Morning!
It’s almost Friday.
Shit. Why isn’t it Friday yet?
The wonderful Juliet Cook sent word that the new flock of Thirteen Myna Birds arrived with the dark last night. I have four little birds (Antumbra, Flirting with Disaster, The Right Ones & Fire Sale) flapping doggedly in there. They’re four birds I really struggled raising–and look Ma!–now they’re all grown up and flown the coop.
Here’s Juliet’s snippets for July’s flock, which features poems by Jocelyn Mosman, Kristen Williamson, Lorraine Cipriano, Joseph Robert, and John Thomas Allen:
“a seesaw of cracked tilt – a powerpoint of your life – being shattered, exposed – little flickers of yourself – shirtless and hanging upside down – body swaying an unwelcomed dance – I almost wanted to trace it with my tongue – around the vehicle’s underbelly – crushing her notion of truth – and the shattered windshield – syllabuses melt in sheet music – that body’s sexy enough in this light…”
Head on over to Thirteen Myna Birds and get to reading.
-A.S. Coomer
Categories: Literature, Poetry
A.S. Coomer 