When all I can see is the wreckage & everyone else has gone home when the suburb goes back to sleep
Founding Editor Matt Guerrero addresses the current crisis.
i pray for a human
to rub my belly but i feel nothing
but the AC blowing my fur
into unnatural waves
Steve shuts down the lights on the empty hallways and locks the main door. He re-checks it exactly seven times, as usual. He heads out to his little Nissan Sentra and takes one last look at the place. His pride stands on his immaculately ironed sleeve. His duty shines like his polished shoes.
carrying manila envelopes
anxiously awaited by our parents,
eager to read the tarot
of the report cards inside
diane it looks like sadness inheritance
of bones and ghost hair
and she tells me near water
I long for his yellow hair
his clumsy hands
and most especially
his green and
gleaming
bones
Heavy in the labyrinth of
Mysteries, you come
to do the work
of a god you don’t
believe in.
At 5 pm, he smirks and points his chin to your other coworker: "He thinks he's a wiseguy, am I right?" He walks out and goes home to pick lemons off his lemon tree, and says, when life gives you lemons, make shrimp francaise and drink a goddamn gin & tonic.
In times like these, nothing compares to the buzz we get when we reattach our stingers and attempt to make the world a better place. Running into supermarkets and setting fire to all the boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios. Because their mascot, BuzzBee, is a cruel joke. A reminder that everything is probably hopeless and we can’t live like that.
Joseph feels isolated and alone after his growth spurt. His bike is now too small for him to use and he has acne and stretch marks on his back. Bobby however has the opposite problem. He is a late bloomer that struggles with feelings of inadequacy and insecurity when he sees his friends seemingly growing faster than he is. Connie struggles with confusing romantic attraction to both Joseph and Bobby.
I have bought oil and gas
from the shady-ass company
who drilled through the Snork Pole
long before they messed up Pensacola.
Skimpy,
you eediot, she says over and over. We don’t
know if she’s ever even watched the show,
she doesn’t know “Log,” so we really have no proof.
All is sky until the soft air whips by
bouncing bouncing off my head my shoulders
my hands hard-packing projectiles my eyes
scanning for a friend to destroy
I discovered Rush when he went to the hospital. Songs like “Marathon,” “Closer to the Heart” and “Prime Mover” found space in my A-List Playlist, along with “Limelight” (all-time fave), “Subdivisions,” “Tom Sawyer.” If you know the first few seconds of any of these, then you know. You know what good music is and maybe you’ll rejoice with me when you hear them.
You learned
“expunged” means your file still exists but only
government officials would be able to see it,
like those in airports who can allow or deny you
entry as if you were an emotional support animal.
while I wonder what episode
of Danger Mouse I could be watching
right now, right this very second,
as I careen into Shawnee Zahr,
undisputed Teen Queen of Heaven,
Instead of sleeping like everyone else in the infusion lab,
I flirt with the dietician even after she’s
made fun of my flip phone and looked at
my coconut water judgmentally.
FILM / Who Carries the Banner?: Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice 50 Years Later / Holyn Thigpen
In 1969, cruising down the sun-soaked streets of Hollywood Boulevard unveiled “wet and hot” titles from the Pussycat Theatre, the infamous Sexy Vixens (“young, beautiful girls dancing just for you!”), and flourishing starlets absorbing passing tourists with a lustful gaze. The sexual revolution, reaching its peak, had materialized the fantasies of an entire generation into unavoidable cultural staples. But for those of an earlier time, who just missed the mark of youth during such sexual upheaval, manifested fantasies acted not as a welcome indulgence, but rather, an ambiguous, unnavigable source of guilt and curiosity. Cue the characters of Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice: two married couples toeing the line between youth and middle age and, in turn, a world of sexual tradition vs. empowering exploration.
To talk to animals, I wonder if I’d have to get on all fours, hands and feet in the dirt, to make my tongue move in lion-speak, wolf-speak, hyena-speak. I wonder if it’d be as easy as Eliza Thornberry made it out to be.