Monday, October 14, 2019

Nils Geylen - Interlude

pirates are soft on the inside hyperacute
really daily repeats of drownings at eight
aerial shots of marine features breaking
waves sonar imagery floaties on bellies

these figures are looking up the market
the economy budget rock solid scoring
on a first date drive safe practice your
fetishes safe chlamydia free to the bone

for now and a wedding coming up for the
elderly folks their toes dipped in the river
bed worth a viral video in a maker society
streaming plans booming with therapists

and patients alike I was 19 desperate my
body a temple a skinny chicken plucked

naked ready on a green matcha and ramen

diet vigorous and masculine like a wrestler

Sunday, September 29, 2019

Jonathan Butcher - Two Pieces

Jonathan Butcher is a poet based in Sheffield, England. He has had work appear in various print and online publications including: Popshot, Ex-Ex Literature, Silver Pinion The Transnational, Sick-Lit, Drunk Monkeys, The Morning Star, and others. He edits the online poetry journal 'Fixator Press', through which his third chapbook, 'Corroded Gardens' was published.   

//A strip of shadows over headstones, the rest of others decimated at angles, letters and moss now smudged, that slow sink into chips of wood, a slope of hand placed wild flowers/The tree with that one grave under its shade, a final root of concrete and memories, a disturbance unwanted; like heat penetrated sleep/Those battered trinkets, old toys now distant with fur like mattered swamp vines, encased in a spread gesture of loss, adopted by any space here willing/That metal cage of  plastic bags and half chewed stems, a single white stone, half sunk, illuminated without cause/A batch of daisies spread only over where we are unjustified to tread, almost smirking with their snug authority/The horizon pasture broken by concrete and cogs, yet  incognizant in regards to their disturbance/ That discarded plastic Orchid that reflects this light, and remains cracked in that decades old stone/Each slab now misplaced; each one separated from a singular structure//

Traveling Backwards

The former passageways slowly merging into the
contrived miniature puddles/to those grey towers,
the hidden threads of barbwire conveniently rejected,
 between roses to open when required/ 
less desirable paintwork as alive as this trespass
the entrance by the smog and bile/translucent 
and only out of footprints broken, offering the clouds
remain at this time never make contact/
duties in demand repudiating of memorial, 
a blessing reprehensible blind eyes at their own 
cloud of dust/the day missed slowly past, those 
clouds only offer false security/clothes you wear a
statement, refusing contact/this night surrounds
conversation cut, the significance of those rows,
dwelling now numbed/and you question the relevance 
around this glass, by that taste, less bitter, now finally 
at last allowed/a constant cycle but which burns, 
offering us both a sliver of freedom.

Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Jim Leftwich - Three poems

The eYe, an iMpOster

        NarRatiVe Boosts
Heed ah, that nOt Is Why / Nor
    wasHes / macEration
MiliTim hiss VoMis, coNtaining
frOm tech-bReath, a pOlitics
         of MomeNtary cRiteRia


TomoRrOw, again, GenerAtes aLienation

MaKing iNteNtions "a Great Else" tHe
   caraMbola tRee The
EnduRing aRcHeTypes Seize the
BricKLaYers: hUman LiGHt eXpeCtaNcy,
    past-feMur rapid sOciety
  & feLine eCOnoMics


seVered deCibeLs

juMping Lures
 Fuming maKiNg
  Listen aNother
  foRms oF thOUHgt
 aRRanged aGainst
the prOGressive
 iNdex are an
  entire lecture
   temporary in
 a state eye pore