Category: Uncategorized
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Pulled from dark stars. Armoredluck, hot with breath. My first planet is a heartbeat; my secondis dimmer and of the dead. My attachment to the world is a knife floatingabove my forehead and it’s how I make my way. Dramatic taproot! I am my own rider and this knifepoints only…
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You dug the shit trench, I took two hydroxizines. Zach’s dad traded a case of water for a case of warm beerHe gave me one I took a sip for every Red Cross van that passed us bytheir drivers waving. We watched as the French Broad swelled then snappedwe watched our drug…
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The games I play with myself are questions or maybe answers A puppeteer comes up to only me He says, a little olfactory plot never hurt anybody I say, what say you about architectures of thinking? Every desire has a cousin, tangential and “blue” I know exactly how to tumble,…
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An elaborate tattoo depictinga home invasion. Shouldn’t memoriesbe enough? A third bicep presentsitself before vanishing into the rest ofthe body. Bricks of condemnation formabove a nipple. Snap your attentionto the ski masks, bedroom, and mantle.The words inscribed below have faded.Now they are impossible to decipher.At one time, it was “cover…
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Those who fear the sorcerer neighborsthrow fistfuls of salt into the firewhen ominous birds pass by. My graverobbing friendsfind golden coins in dreams.They wake to the lightning’s horsemanfalling among them and turning to flame. Midnight, Saint John’s Eve. The fig treesdress for the party.Echoes of animal criessunken for millennia in…
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maybe that’s what’s always Common, all knowledge of the ground out in the world where no one, greenly, sleeps In Cassville, Joplin, Eden, Oklahoma Lawrence, Kansas even, Greenly. Even were the levees brought to quays, all that’s common of the gourded wrist-strap ( shaves a better bridge. A bridge? Facets of…
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— Originally published in Rampage Party Issue 2 — Courtney Bush is a poet, filmmaker, and childcare worker from Mississippi. She is the author of Every Book Is About the Same Thing, I Love Information, A Movie and The Lamb With the Talking Scroll.
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Pencil sketch of exploding trilobite fossil Charcoal sketch of mutant crab skeleton Charcoal drawing of an octopus scaffolding hybrid Colored pencil sketch of mutant crawfish cyborg Charcoal drawing of cephalopod lobster wasp exploding Graphite sketch of cybernetic crustacean egg-laying Graphite drawing of mutant coral copepod neodada scorpion shrimp Fossil tentacle…
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The curtains know I’m drinking beerQuit my jobThe logic of cloudsIs that they move around?This is all very interestingBut I can’t say whyI’ll just move along herePreventing you allFrom turning into ghostsMy hair silver nowI run very fast away from hereI am not thinkingNot getting a sense of the infiniteI…
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i was my father’s tongue when he first had me. and his heartache and his unguarded manhood. shaped like a suitcase handle. no pride of origin or belonging. i knew this from my mother who learnt from her mother who was not birthed, but inherited under the rubbles of men…
Poetry Nightly 