To enjoy yourself is to reveal yourself
as a heartbreak of irises
or the petals of a bomb.

To describe is to measure
the difference between
what we are and what we expect
to be: if seed,
then the boom; if petal,
then the plume; if blink,
then blink.

I blink and see the edge
of blood accelerate through
the window, if heart pounding,
then the room is empty
and you can see it clearly —

the heart is a bomb shoved
into a glass show and brought
to the party as our getaway plan.

N/A Volume 1, Issue 7 is now available on our online store!

onehundreddollars:

thetargetbird:

no-assholes:

Featuring work from Clare Stuber, Vanessa Borjon, Zachary L. Pearse, Erin Dorney, Craig Kurtz, Tobey Myers, Kevin Grijalva, Cynthia Spencer, Russell Jaffe, Isabella J. Rotman, and cover art by Monica Dubray.

A copy of the magazine can be yours for only $4, so do yourself a favor and order one today

This mag is super cool and I’m in it and you shouldn’t buy it just because I’m in it but you should definitely because it’s great and with any luck I don’t make it less great.

Just a reminder that issue 7 is cool, available, and inexpensive. Pick up an issue today!

I just got mine and can confirm that it is indeed cool.

2 Jul 2014 / Reblogged from onehundreddollars with 25 notes

Glacier

To wake in full face of a mouth gaping
on giant yawn, teeth raw like Sunday’s ache
and glacial morning breath, to be unseen
in a land of mirrored sky, I do not think
it was a great idea to get so high
last night, man, but shit, you see that bird?
I think it was an eagle, osprey, some prey
bird! Bugs, man, everywhere, you kill em good
though! Let’s climb to the top of that mountain
to find where purple turns to blue and shits
beautiful on everyone. I got
the beers, you got the snacks? Ready to go,
wait, fuck, headache, let’s have our coffee first.

Written during a Brooklyn Poets Yawp event, based on the prompt of writing about a beautiful experience in plain language in iambic pentameter. Or something like that.

Cross the wilderness, nail it down,
it’s impossible to tell from the picture
whether it’s true or false - that’s how
I hate to begin, plagued by uncertainty
and devouring space with faulty
mathematics of fate. Running away
from this, everything, is the same
as running away from nothing.
Most stories begin in finding meaning
in meaningless things, and I don’t want
hurt what I love or care about
so let’s make a case for the hammer.

10 Jun 2014 / 27 notes / poetry poem lit ttb poetry 

Anonymous asked: The writing on this blog is the kind of writing I aspire to produce. The words take me to unexpected places and I adore it.

This is a really nice thing to say, and I really appreciate it. Thank you, kind stranger, hope to read whatever you’re aspiring to one day.

7 Jun 2014 / 14 notes