Paraclete

Photography by Rakesh JV


Your verdict heard from the throne
Earth stops still, You are known
The sun burns, the meek remain
Days die in celestial rain Read More

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Ignite

Amaya, 2007

You who have lived many layers of lifetimes overlying just one body. The serious kid who took pride in her father — and her mother, for granted. The college girl with once a head of “dreamy blonde” highlights who spent her restaurant paycheck on $220 Versace sunglasses, a tank of gas, and a bottle of Bordeaux. The fervent penitent who sought God within church walls… Read More

Medicinal

Painting by Rachael Errington

Dendritic lies spread like an unearned ovation
Poisoning mankind’s body and hopeful expectation
Tasting metallic of both euthanasia and revelation
Atomic love and remorse in equal parts for expiation
A deadly sweet catalyst of symbiotic relation
When is amanita Happy Hour for cellular sedation? Read More

Our Sins

Photography by Manuel Libres Librodo Jr.

We like miracles because they are now,

Not because they are from God.

We use God’s love because it serves us well,

Forgetting that without it, we would be dead.

We watch our loved ones sleep

And pray to God they do his will

And then grow afraid of his will.

There lacks congruence in what we Read More

Past

Mixed media drawing by Carne Griffiths

The exhaustion cuts, shards-of-broken-mirror style, contusions in the psyche realizing there have been twenty-eight jobs in fourteen years since I started my first at age fifteen. (To Joshua’s twenty-three since sixteen.) My mind experiences it most acutely, always trying so hard just to pay rent and maybe eat something, and of course the incessant criticism that chides, “And you’re glorifying God, how exactly?” Then the body manifests the fatigue, and at last the spirit gives in. And I’m not even counting the nights at Ralph’s in Costa Mesa where he would take glamour shots for eighty bucks, or making aspen bar stools and scattering the wood shavings in the forest, or dealing Texas Hold’em Read More

Gilt Indigo Lips

Painting by Jarek “Khaal” Kubicki

What happens when you see no end
To the blues and faraway song, your only friend
And there’s no sheep in your flock to tend
And you try to play but it hurts to pretend
Ain’t nothin fallin down to amend
Cuz you’ve made yourself able to bend
All the way to the ground
Because it’s all turned all around
You think down is up and up, a playground
Where lost children go to be found
By open arms and lips that make not a sound
But the kisses that say, ‘how bout another round?’ Read More

Uncarving Lines

spilled-food-art-giulia-bernardelli-36

Art by Giulia Bernardelli

Reading Crime and Punishment in the dark and wet rural Chinese winter and Joshua got sick with a fever on the border town.  Wanting to kill the nihilist prick, “Rodya,” I explored the streets alone and brought back a paper bowl of noodles.  The inherent problem with writing is that it delineates thought and action.  Can we write and free ourselves from further categorization, further erring by playing tricks that depend on the duality illusion? Read More