THING 009 : CRASH

OMARI DOUGLIN

LUST CREAM AND DESIRE CRUST


Lust cream and desire crust–
Odilon Redon bust
I’ll admit to love when love amiss to me

because that’s when fear boils hot like stovetop modulations

I’ll emancipate my proclaimed right to gain if I know the less loss,
but I follow suite of a ghost who is a phantom of observation 

 

no more amputated manuscripts to follow
or sweety candy to swallow
just,
lust cream and desire crust

would you dine with dynamite with the certainty of a fun evening ?

sob stories are as useless as wet chalk

I draw on your face wit wet fingers and you say something like “swlick”

I never conformed although I played in the arena,
play in the arena but I still don’t conform because I can’t

and I no no boundaries,

and there’s nothing erect like respect

 

 

my suede shoes are like–

explode

just explode all out, all around

like overnight seasoning in a Ziplock bag.

Drip drip drag smears of glow halos,

what is the rhetoric for retina squeeze ?

cook sea moss to a jelly and ride with it in the heavenmobile 

 

 

dizzy feets memorabilia is what allowed me to moonwalk
over to–

 

Is it over two degrees when,
Is it over now ?
Is it over tomorrow ?
Is it over then ?
It it sorrow ?
Is it,
just lust cream and desire crust ?

 

A happy round smile
dipped in watercress brushes

piano atmos, to diagram blushes

NAN MOORE

PREPARATION FOR PHOTO CEREMONY, PRESIDENTIAL LIBRARY ST PETERSBURG


 

TIME WARRIORS

JESSICA WILSON

INKY


HANNAH REGEL

SMACK / HORSE CRAWL / ERROR BECOMES HER


 

SMACK

I took the day right in the eye
And clawed it into four walls
In the hours that fail at boredom
But body forth a net

Your bite featured
A birth place
Clicking through
To greet the floor

Smacking it out on that grease panel
Working up to bloom a threat
My hunger knuckle danced
Star-fuckery, blood heavy

Heaven, in your full-fat skull


HORSE CRAWL

It was shame that hoofed her first
And her heavy glass face
Crawling head fore into the carpet
Scattering night, small fires, etc.
The pattern of a human stain in November

Across the floor sat round cartoons of pride; bunnies
Bugs. Or legs dismembered
Yet as prop-poise
Women, they shine in pieces 

Reclining nude without a drink
Aside from the one that hangs permanent inside the head
Making her jaw so obtuse 

 

ERROR BECOMES HER

We beat the earth into the feet of dogs
By this, their skin was hardened artificially
Took their mobile phones and make-up places to be

We made them kneel on the floor, they had to drag themselves around like that
Their knees became the hard bases of their bodies
Because of their kneeling and it’s implications we had to discuss pronouns 

She. Gross how it squats in the blood
We change the locks
There is a lot of guilt about what we have done to the dogs

In their shame we lost our bearings
Or our error became them
There are ghosts of the dog violence everywhere 

We can no longer make love
For example:
I open my eyes when you are kissing me and you look full of trust like a dog

NAIMA KARLSSON

ULTRAVIOLET


ROBERT KAY

A NEW DAWN HAS BROKEN