As far as stickerings go, it's been 100 degrees plus in Omaha as of late, so outdoor venues have been few and far between. However, as the summer is winding down, it's cooling off significantly and affording me opportunities to hit the University campus and a bit more of downtown.
We're quite fond of the poems that made it through the selection this time around. It was a pretty cutthroat deal. Keep writing, keep submitting, or don't and just enjoy the scenery!
“Fall, A Zoo Story”
By Sean Donahue
In the right light
You can see these stigmata,
And they're coming from the inside out this time.
Little red rabbit holes,
They take me right back to the zoo.
The first time you told me
You wanted my hot hallucinations,
And I let you suck them off the tip of my tongue.
And we fell into a fever forever.
We had sex like captive animals
And then slept in separate beds
Because we didn't share any dreams.
I'd tell you,
"I'm so tired I can't sleep"
We looked like raccoons
And laughed like hyenas.
Spotted like leopards,
Kissing like lepers
With nothing left to lose but our faces.
A condom in one hand,
A gun in the other.
Of course that's a metaphor.
You know we never used a condom.
You never wanted to protect yourself from me.
You wanted me to leave you,
Transparent and with more holes than I found you
So you could be a plastic bag
On an errant wind.
Beautiful refuse
Guided by chance and clusterfucked by confusion.
Crazy as Helter Skelter
In a battered woman's shelter.
You wanted me to hit you so hard
That I'd smack you back to autumn,
Nothing to break your fall but the leaves.
By Sean Donahue
In the right light
You can see these stigmata,
And they're coming from the inside out this time.
Little red rabbit holes,
They take me right back to the zoo.
The first time you told me
You wanted my hot hallucinations,
And I let you suck them off the tip of my tongue.
And we fell into a fever forever.
We had sex like captive animals
And then slept in separate beds
Because we didn't share any dreams.
I'd tell you,
"I'm so tired I can't sleep"
We looked like raccoons
And laughed like hyenas.
Spotted like leopards,
Kissing like lepers
With nothing left to lose but our faces.
A condom in one hand,
A gun in the other.
Of course that's a metaphor.
You know we never used a condom.
You never wanted to protect yourself from me.
You wanted me to leave you,
Transparent and with more holes than I found you
So you could be a plastic bag
On an errant wind.
Beautiful refuse
Guided by chance and clusterfucked by confusion.
Crazy as Helter Skelter
In a battered woman's shelter.
You wanted me to hit you so hard
That I'd smack you back to autumn,
Nothing to break your fall but the leaves.
“Animal
on the Median”
~Anonymous~
~Anonymous~
Your
limp, slender grace
Sprays
pink sherbet
Foam
in death
The
ants partake
So you
can say that
You gave something back.
"I Get Drunk And Clean The House"
~Anonymous~
i wake up to rain.
iced coffee. amaretto.
eggs with Tabasco and 90's alternative.
i play Sega until i have to pee.
i get drunk and clean the house
Better Than Ezra is better than anything
on a rumdriven cleanspree.
it's raining harder and i put in a Paul Thomas Anderson
after the first 40 minutes, i'm out.
i wake up for the last scene
and let the thick, stringy credit tracks
accompany my raingaze.
i load the gun and reel in the moment.
when was the last time
i did everything as right
as i did today?
an absent memory
in an empty...
click.
well
today was almost perfect.
“Paleontology”
~Anonymous~
~Anonymous~
I’m in
a sprawl
Drying
out
Letting
time stroll
Soaking
in
Chin
rubbing the carpet
Of the
new apartment
Wasting
light
Beetles
at this level, they’re cows
Elephants,
I feel them surviving
Like
swelling peaches.
Persisting
in massiveness being
Dinosaurs
lost and I’m a universe
Big.
Awkward waste of space
Fleshy.
Lumpy. Wrong.
Fermenting
under soursweet lemon light
Shunning
time.
While
beetle flashes blueblack and green
Volkswagen
on tiptoe
Primed to combust.
"Veins Poem: EBGDAE”
~Anonymou ~
We re-veined our bodies
Like stringing guitars
Finding chords to strike
With each other.
She had a freeze-pop body-frame
And only one vein to w
eave there within.
She had simple circuitry
Not the typical ricocheting, crochet
Fray to complicate and tangle
And wrongly interweave, bramble-like.
Bomb-like. Just one vain.
Passion and life from end to end.
She stood baby-bird mouthed
Watching the fireworks.
So we started to start over
With our insides.
New veins will bring new blood
Will bring new life
Will bring new love
Will cure our disenchantment
Will make us more like
the girl with one vein.
I mean, hopefully.
