Arsenic Hour: my middle aged women troubles by Elisabeth Horan

This is the debut of Elisabeth Horan’s column, Arsenic Hour. Here is its namesake poem.     Here comes a bad one. Pearled teeth, gnarled hands, knife fingers, bomb breasts, snake limbs, tortoise pelvis, wolf anus, pronghorn genitals. Here comes the malfeasance. Ivory ban, fingernail grind, tusked cheeks, flat bill palette, five toes times five legs, monstrously amphibious, heat seeking whore platypus. Squat and jealous. Here comes the lady in red. Competitive. Hormone pinch hitter, estrogen wane, progesterone filler, wants things of testosterone nearby her; a dildo toy killer. Hypothyroid gets her best, statin spies through this fat girl’s dress. … Continue reading Arsenic Hour: my middle aged women troubles by Elisabeth Horan

Manifestos: A Prose Poem by Wes Bishop

“Who runs the world?” I ask because I have complaints. The little man tells me the box for such things is down the hall. I stumble, clutching my manifestos. If only the masses would read these typed blueprints for utopia then the world would work, because I am a mechanic for reality! I get to the box, but it is closed. The sign reads— UNDER CONSTRUCTION. SEE WEBSITE FOR DETAILS.   So, I tweet. I post. I comment and I yelp.   I set my phone to vibrate text alert so if anyone comments their digital voice will trip the … Continue reading Manifestos: A Prose Poem by Wes Bishop