ABOUT

CONTENTS

EDITORIAL

ARCHIVE

LAGNIAPPE

MAST

SUBMISSIONS

Six Poems
by Emily Kendal Frey



IMAGINARY BIRD

Dear Jalapeno,
Dear Shoal,
Dear Shoulders—
If I could gift
Prague or a plum pit.
If I willowed.
If the fire hadn't.
If Legos and mold.
If I threw with
better aim.
Dear Grasp,
Dear Garner,
Dear Daughter—
In the photograph
we overlap slightly.
In retrospect
light does not
touch anything.
Dear Tantrum,
Dear Blanket,
Dear Buried,
Dear Nickname—
Mouth, mouth, mouth.
Mouse, mouse, mouse.

IMAGINARY HATE

Dear Jalapeno,
Dear Line,
Dear Time—
Horns bruising
their heads. Desire brushing
its hair. Whatever
matters, tends to matter.
Dear Public Restroom—
Tick-dusted ankles.
Steps back
along the golf course.
Dear Magazine,
Every time you bleed
I start to leave.
Dear Voice,
The clouds shred themselves
like blown out tires
along the skyline.


IMAGINARY THOUGHT

Dear Jalapeno,
Dear Do-Over—
A mirrored hall makes
a face a scar.
The town we drove through
and its red doors.
We argue in the
shape of salt
shakers. He watches me
cross the street.
You constantly cross
over, he says later.
Dear Seven,
Dear Drop-in-the-Bucket—
Sawdust blasts
my underpants.
I use words as
dance moves.
Dear Abuse of Power,
Dear Shower—
Courage blows past.
Because he is bald
he's easily recognized.
Like Jesus. Or a stamp.


HERS

Dear Jalapeno,
Nothing matters more
than horses.
No deck leans out
over a vague ocean.
No earplug. No blonde.
Zipped in the never
sleeping bag.
Thump me, Dear Dryer.
To the death,
Dear Forgiveness.
To the fish tank.
To the skin on your
spine trench.
Food for dark plants.
Twin to the miracle,
Dear Sailor.
I flutter,
Dear Sundown,
Dear Lurch.
Dear Bat.

HERE COMES ONE

Dear Jalapeno,
Dear Overdraft—
Comparable to nothing,
a sneeze is a rib sailor.
Taken from twosomes,
the neck is a cast.
Dear Honor,
Dear Velcro,
I should've left you
sleeping. You tore
the top from the
morning like
a conquistador.
Dear Belly,
Dear Bully,
Dear Pay by the Hour,
Dear Color,
Dear Never—
I'm listening.


FIND A WAY

Dear Jalapeno,
Dear Sliver—
Roll me over.
Tuck the untouched
parts in the crease
of the mirror.
Dear Fire Ant,
Dear Shovel,
Dear Best
Attempt—
The bones at the center
itch a path
to the schoolhouse.
Covered in Sundays,
they rollerskate
past. Dear Rant,
Where's the tent?
Dear Nightgown,
Dear Instrument,
Dear Volcano—
Every move you make
is the blink
of a cursor.