Example Proving We are Never Safe
In the teasing dark of morning,
girl with hands dried like the white-dust rot
of forgotten orange stands under the lamp-light
rays at the station’s farthest end,
where men with hoodie strings pulled taut
like police nooses smoke joints not-so-secretly,
where men in suits pace before dates
or job interviews or just because
man is known to love walking over
the most ground he can.
Girl with body like a dagger wrapped
in dining cloth slips her phone out of pocket,
checks train times, counts seconds before
speed walk along sparking train slowing
before landing where lone man stands,
glancing through girl’s shadow
into some simile or metaphor of world
where girl wants him or maybe knows his name.
Girl with head like a burst grape, ear canals gushing
with headphone-hip-hop to beat
the winter down, joins man on platform
at the minute the train is due, circumferences him
like a gnashing gator stands at his feet, like his hands
are Floridian deep water glossed with moss
and flies. Like touch from man is drowning
if it holds you long enough. Man pools
into girl’s vision with a claiming wave of hand.
When is the train due?
Maybe we should move to the other side.
When the tracks have snow on them,
it means they’re not using the tracks.
It’s actually not heavy enough to sit
on the tracks like this, considering the
trains run often. I’m serious, the tracks
Man talks like girl isn’t oozing back into herself,
like girl and man at trainstop in morning are likely
friends. Girl holding twenty-three years
of misplaced trust like dead deer dragging
enters train on the right side at the right time,
cradles her head like the man’s glance is an arrow
through it, cinches her hood over hat embroidered
with workplace logo, with red-apple target bobbing
to train-rustle, to headphone rapper’s fast lips clapping
like bear trap, Baby, you love me so. You just
don’t know it yet.
Kara Goughnour is a queer writer and documentarian living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. They received their Bachelor’s Degree in Creative and Professional Writing from The University of Pittsburgh. They are the recipient of the 2018 Gerald Stern Poetry Award, and have work published or forthcoming in Third Point Press, the Southampton Review, and over twenty-five others. Follow them on Twitter @kara_goughnour or read their collected and exclusive works at karagoughnour.com.
Once wrote a poem for you
Now writing a poem about you
My boss in 19
My friend in 21
My boss in 24
My grandmother in 6 and 24
My mother in all of it
Talked about patriarchy
-though never knew a father
Once asked for the right to
Anna Pantelakou studied History and Theory of Art. She is passionate about academic writing, and is currently working on a children’s story. She was born in icy Canada, therefore writes both in English and Greek. She is based in sunny Athens.
The Wedding March on Soap Operas
Someone knocks on the door of kitchen
It is Frankenstein
In a tailcoat and a white tie
For his wedding
To be exact
He is a monster
Created by a mad scientist
Dr. Victor Frankenstein
Has no name at all
The kitchen faces a creek
His coffin in solitude was dug up from the soil
And he came aboard on a glacier
From the underground waterway
Could you make the poached egg with yolk?
The golden colour is good for our escape at midnight, isn’t it?
A widow warms a pot
Creek under her feet
Passes through the downtown
And will pour into their final abode
Has no name at all
Alone, Throne, a Lonely Thorn
My elder sister in a cerulean blue wig is
On the swing as the throne alone in the park
Putting lipstick in vermillion red on her dry lips
Scattering petals of Geranium whirl in Miracle Wind
When her front teeth crush the groundnuts slowly
Out-of-season dead leaves sound in her skull
It is a lull in the sea
Listening to the rumours of sudden rain
A priest brakes the rusty bicycle again
Her flared skirt flaps in lightning
hiromi suzuki is a poet, artist living in Tokyo, Japan. The author of Ms. cried, 77 poems by hiromi suzuki (kisaragi publishing, 2013), logbook (Hesterglock Press, 2018) and INVISIBLE SCENERY (Low Frequency Press, 2018). Her works are published internationally in Otoliths, BlazeVOX, Empty Mirror, Hotel, Burning House Press, DATABLEED, MOONCHILD MAGAZINE, Hotel, talking about strawberries all of the time, Mookychick, THE CERUROVE, Coldfront, RIC Journal and 3:AM Magazine. More work can be found at hiromisuzukimicrojournal.tumblr.com.
Twitter : @HRMsuzuki
I dislike being picked up
Set me among the constellations
I cut off your head
and slept with it, strung up over mine
Spot lit by naked bodies of women
Duh for the obsession
I will summon whatever again
I would masturbate
being bound to a rock
Being grabbed at
your skin looks good
You have something over me
Who ever heard of a man turning
women to stone
Maybe I don’t crave permanence
so much as another idea
intimacy an anchorage
that I am trying to dispel
I lean late
To contemplate clean
There’s a lot
With this old thread of recollection
There’s a glass cage
That’s being emptied
Leaving a residue
A mild scent
In the freezer
Balled up and stiff
For the entire season
Until the backyard is softer
I wrote a list
Marked the calendar
Checked the ground
Eulogized a little
About the dainty
From the dirt
Katie Ebbitt is a poet and social worker. Her chapbook, ANOTHER LIFE, was published by Counterpath Press, and she has contributed poetry to the upcoming anthology Rendering Unconscious (Trapart Books, 2019). Her work has appeared in Tupelo Magazine, FanZine, Queen Mob’s, Prelude, and Deluge, among others. She curates By The Way reading series in New York City.
Pep talk with Father
Good morning. Resilience and patience. I arrived home. Sia got the small room.
cleaned the house all over in the kitchen worms from leftovers
Tonight the kids are coming I bought a mattress for the little –sleep
I am not feeling well. Rebound
In Athens I feel better with chicken pox
Next week two weeks on pills to catch me up.
Don’t worry. Your worries feed happy clouds he gave me 1000 euros.
Sia is a good housekeeper. Quiet child.
Be happy with new blue-s dress
Good morning. wanna hear my news
Where will you spend Christmas?
We will go to Morocco. God knows. Hugs& kisses
Susan is beautiful, beautiful enough for me
Lubul budul my head skipped a bit today
two days after Susan’s visit her
fewer bits the merrier Christmas at shopping malls car parks
a sedimentation of bags and collections in them I trust
I am tired I will visit professor Gementzi 74 years’ old
Would it help if I lived in Athens?
It’s hard. I can’t go to the gym
Fuzzy head can’t collect me
The pills began to work and I am locked in the coldest bathroom
We will not go to Athens. Susan fell and broke her knee
My mouth is dry I can’t sleep the pills have side effects
How will I make it on my own? Good question. he gave me a pair of trousers
Take care of Susan.
I arrived at the airport How are you?
My migraines are unbearable Delay/ traffic my flight is at 8pm
I didn’t get to see you with the other woman you left when
I saw a poster on an Athenian café about Sankara and his illusion show.
Migraines are the legacy of witches,
garbage bags of unfulfilled traffic.
I want to witness Sankara’s magic — he might possess the insides of Joan Crawford’s deranged daughter who kills her mother’s lovers.
I hope he cures migraines.
Tattoo artists are the best forgers
What’s your plans now? It’s late my throat is quietly tuning with my bowl
Daddy wants a new car a nice car double sided
One cut of the dead and I feel hardwired to plan inks
He says nothing
He’s just a figment of people’s imaginations
God replace the old BMW
When we met, you were pretty and I lonely
God save ink forgers (A lot of God in here).
Thank you for confirming which life session you attended.
We note that you submitted a pay claim form for a total of 5 hours.
Why? What’s bothering you? Calm down. Don’t pressure yourself. Enjoy life.
As you only attended 5 of the 7 training hours provided by us,
you need to show love.
Life is beautiful. If you find a job you really enjoy, you’ll feel better.
As you only attended 2 of the 5 training hours provided by Father,
you need to stop thinking too much.
We will therefore not be approving the additional 5 hours.
Start yoga and meditation to live in the now.
Descending into mad, watching the “Shining” on Netflix, “you are nothing but a fraud”
Decaying replica of Socrates unwritten words
The shinning of snow in a full-packed auditorium with neo-soul sounds
&   &from New Orleans
copy-paste my mind needs citalopram placebo effects
smoking gives a boost   & smoking gives a boost
in the mist of a saddening day smoking gives a boost &to Mona-Lisa and back
“you are a fraud”, you hear me!
I am doing my best it’s not enough
I am really trying not to desert her
Russian dolls pop one after the other
snails suck my gastric fluids and let go of my fingers
godfather died and with him the golden necklace of the Russian doll
Bless her, she was a good girl.
Diana Manesi began writing and recording diaries when she was 11. She stopped once she reached adulthood and went into academia. For many years she engaged with feminist theory, social anthropology, and cultural studies. In the last years, she began experimenting with poetic form and playful prose. In 2017 she published her first poetry collection in Greek, entitled “One and whole: One bite” by Queer Ink Publications. Recently she began writing in English. She currently resides in London and whenever she can she travels and attends poetry workshops.
it is pure gold the satin oil on god’s fingers, the little devils trotting towards us
good grief you go go
go get clean the whole
/ ’tis for your eyes’ sake
the sense of the land being sucked out of you /
you try a robe on,
my poor frangipane girl,
Gabriele licks your forearm,
the sun glees
and this feeling of transatlantic
could be real.
Serena Braida is a writer & performer currently specialising in voice work. She grew up near Rome and moved to London in 2011. Her poetry pamphlet BLUE SHEILA was published by Dancing Girl Press in 2018. Serena’s work, both in Italian and English, has appeared or is forthcoming in HVTN Press, Hotel, Orlando, Hotdog, Nuovi Argomenti and more, and in anthologies including Wretched Strangers (Boiler House Press 2018). Notable performances include the Festival of Italian Literature in London, Goldsmiths LitLive, European Poetry Festival, Late Night Jazz at the Royal Albert Hall’s Elgar Room and the play Muscovado.