Junkyard Circus words by Max Leesillustration by Jennifer Fong-Li It begins with a silence beneath the tinted sky where only a word or two tumble out a slot in the door and risk being lost in the wind. Deadbeats wander and pick through immature mountains of debris, old books and warped jeans piled on […]
petersburg words by Gillian Chapmanillustration by Sharada Mujumdar here it comes— the edges of my frail mind falter and fade. dreadful closet walls, dirty and mangled, sick yellow paper, turn, twist, tighten, swallow whole. through the dingy apartment esophagus i am thrown into the stomach of the street suffocating summer sweat like swirling bile. in the
She let me hit it because I’m goofy… She let you hit it because you followed my authoritative list: She’s wonking on my willy ‘til I chocolate factory She’s doofen on my shmirtz ‘til I incorporate her evil She’s robbing on my barts ‘til I comm She’s cranning on my berry ‘til I juice She’s
An Authoritative List Read More »
to catch a bus in its natural habitat, you must stay alert and aware. these are fickle, erratic beasts, ostensibly diurnal, occasionally nocturnal, their migration patterns known to be predictably unpredictable. despite their size, they are relatively docile creatures—a disposition which has led to the slow erosion of their position in the food chain. competition
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li Lumpy yogurt, oh so sour Winter’s chill, we must endure In the recycling bin, a cookie crumbles Cilantro sprouts on the farm, humbles But in the cliché camp of love Two male peacocks soar above Their feathers dance, their hearts ablaze Filibustered by society’s ways If Rupi Kaur
Oh to be Lumpy Yogurt on a Bright Winter Day Read More »
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li I am not asking for much— A kiss on the cheek, a whisper of a secret. Perhaps I am the Devil’s daughter— Lust drunk and excruciating on all dimensions but one. I am demonic with angelic tendencies. I am feather light and pretty—the blue eyed kind. The favourite grandchild, if
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li The ballads boast of my senseless rage, of wailing mothers and tortured breaths, of corpse-littered fields painted crimson red, But the poets never mention you in their songs, my love, you, who held my trembling warrior heart in your hands, you, who would lull away the soldier’s angry wounds and
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Haze By Zoe Crepp Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li There’s some kind of mask covering your face, But I can see that bright flush creeping beneath the powder When I tell you where I think we should go. Those baby doll eyes, all droopy 1930s— Complete with mascara-darkened lashes, batting themselves at me, And that pouty
Nesting By Sam Rosati Martin Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li Watch my eyes shimmer —in the ice with you. —I want your song, your singing. Turn the sun off, tenderize [me], lay your voices on my stomach. Feed me branches and twigs— splinters— I have been abandoned by an owl who left plastic
GROCERIES By Sophie van Dalen Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li – Kale – Pears – Yoghurt – Bananas – Carrots – Hummus – Rice cakes – Almond butter – Cannellini beans – Trying to remember what it used to be like – Walking down the aisles – With happy hunger – Your hand holding mine –
