Inauguration | Victor Fein

A family of vipers lying in grass innocuous to look at letting people pass. A family of vipers watching each shift gimlet eyed attention waiting for a rift. A family of vipers hiding in menace flashing of forked tongue enjoying distress. A family of vipers closing in for kill a single deadly strike and watch…

For today’s post I point readers in the direction of Plume, Danny Lawless’s astonishing literary magazine. A recent issue features three poems by Nicole Cooley, all entitled “Trash” and all dealing with mothers and daughters and complicated loss. Here’s one: Trash I have no wanting, I text to myself. Which terrifies me. I circle the…

Mayhem and there is no grieving no party we are relaxed sleep and snore and wave flags of gesticulation. The victory drowns in voices of dead and hammerings of the heart. A cap, a pant a pajama are emboldened symbols of death vanquished. The post Death Vanquished | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best…

Contempt in a shaded gray virtuous omnipotent pinks rally through the green ivy vines of feted consciousness. Vanilla violet paths follow the blood-red rivers while blue-black chambers ignite white flying herds of nerds. Preposterous nerves on fire, graciously curtsy to a queen of tangerine smiles all the while kicking a yellow ball of dreams. I’m…

The Waste Land: Five Limericks I In April one seldom feels cheerful; Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful; Clairvoyantes distress me, Commuters depress me– Met Stetson and gave him an earful. II She sat on a mighty fine chair, Sparks flew as she tidied her hair; She asks many questions, I make few…

With no sound but tiny bells tinkling on an empty platform in the middle of nowhereand a model train silently moving towards a station there,the only waiting passenger listens to tiny bells tinkling on an empty platform in the middle of nowhereand a model train silently moving towards a station there. 6.20 pm.With no sound…