Strip malls give way to strip clubs One hundred fifty miles grind Alongside mammoth motor homes The land is changing She is more voluptuous Her sins secreted While in dusty towns Proud old resentments Bolted to bricks shout “Get us out of the United Nations!” Greasy truck-stop trading posts Stand between bands of green Separating [...]
Tagged Kathleen Eull, poetryThere are four legends concerning Prometheus. According to the first, he was clamped to a rock in the Caucasus for betraying the secrets of the gods to men, and the gods sent eagles to feed on his liver, which was permanently renewed. According to the second, Prometheus, goaded by the pain of the tearing beaks, [...]
Tagged Kafka, parable, thought shardsBURIEDFED This is my last song about myself, about my friends Found something else to sing Try and patch it up with tape and twine Maybe I’ll just break everything that’s mine They wheeled out my casket, They said, “Boy, lay down your head” I said, “Aw shit, man, I ain’t even dead” I won’t [...]
Soft stockings coddle them by day and nail-bossed leather shoes buttress them, but my toes refuse to pay attention. Nothing interests them but emitting toenails, horny plates, semi-transparent and elastic, to defend themselves–from whom? Stupid and mistrustful as they alone can be, they never for a moment stop readying that tenuous armament. They reject the [...]
Tagged featured writers, prose poetryAt the end of the horizon is more horizon. The palpable absence of no end. How could one not pursue this?
Tagged pith... twitsThe lavender aroma of her apartment lends itself to musty carpet and stale cigarette smoke to the eventual car exhaust and bad food smells as she follows me out, heavy glass swinging shut behind her to the morning orchestra of traffic. Her short stature belies her Miss America gait. She is a scarved, lithe stack [...]
Lucia, my distant love You predict me, as ever. Yes, the woods again were where I found myself, wolves singing their hungry sleep songs, but returned to our home, a half empty shell of what we haven’t built, but abide there on our finest days. Fuel for my fires was depleted in days and another [...]
Dear Jack-Be-Nimble, The sky is a particular gray-blue today, and it makes me think of you. Your slate eyes. Venice is, well, all masks and gondolas; I love and need it as I do my own internal organs that I picture crammed to fatal dimensions from a corset as if I were some courtesan fleeing [...]
Tagged Jenny Benjamin-Smith, postcard, proseBEFORE THE LAW stands a doorkeeper. To this doorkeeper there comes a man from the country and prays for admittance to the Law. But the doorkeeper says that he cannot grant admittance at the moment. The man thinks it over and then asks if he will be allowed in later. “It is possible,” says the [...]
Tagged Kafka, parableA voice comes to one in the dark. Imagine. To one on his back in the dark. This he can tell by the pressure on his hind parts and by how the dark changes when he shuts his eyes and again when he opens them again. Only a small part of what is said can [...]
