Poem Number One

By Wil Crary


trembling with subterranean excitement,
knuckles aching,
respond respond.
I’d quite like that, he thinks, immediately chiding his simpleton’s tongue.
I accept your invitation, eloquence of an egret.

Vinyl Black Top

by Rob Rice


i. Praise for a Body

We eat off gas here

No Wood Beer Meat

Your resentments testify as

To what I am so I kill

Men like you do


New auction topic

Barter’s mold and

River killer bikes

And benches and rust bugs

Find homes in hearts and stop them


Tonight’s hardwater expresses purple and

It kills there, forgone and monstrous urge to include


So faces bloom blue hemorrhage



ii. Unsettled in an Apartment

Hear me I’m listening I’m loose

I’m the rapt king of madness and broken doors

Sated on sale beef they say don’t make me look at him


Sashmaker saw me nude

And built me into this lit

By dusty electric silhouettes in blue-gas


“Things are more like they are now than they’ve ever been before”

Perversity’s fuck buddy in mourning and prescription avarice


Limp offer, the tepid petty lure

Draped on the pond and waiting

For the drowning to sicken and stick their gums

Raw handfuls of meat

In the folders’ sore wet

Layer of oil on the surface muddled with fat from the skin, all mush and

Radiant oval colors


iii. Fullness in a City

Goose hair remnant of cunts toads and rocks

Bickering of pigeons

Skirts cast in sick and hot air

That vagina looks like a walnut

Made of rubber and ticks


Shit and gum

Tan grease of wrung filters

Inspiration, the packaging artist

Men and boys and dogs and Mothers contribute

Clumps of scalp and syrup, pops

Wrinkles brace like scaffolding

Shaft collapse survivors and those bird eaters

Blisters and silt caskets

Fingers and bunk, lips