you’re not religious

samantha lucero

some people are only religious when they see Mary
on the corner with a heart-wet mouth. h a i l  Mary,
full of avian bones and candy wrappers they pick up
at disneyland
that you never see get thrown
away.
won’t you be mine?
perhaps. she makes them think of their mother
smart and streetwise
with all those invisible skirts and ankles
or perhaps the cradle where it all went
down hill; it’s all downhill from there
from birth to showers of sparks
to final scenes fading to black
the camera now pans to an inky bedroom
where you’d cry out and somebody
would always come (or cry too?)
or maybe you used to pray there
like a wound by a candle
no one ever listened to you
— why would ‘they’? —
no one is there.
and that’s okay.
i’m comfortable with that
like sharks are in…

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Short poems I

The Sounds Inside

bite

every time I bite
my jaw cracks
with the sound of
a misspent youth

belly

I could stick a knife
in your belly
and you wouldn’t blink

what are you hiding?

mirror

I breathe inches from the convex mirror
waiver on the brink
bleeding purpose into an empty pit
save me
you call out
‘come back’
‘I want you’

I think you have me confused with a better man

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“This Green Life: New and Selected Poems” by Lyn Coffin

The Writings of Jasper Kerkau

this green life

I just picked up several books by Lyn Coffin. “This Green Life: New and Selected Poems” (Transcendent Zero Press) is a wonderful book of poetry. According to her bio, she “is the author of more than thirty books–poetry, fiction, drama.” Her website is Lyn Coffin: One Hand Clapping.  I have been particularly inspired by the depth and weight of her poetry.  The book is another great release from my friends at Transcendent Zero Press. Dustin Pinkering and Z.M. Wise are exceptional publishers and writers, who seem to bless us all with a wide variety of exciting poetry.

As someone who was greatly influenced by Allen Ginsberg, I found her poem “The Death of Allen Ginsberg” to be particularly touching, the last line reads: “At last he was allowed to disappear.” This collection of poems requires multiple readings and analysis. I would suggest anyone who is as enamored with poetry as myself to pick…

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Through Time and Body

Writings of Aakriti Kuntal

Does body cremate itself in time
or is it time
that is cremated in the body?

Restless hours hang by the door knob
Quietly observing the spin of skin
Spewing black tar over trails, transplant skeletons become of days
Flaky matter, fingers decorated on walls, imprints, plaster chipping,
Valleys and paint recoloring marble squares

The shadow walks like a detached face
Purest in the night
Atom meeting atom, color killing color
Softly, swallowing all sounds,
it finds a way into the larynx, fingers spreading in oesophagus
Collecting the deepest lament of the voice

It draws a map beneath the eye,
the map of a noise, syllables squirming,
Rattlesnakes, seismic fractures in the
cheekbone
Invasion of air, invasion of dust

All light is a refugee in the body
Flitting scales, itch, flashes and glitter
All light is a purple throb

Beneath
night slithers
Her ionized hair curtailing all movement of the…

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