"The bull of heaven crumbles."

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Issue 12: The Necessary Ear

Issue 11: The Necessary Eye

Issue 10: Out on a Limb

Issue 9: The Missing Body

Issue 8: The Lily

Issue 7: Passages

Issue 6: No More Tears

Jo Sarzotti

The Monotonous Sublime

War is a box of silk & dogs tipped, half-buried
In so many small horrors.

Paratroopers descend on the maroon of desert.
Dust storms spike an ocean of sand,

Heave & upwell, dip & pool
Scratched & scraped by a patient lithographer,

Everything imagined backward.
The horizon showing is too much brain

Showing, too much edge denuded of guilt.
It is erased, smoked out.

The bridge, too tall & although beautiful, weak,
Falls into a great river

Of god, an ancient crawl of damage & repose.
The hoof of a sphinx

Remains, an image of waiting.
The bull of heaven crumbles.

War lies like a psychopath, a gymnasium
Of sin, deanimalized & precise,

Working clock-like, seconds counted down to nothing --
Which is why we chose it.


Fairy Queen

The glamour is not entirely working,
Sticks of straw beneath my gown,
Hag lines spider out from the corners
Of my extravagantly painted eyes,
Still, I have courage.

The poet & I have differences,
She says her religion is velvet,
I say my mother was a horse,
It's the difference between covering the body
Beautifully. And being the body,
Mute & sweaty
In the long last heave of homestretch.

Still, the pen finds its way to my hand,
The white page fills with the ruins of my story,
The Girl With No Mother,
How does it go?