NEVERS – angelo colavita

nevers

never as cold as alone
never as grievance as cowering
never as erstwhile as while away
never as milk as apology
never as pointed as silent
never as sentient as salient
never as cause as roundabout
never as hiccup as dying
never as frogs-hop as toad-croak
never as ordinary as chemical burn
never as prescribed as diaries
never as ocean as beginning
never as lost as ocean
never as poem as breathing
never as cost as cat’s pajamas
never as love as never
never as sometimes
never as nevermind
never as fact as daydream
never as bird as poem
never as whole as posturing
never as skinny minnie as loosie-goosie
never as punk as monks and monkeys
never as goth as a grandmother
never as metal as hedge nettle
never as entropy as dystrophy
never as end as cluster
never stars

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Angelo Colavita is a nihilist and experimental poet living in Philadelphia, where he serves as Founding Editor of Empty Set Press and Associate Editor at Occulum Journal. He is the author of two chapbooks, Flowersonnets (2018) and Heroines (2017), with work forthcoming or appearing in Pigeon Anthology 2, Dream Pop Journal, Prolit Magazine, Breadcrumbs, Luna Luna Magazine, Yes Poetry, Be About It Zine, and elsewhere online and in print. Follow him on Twitter @angeloremipsum and on Instagram @angelocolavita   

Photo: Samuel Zeller

on bones – shelby yaffe

sweat.jpg

If I could give you the beat
I think King David danced to
I would use my rib bone as
my holy drumstick, my skin
pulled taut to be my drum, taut
like women pull at their flesh
in the mirror when they cry

If I could give you a boat
hewn from my own clavicles
bound with red cord, mortared with
red lipstick, I would let you
laugh and jump in the water
and I would glow when you called
my bones useful, sharp, precise

If I could give you my bones
weapons brittle and moonlit
with sewing needle scratches
the flaws of a blood diamond
I would say, Bones do not cry
Bones have no mouth to open
when they scream into the grave

moon

Shelby Yaffe is a queer author, poet, and singer-songwriter living in Denver. Her short fiction has been featured in the Fast Forward Anthology Flash 101: Surviving the Fiction Apocalypse and in Suspect Press. Shelby would love to write a poem for your girlfriend. You can find out more about Shelby and her work at shelbyyaffe.com

Photo: Jay Halsey

cutting bones – morgan leathem weiss

bone

They cut bones
while their lover saws coconuts.

Lining them up against the brick wall,
there is nothing for the sun to bleach.

Tinny, tenacious shrieks
pierce the air and emit an aria.

Metallic, it leaves a poor taste on the tongue,
the kind of putrid fur no scraper can peel.

The sound of bones primordial
against a backdrop of bold, fuzzy shells

hangs over human heads,
calculating, ruminating, no other than a bored specter.

One person struggles to find meaning,
but is left with the other cradling the saw.

Trapped within the jungle’s fury,
even the bones are not themselves.

moon

Morgan Leathem Weiss is a writer and folklorist from the Midwest. Her poetry has appeared in The Raven’s Perch, Really Serious Literature, Ghost City Review and is forthcoming in Clockwise Cat, while her essays have been featured in Jadaliyya and Folklore Thursday. When she is not interviewing archaeologists, she enjoys podcasts, experimental film, and exploring ruins. She splits her time between Oaxaca, Chicago, and the forests of Connecticut.

Photo: @zellersamuel

where the color gets out – ghost #4

where the color

That person is a tight furrowing.
We are doctors of light, cauterizing
the wounds where the color gets out.
There are people who want to eat
your color. My last partner said,
half-eaten is eaten, & she was disbarred.

Having your color eaten by night wolves
is a subsequent inevitability: a sentient
outpouring of colorlessness. Everything wants
to eat. It’s gone before I look around.

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Photo: Nick Sarro

revolution #10 – the french destroyer bambara

0000 beat

found poetry from Beatles articles

deep inside / orchestral formality / please / please / please / please / only Northern fans / Janice the stripper / we can’t read music / snapped up / leave please / East Ham Granada / hand one to bruce / 4:30 am / throat sweets keep up going / standing on a telegram / number ten / in a ballroom / soaking wet with heat / the royalties haven’t come in yet / holy of holies / Liverpool black market / you could have boiled an egg / left alone on the doorstep / ice cold / my wings are broken and so is my hair / persistent termites / cliff-top / cliff-side theatre / arranged to meet elsewhere / mind you said Paul / it’s all in the mind you know / backing Johnny Gentle / boys / someone bought George another Pepsi-Cola / you become naked / the son of a painter / Best was sick / we need a suntan after working under arclights for so long / on holiday / there was a plane strike / Brian was / up the Eiffel Tower / the Miracles / we took pictures / with our love / the Queen Mother said later / try to realize / complete audience silence / very small / not a scream / eerie phenomenon / hair brushed to / last number / a glossy sheen / last number / last number

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Photo: Isai Ramos

south broadway ghost society – raising funds for first print journal

00 ghosts

Friends,

I am starting a gofundme to raise money for the first ever print journal to be distributed by the literary and arts collective I run, South Broadway Ghost Society, and I am asking your help by pledging anything you can to help, big or small.

In the last four months since inception, South Broadway Ghost Society has grown immensely. We’ve already featured hundreds of writers, poets, artists and photographers, many of which right of of Denver, on our online journal, our curated Instagram and on social media at large. We’ve hosted four very eclectic events thus far: a reading at Mutiny Information Cafe, an open mic for letters at the Corner Beet, an intimate poetry/music mashup at Green Lady Gardens and most recently, an art gallery/live music/poetry event out of Thought/Forms Gallery near the Arts District on Santa Fe.

Ghost Society has 100% of my heart in it. I’ve made a commitment to myself to dedicate at least ten years to this project, wherein I intend to continue hosting events and I am very excited to announce, start an annual print journal which I aim to have distributed as largely as possible. Outside of obvious avenues of distribution like local and chain bookstores, I also want to get the journal into metaphysical stores and would love to have tables at events such as the Denver Zine Fest, DiNK and the Curiosities & Oddities Expo. The magazine will be fully illustrated with art and photography featured against works of writing from every genre; poetry, non-fiction, essays, fiction, recipes, spells, whatever finds its way to us.

I am asking for your help to make that happen. Our goal of $999 would make it possible to have the foundation to build up from there, to pay artists who are accepted into the print journal and get going on distribution this October. Thank you for considering investing in this project which means the world to me.

Even if you can’t donate, you can help a lot just by sharing the gofundme page. You can find that page HERE.

Much Love,

Brice Maiurro
Founder/Editor-In-Chief, South Broadway Ghost Society

*Anyone who contributes $50 or more will receive a numbered first printing copy of the journal when it is available in October of 2019 mailed to you, or available for pickup at any of our events. Please include your address in the comments or email your physical address with the subject “Print Journal 50” to soboghosts@gmail.com.

Thank you.

in that pit – megan heise

pic 5e - Edited

on grief. you. can’t look. at his. face. in pictures. avert. your.
eyes. quick. you wait. to teeter. over the. edge. into. oblivion.
obsession. remember. he said. it’s okay. he said. to be evil.

 

 

 

mirror. your old face. no. you don’t. see. his. face. except in.
dreams. blame it all. you think. on the caffeine. sconced.
lights. flicker. he tells you. no. soft. message. soft. received.

 

 

 

more. uh. lord. than pot. more. uh. night. than day. you
wonder. googling. medical. or medicinal. must. get. search
terms. right. gut genug. he says. good. enough. but. you
swear. you. are right. like. before. like. intrinsent. wasn’t real.

 

 

 

well. because. she’s not. the one. who’s dead. you say. maybe
if. you say. you read yours first. stack. on windowsill. mushu.
speaks. no. that. was someone. else. computers. you ask. try.
to remember. there must. you think. have been. computers.

 

 

 

latin. german. english. french. when you. came back. from
europe. you had. you say. a new. rule. you say. tens. on jacks.
a slap. ping. them. atic. sch. eme. sch. ism. sch. ool. sch. ade.

 

 

 

oh. no. that’s not. where it. ends. farm. cat. burn pile. field.
her. them. sand. sting. sex. on the beach. ice. in our teeth.

 

 

 

grasp. suck. pull. stuffed. scarecrows. suicide missions.
suicidal. king. charlemagne. trick. or treat. house. calls. car.
wrecks. ayn. fucking. rand. ponderous. tomes. wait. not that.

 

 

 

that letter. breasts. brushing. the food. collegiate. attire.
where. did you go. you don’t. re. ah. yes. head. member.
pounds. all that. yes. blood. her house. right. was haunted.

 

 

 

names. diaries. pink. brown. blue. but. you lost. you lament.
the old notebook. with. all the. poems. you say. about you.

 

 

 

snape. not like. you. gave. a shit. scale of. viggo. to alan.
grease. honor. lightning. you. must. have. been. in. that. pit.

 

pic 1h.jpg

SBGS December

Megan Heise is a writer, artist, and teacher, who lives in and is from the American rust belt. She has three plants: Lenny, a bunny ears cactus who lives in Greece; Louie, a bamboo shoot who loves to travel; and Wally, an aloe plant who is having a hard time adjusting to life “back home” after many adventures elsewhere. She curates the education and advocacy blog, Solidarity with Refugees.

Photography provided by Megan Heise as well.

 

sometimes a building will not let you – ghost #4

ghost yard

Sometimes a building will not let you
move around itself the way you want:
you feel an architectural punch.

You step over the leaves, & there is a branch
you did not see. You feel it in the back
of your leg, & again feel it for days.

You see a voicemail. You must have missed a call.
There are no missed calls. You cannot fetch
the voicemail. You turn your phone off
& back on again. You will do this again.

sbgs cowskull

submit to south broadway ghost society.

ghost selfie – alexandra naughton

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Alexandra Naughton is based in Richmond, California. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Be About It Press, established in 2010. She is the author of six poetry collections including You Could Never Objectify Me More Than I’ve Already Objectified Myself (Punk Hostage Press, 2015), I Will Always Be In Love (Paper Press, 2015), and I Wish You Never Emailed Me (Ghost City Press, 2016). Her first novel, American Mary, was published by Civil Coping Mechanisms in 2016. Her latest collection of short stories, Rapid Transit, was published in March 2018 by Nomadic Press.