by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
by Mitch Green Single, unattended – a body performs play. Inanimate, transient – lukewarm energy. Created, she’s careless – a vicarious peripheral. Tasteless, invasive – illusive principal. Serial, worshipped – doomsday Dillinger. Atmospheric, apparition – amble listener. Arsonist, artist – provocative division. Dainty, dependent – terrestrial human. Soiled, disheveled –…
by Mitch Green She’s a bed banger bent bad. A naughty navigation mapped out in a maze, made to blackout the shapes in our minds. she’s a complex, gravitational God magnet disarming the dark of air. A Dyson sphere soaking up our sections less scattered, for our salvations most shattered….
by Mitch Green She stood still – in broken fragments of bleeding glass, Washed into palms of home-grown flesh; Psychopathic, necromantic, romantic – lost in mass. Meddling meaning, mingles with mad hands; Clapping in rhythmic, rhyming pace. In dreamscapes you thrive – Real. Mold – casted to hold. So close…