.
…
When a door opens
hundreds of people climb stairs—
not the Northern Lights.
…
Legs pedal-tired.
Pour us a pint of shadow,
thirsty to be lost.
Return to table of contents for Issue 7 Summer 2013
An animal scared silent, rabbit atremble in the morning grass, belly fur slick to the ground, the ground warming to the hands of sun and light. A salt lick, discovered in a day-to-day field, crusted dirt track, sedge and tick bite, blue swallowtail heat. You just must trust it, mouth watering. Cells have no language […]
Hello, pain, let’s dance. Today you will be my short-lived lover. Your ship’s siren, your sonorous rings in my mouth, I know, I know. Oh, Jehova’s beast, your bite’s point-blank. Hello pain. Let’s dance, what the hell. Soon I’ll watch you burn, rabid, alone in your parade and I, spilling froth from my breasts, delighting […]
You do not have to choose. At least not in any ultimate way. If I unpack the poisonous black seeds wine, menthols humming in their tray in the dark it has grown late. If we are sitting at a kitchen table waiting, talking our one life deeper into evening. If we broadcast […]
