Monday, November 16, 2009

by Kaitlin


























Crochet Guerrillas - by Kaitlin


We scoot in at sundown,
flashlights in our teeth,
to wrap chill metal
in a pre-measured cuff of wild warmth,
whipstitching up the side to secure,
snip-snip
top it with Mae's freaky failed glove,
and shrieking with glee
we pound around the corner
to Jamie's waiting Jetta,
squealing
laughing
gone.

Softening the urban landscape
one cold post
at a time.


Sunday, November 8, 2009

by Javier


















Last Laugh - by Javier

You taunt me, sukka
from away over there
on the sidewalk.

You think it's funny?
You think I look crazy
with mold and leaking dying juices?
Step closer, sukka.

Step closer, I'll tell you
what it means to laugh
at the only jack-o-lantern
left on the street.

Closer.

I'll breathe my putrification on you,
you laugh at me.

Your skin starts to peel
your nose will melt down
alongside your mouth,
blackening teeth,
jawbone exposed,
goop running south from your eye sockets...

Alright get outta here
before I bite your ankles.

Sukka.

Monday, November 2, 2009

by Thalia

Influenza has rendered me imaginationless for the moment.

Tune in soon for more from the voices, who are suspiciously waiting patiently in line for the virus to finish its dirty work...