Chance Meeting on a Dissecting Table of the Crescent Leave and the Pellucid Bone Spur

Made during the Solar eclipse of Aug 21, 2017


Jason Abdelhadi

Syringes / 66
Broken Necks / 350
Turbines / 3
Trombones / 1134247
Maniacs / 778
Chess / 0995

In the fangs of a triumphant butterknife the grossest mature mantis bungles a puritan aunt. Aspire to free sacks of tea.

Intravenous armaments / 723
Breasts / 2
A hurling banana / 8


Casi Cline

Steven Cline


A well slowly fills with the deep black ooze. Drifting upwards is the severed head of the giraffe of solitude. Look there — inside the eyes — the millipedes swarm indignantly. A cold sharp echo retreats. His silver mouth opens:

“Accordian screams settle gently in the night.”

The surrounding plants split in two. A fortune cookie swims out from inside the old giraffe’s ear. You crack it open and read:

“The growth will end on monday.”

Shivering, you begin to swim.


A new tree is born, a tree which grows down into the ground. Its little roots kick in the air shamefully. Cover it up! A new pair of trousers is being made specifically for this purpose. No perversion or nudity in this lane of traffic, please.


The ground wants to reach you but the sky is exempt.
A bridge along the path of ants opens…
Yes, the kingdom of the bugs is the place where the kind eclipse will reign!
If you stare hard enough the tendrils of your body will break
And the sponge will awaken.
Your time has come.


Bird clumps eat bread brains.

Steve Morrison

Eclipse Altar



Craig Wilson

Jeet Kun Plop
Finger has it
The last daze of wildfire
Hidden in the shadow of smoke

The nudist caravan flies through inner spaces
Of meteor showers and talking cats

Your body is just a passing breeze
Caught up in a flag
Like the dire obfuscation
Of a metallic ostrich


The neck bones of circumstance
Hyenas in Ladd’s Addition
Sun eaten by the moon
Behind the face of screaming grasshoppers
Your ship of sound poetry
Is a sled
To cross the world on a dare
To cry out like rain

It’s a haunted scene
On the vertebrae of an eclipse


Pink kingpins whisper slush fund secrets
And passwords
To the numinous world
Jammed inside a wind-chime
Like your slippery monster hair
Of puffins and ants

The far horizon slipped into my socks

Its anti-gravity foam
Is bursting from your skull underwear



By | 2017-08-24T01:28:35+00:00 August 23rd, 2017|Prose|0 Comments