**
PHILLIP SPOTSWOOD was born into a Catholic family and turned out queer. His work can be found in Heavy Feather Review, Cartridge Lit, SunDog Lit, and is forthcoming from Hobart. He is a MFA Poetry candidate at LSU, and is the upcoming editor-in-chief of The New Delta Review.
my brain fizzing is more my life than I want it to
what’s inside introspection that erupts into annihilation
the pretty side of a cliff is the side you can die off of
elusive girls donning unnatural patterns
reality is the language of fear
I’d rather feel it virtually
distant relatives smashed at a funeral
when I think there’s no such thing as the present moment
the sun masquerading its mug shot behind a headstone
aphorism is the hand-me-down of human ruin
the void oozing its tooth under your pillow
I live inside a perspective I gild by the dumbness of heart
chasing the tail of a reverie
the more vivid the hunger the more private it feels
it’s glum to know too much
my obsession speaks to the obsolescence of things
rotting hydrangea exiting a vase
what is it about loss I can’t get enough of
**
JON-MICHAEL FRANK is the author of two forthcoming poetry chapbooks: Nostalgia Flower (Sad Spell Press) and TBD (Birds, LLC). A book of poetic comics How’s Everything Going? Not Good is out now from Ohio Edit / Cuneiform Press. He is the acquisitions editor for the small press Birds, LLC, and lives on the Puget Sound.
garden ocean kindness
In the morning I unfold the dirt from my hand
My lover is putting me through a silent retreat
Designed for compliment recipients who are unable to accept gifts
table chair window
Maximalist etiquette requires stationary wheels
The idea alone of some train is no longer good enough for me
Often I wonder what can I do with a $20 bill
string fabric sleep
It’s a circus up there where I try feeding myself yarn
There’s no pattern to follow just one foot in front of the other
Worried I’m wearing anything at all that slightly resembles pajamas
time money water
I could sleep for one more hour but my eyes won’t shut
I keep refreshing my online banking summary, nothing changes
A water bottle is my least favorite thing to carry
tree speech listen
If a woman’s shirt is longer than her jacket, leave her
I want to write and be read anywhere
There are no words you don’t know
mouth ear hand
There are no words I would use that I normally would not
Why would I
Be proving the sticks of fashion we hold together
metal glass pavement
Dragging an elevator outside
It won’t be photogenic maybe but you will feel something
What’s it like to run way over to the far end of the opposite of clarity
paper cloud metal
I can’t trust myself in the moment of looking up a definition or the weather
From here I predict
An aftertaste of shiitake mushroom drying on the evening rack of my tongue
concrete water oil
One doesn’t have to decide
Between a block sale and a ladder made of cards
I am asking you to show me how wet your fingers are
wind cloth cloth
There’s no worse sound than a door that opens immediately once it has closed
If the scarf comes down past her waist she’ll hang up before you do
What other article of clothing are you a little too good for?
**
STACEY TRAN lives in Portland, OR. www.staceytran.com