An A Cappella Tribute Elvis Presley, God of the rowdy pelvis, was a Sun King in his own right. An elder of the Craft and a Most High Priestess of Elvis, says Elvis personally awoke white, middle-class America’s white-man-overbite chakra, and shapeshifted throughout his life from the splendid young Peacock God to the fat, laughing […]
Rebuked Because the thunderstorm needed watching, I rocked on the front porch to behold the night scolded by lightning. Above me a buzzing bulb drew a twisting cloud of insects. When they reached it, they ricocheted, scalded and blind. _____ M.J. De Angelis lives on the Lamprey River in Durham, New Hampshire and enjoys fly […]
Untitled Send a god symbol through our daisy-chained heads— fix the fireflies in our throats, drown receivers for impending dreams, stammering the dulcimer, name me kin, gentle conquest of meat, torrents of mania, polite chained cameos, unchained epochs of light roused over and over, come the shadows between the hours, falling on the same backseats […]
They were sorcerers, bringers of sunshine, gypsy queens shimmying down the hills of the pregnant earth, budding with life, crashing through the tunnels that once contained them. Minds like baby dragons trapped in acorn caps, unraveling and spilling over edges of a dark stage into an audience Nothing but empty chairs draped with dust and […]
and they say that’s how Brooke Shields landed the 1980 spring issue of Vogue, after all – before those eglantine eyes made her a tabloid queen, it was her brows that floored the likes of Thierry Mugler and Azzedine Alaïa: those martial, luscious supercilia, cutting across her forehead like two thick rows of Idaho barley […]
the pedantic romantic his somatic compunction his chaste waste the static charge of arousal is just that, static, without the impetus of action the semiotic semi-erotics of formative fornicative experiences mislead without falsehood impulse spurious vaginal angels petrichor to mithridate shamanic shagman caress a rough flesh of lump and crease Michael C. Rush is made […]
I was at the bar, worried my hair looked like Frankenstien’s bride, admiring your tan arms. My hands wiped air like napkins I don’t know what I expected them to say— didn’t know they were wilted sheets, surrender flags. When we watched the Bollywood movie, I wanted to be that girl who unfurled in a […]
- Believe it or not, the ancient Chinese 5-Agent Principle accounts for us all. 1/ Water (born in a year ending in 2 or 3) -helps wood but hinders fire; helped by metal but hindered by earth with her transparent tenderness coded with colorless violence she is always ready to support or sink the powerful […]
Dewdrop bodies melt together like tallow candles in firebombed Dresden, while hummingbirds dogfight over nectar, ruby and false, here in this place, where the butterflies come to die.
Blood and Calendars There is deep terror in how the world wants to curl around your hand. It is almost too easy. Monuments collapse with a push. Let’s place boundaries on the sea before us. String up ropes. Too much time, too little motivation. I want to play video games for whole afternoons. I want […]
S&R Poetry: “Mother nature is, sometimes, just a guy at a bar giving advice to a friend about meeting a girl for the first time,” by Michael Pacholski
A thing of no ordinary pulse A thing of adventure in mountains A thing of love and when you speak of love a million have spoken your thoughts vibed your waves and dreamt those archetype dreams of the urns and embers of love already but keep going This thing is your heart and your veins […]
In the twilight of the night, in the rain-fog at summer’s edge, when the skunk comes amble-burrowing in the compost heap for scraps of marrow to deep to suck from bone, when the rain comes on the cement porch steps, a-pat-it a-pa-tit a-pat-it, when the skunk runs rumba to its rhythm and off into the […]
Zoology students are apt to quail when asked what use are the bands on a snail The evidence they learn in class the banding helps it hide in grass If this is so it seems absurd the shell is so round and curved For life in grass one would conjecture a somewhat flatter architecture The […]
Timing Is time a thought that we create, a crack in space meant to alleviate the ache, harness worn on the wrist like a shackled prison bitch? I wonder what is at stake if time is sent away, eternity swept up in flame, forgotten like rampage. Avoid the tick and tock purposefully, and go on […]
Unpacking words, she spreads them out Like cards that might reveal something Hidden. There’s no room for your doubt. Unpacking her words, they fan out Into a hand, neat, clear of rings. Unpacking those words, she spreads them out Beyond speech. Until they can sing.
Visible Storage - in the basement of the Rietberg Museum, Zürich Sinuous bodies joining hands in Indian sandstone ankle linked across a ledge— Peruvian puma beside West Mexican fetishes vermillion delicate bone masks & rhinos of Mali & La Côte d’Ivoire— Oblong faces & dark mystery stare empty-eyed longing to be touched through the glass.