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 Jan 2017 CK Eternity
King Panda
rain
little girl
rain with
hair
rain until
the sun chokes
rain with
your dis-attuned nails
rain
running Pisces through
my head
rain
another word called
rain for
some mallards
rain on
boy
rain
rabid 90’s hip hop
we listen while driving
to the theatre
rain pounding
in the car
in the eyes
rain
the sky seems to
penetrate
my car’s roof
and this poem
breaks through
water uprising
your grey hat
your almonds
and my chin
rain
I wish I could make it
for you
nightingale
I wish I could hear your
breath
in the morning
 Jan 2017 CK Eternity
Stacie Lynn
the first time you broke my heart felt like every molecule in my body had been shaken like a carbonated drink inside a plastic bottle, containing the catastrophe and sheltering the insanity as if it were a home. i could not let anyone know how close i was to exploding, i could not be weak.
i walked around daily, replaying memories we had against the backs of my eyelids like a projector against a cement wall
i played it over and over until my stomach overflowed with churning bile, wanting to eject the inauthenticity of nostalgia
while watching i would try to make meaning of the dialogue, and you, being it’s main featured character
i made you out to be the hero but you were the villain, you destroyed the plot, you slaughtered the character’s lives, yet you were such a deceivingly good actor
have you ever heard something so many times that you started to go insane?
words can hit you so hard they start to feel like they’ve been carved into your brain, able to be sounded like keys on an everlasting piano, one note insisting for another to play along with it
but you’re not a song that i want to listen to anymore

the second time you broke my heart, i had it coming
i told myself this was it
every time i watched you blink i watched the doors to your soul close
have you ever let anyone in?
every kiss enabled another voice in my head telling me goodbye
but the best part about me letting you into my heart for a second time was that it didn’t really break
what i thought was my chest ripping open, withdrawing blood vessels and vitals, was really the nerves in my body connecting again, i can feel again
i can feel again
i am healing and here months later,
stitched up and intact
you can’t hurt me anymore
 Jan 2017 CK Eternity
Lottie
.
 Jan 2017 CK Eternity
Lottie
.
There's a tiredness in my bones that runs deeper than my ability to think. I am tired of this life, of living for the others I am driven to love. They are difficult. I am exhausted.
i.

under a flaming bridge
blue islands,
sky-stream of
light, as the tranquil
waters unfold,
dream of
visionary seers
and haunted rooms.

gold sun running
like a tide,
pads of echoing cloud,
reflections like
mirrors on
the hollowy
water.

ii.

oil on canvas
pond of daydream,
water wrapped in love
and flower.

sunken, bird of grey
wire, fallen stone,
rippling ghost.

iii.

flower of ghost,
ink lady of sapphire
melting and sinking
like lanterns
in a chine,
where the night
wanders and the stars
lean against the sky.

iv.

watery isle,
rivery summer golds,
trembling pond,
flower of the dragonfly
flower of white sun.

v.

shadows in the leaves
monet fire of gold,
strange indigos,
violet sky,
water-dragon of the pond
water-dragon of the flowers.
when we found him barefoot in mid-july
he was standing on a four-day drunk
tap-dancing in shoe-horn colored chinos
rolled up to his cyclist's calves on the
sun-punched hood of an '04 nissan altima
with shot-out windows salt
in his skin hair & eyelashes
silver bubbling spittle clung
at the corners of his mouth
sparkling dry in the sun-heat

he laughed & said she had a mouth
like a grizzly bear or cheese grater
she was thin-shouldered dressed
in a curtain-and-couch-cushion ensemble
had yellow button callouses on her palms
& lacked the instinctive manipulative prowess
other girls her age possessed
the whole performance only lasted
7 minutes huddled in a bedroom closet
in a blathering forest of unkind giggles
he still has acid flashbacks watching
cutthroat kitchen because she had
alton brown's teeth & tonsils like spun glass

that night he was a heathen
on a mountian made of mandolin
stiff yearbook spines & shoeboxes
full of faded polaroid mementos
he was tank-topped but still sweating
as he stumbled & stood
on black stilettos & soiled blue
cork-soled wedges like
sharp rocks dancing underfoot
dodging the mothball heat-trap
of cotton blend blouses
& corduroy coats overhead

joy division warbled slimy through
the white wooden slats of the closet's pocket door
as she knelt demurely &
took it between her thumb & finger
brought it up to thin lips pursed
above cleft chin & ****** it in
like a big thick j-bird
but she never exhaled the expectant
white plume of smoke he said
when she grabbed ***** as they
swung like pendula below his navel
he almost pulled out a swath
of her honeynut hair
his injured impatient breath
cracked like thunder
in the cashmere sky
above her undulating head

when the mighty chasm fountain exploded
she said he was the flavor of a blue sky burning
her throat sounded shallow & grunty
as she spat him out into a pair
of her favorite aunt's imitation
jimmy choo pumps &
enjoyed a brief nosebleed

when it was over finally he forced a sympathetic
fistful of tramadol down his saharan throat
& tried to stay hidden under the tarpaulin
in the moving blackness wandering alone
through the waning moon's ceaseless maze
behind the perfumed aphasia that kept him high
biting the brittle tassel of a graduation cap
like an adolescent ocelot
feeling like fleeing

& when i asked him
i said well these experiences probably
helped you build some character right

he laughed & assured me of the
isolated nature of this watercolor
snapshot event & said
one day david

he said maybe one day you'll
learn to not measure your self worth
against the traumatic mouth mistakes
your pants have made
my eyes were invisible
 Jan 2017 CK Eternity
KD Miller
on the train with grant
its cold
its white
sterility                              ok

ok   you cant hear anything when it snows
        and it isnt as cold

i cant see nyc but i looked for it

                   ok
i wanna quit and cry full time

i dont know x79,345  
                                i dont like when people  
                                   watch me write
it looks like its cold but
it (?) why                                     that was a test. i dont care
isnt cold                         ok

it is cloudless ok they laughed kind of
ok
im dumb it snowed we have two hours

i have to finish my story about rich people

ok oooooook
 Jan 2017 CK Eternity
KD Miller
"said my muse to me,
'look in thy heart and write.'"
-Philip Sidney

1
"
i have a song to show you," i said in the late morning
but did not play it until eleven that night.
your eyes seemed blue when i met you
i realized they are green or maybe temperamental.
as the train swept past the neighborhoods and the forests
in between them
and the white delicate soot of the snow lifted in the air
for a second, or two or three
one couldn't see anything from the window
on one side, this
on the other, you
one ethereal
the other, just frozen rain

2
in the museum,
the serious straight lines of malevich stared me down
i walked towards the other side of the room
when i turned around, the back of your head
ash blonde and head tilted
i looked at the art, then the floor, then the white walls
you looking at your favorite painting
you implied it was an honor and
i touched your shoulder
and called you the prettiest thing here.
you smiled. it was just the truth.
i said i would see my favorite painting
but i don't know where it is
you told me, with a laugh,
you did not mind traveling
i later found out
Portrait of Maude Abrantes*
is in Haifa.

3
"where do we go?" you asked.
"good question. i don't know,"
figure out for yourself what i meant.
The subways were all closed
and only the 7 was running
who gives a **** about the 7? i'd always said
guess the joke was on me.
walking to the station, whichever one we could find
i looked up at you with snow dusted hair
and frostbitten hands
feeling something i hadn't felt in years
"let's hop on a train and get off wherever"
it took 15 minutes
but the D train rolled in
and up to 59th we went,
then the E down to west 14th.
We laughed at the incompetency of bureaucracy
and hopped from the train onto the platform,
watching the gap as we did.

4
there,
on west 14th
the Chelsea streets were wordless,
sleeping in on a saturday night
we walked past snowed in cars and i laughed at the
ridiculousness of it all
this is how badly i'd wanted to go to the city with you!
but i didn't mind
i walked a bit ahead
turned around
the beaux arts townhouses
on either side of us
strategically planned trees
and a pair of lost gloves
it was so quiet i couldn't hear my thoughts
just my heart's rhythm
in the station that night
you had told me you wished i had a place in brooklyn to go back to
"yeah, if we could even find a train that went there," i laughed.
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