CURRENTS
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Five VasesThree poems called Love and one called Matador
Notes on Red Heart Emoji
Obscene Gaping Hole: A Review of Catherine Breillat’s Romance
Five works by Chloe Rees
horizontal business after e.e. cummings
Five exerpts from praxinscope
Okul Güzeli
Love In Chelsea
Tapestry Trials: An Interview with Rusty Janardan on Weaving
Memory of you, kiss me new in the spring pool It was pink, Yellow
I handed them
my virginity
jangling against
the fence
of a little league
baseball field.
Cunt like warm beer
that unwashed
incense-skunked
bastard.
Burly tits take me down
turf me. cupped
in their hands way beyond
the fucking. Years
later their gold Volvo
ferries me up a mountain
I was trapped in a waking movie
about a victim.
Could you smell it on me?
The virgin you palmed
was a knockoff
all those winters ago.
Love
Have I ever been so in love
with a shape?
A live photo
a 3 second heave of breath
the tattoo
under your chest hair anointed
with cum.
That unwieldy
thing
still hard
object of my
teary
attachment. Your face
is not in
the photo or
the drawing or
the second drawing white paint
smeared with
smitten middle finger. My darling cock.
Love
A motel room
my heart
has curtains
and cable
body: the bed
its stains
disappearing and reappearing
with sleepers
wet dream pressed against
spring.
Gasoline my vermin love.
Gasoline my gash.
Matador
BLUDGEON
IMPALE
ENOUGH ALREADY
3 DAYS BLOOD
RED ROPE
BALD BITCH
BALD DIVA
SELF-FORGETTING
I HAVE MOLLY, WANNA TAKE A BATH? KISS ME
WRIST KISS ME
I WON'T LET GO
UNTIL YOU KISS ME
HAHAHA
I BLOW
THE RED SCARF
THE RED DICK
MATADOR.
by Charlie Stuip