Saturday, August 18, 2018

Extremities by D.C. Wojciech

Sky is Raining Coyotes by Ricky Armendariz


Through the open window coyotes

enter my skull. They pick at the mind
with their singing teeth. In an empty
room I've been smoking the same joint
since 2002. Turning sharp corners
and breathing like an animal. The plane
inside appears only after splitting
the tongue. I'm speaking to you and
the orbs & spectres circling your crown.
Pacing and weaving incense in the air.
To revere what vision cannot still.
Rings of oleander unfold my throat inside
the color of daylight. Their shadows are naked &
smuggled in from temporary deserts. Those
to follow will be lonely & full of joy. Seeds
of reckoning found in lean undulating hours.
In renounced rhythms. In the eyes. Swaying
from its center. The gleam of another world
ripens the original fix.

Saturday, August 4, 2018

'Go Tell The Bees' by Eli T. Mond

'GO TELL THE BEES' 1/3 (2018) by Eli T. Mond
'I AM DEAD ' 2/3 (2018) by Eli T. Mond
'AND FULL OF LIFE' 3/3 (2018) by Eli T. Mond

Go Tell the Bees

At the moment of my final breath,
Before a single human tear is shed,
Rush to the fields, face the wind,
And tell the bees that I am dead.
Leave a loaf of bread and a glass
Of wine on the Earth beside their hive,
And hear the buzzing mourners sing
Hymns in honor of my newfound stillness.
Hum with them as they rise and fall
With me, an empathic gesture mirroring
My descent into the bowels of oblivion.