1. This is the last stop, kid. Ferry boats like giants. When you left for London, you started with my eyes. “Come on Lion,” I said. “Say it like you mean it.” And you…
Browsing Category Poetry
Breakdown at Insurance Firm by Chris Crittenden
he thinks fluorescence might be a blizzard, and snow angels could be sculpted in the drifts. the only escape he has. it lunges out of the delinquency of his Id, disrupting the algorithm of the…
Patterns In Rotting Wood by Chris Crittenden
gills, scabs, cuts, cyrillics not found in vacua, dark matter or nix. fingernails, orts, hemidemi- semiquavers, brawl of apostrophes, crows-feet circling grandmothers’ chins, duck/rabbit blitz, codex of muzzles losing shape, Ark’s freckle and Hyde. kiss…
Sunset Behind Coal Plant by Chris Crittenden
a fish cloud chafes purples, stubs rubies, cinctures a toe of moon, as starlings exhale through its fluffed ribs like bitumen. the ocean weltering below, rambunctious fidget of dip and teat, checkerboard slip-sloshing into mutual…
Untitled by Braden Bell
The country grew fatter by the acre as some of us wondered whether there were any words left. These thin ribs choked the plains that are so damn plenty and the skies thundered from the…