Issue Two: Mickey J. Corrigan

Everywhere Sea and Sky

Today’s ocean rough-handed,

you could use a bigger boat

in such a hurl of crushing surf.

A posed nonchalance

and you swamp

while paying homage

to other things.

You are a wreck

waiting for whatever

comes to you now.

Above you, fast clouds

sail across the yellow moon,

wild

in an enormous hostile sky.

Somehow you wash up,

sand sticky on your palms.

The tiny island suits you.

Coconuts fall, break open.

Lime-hued parrots in troops,

downshift

squawking,

onto sea grape branches.

The flock’s overcrowded

cranky, but as one.

Later they explode

in a black thunder

of winter crows,

transformed

while you looked elsewhere.

 

You are immersed in harsh,

violent metaphors

for your own life.

Squeezed by circumstance,

then scattered

catapulted so casually

to a distant shore.

 

Until Death

When the wound blooms

flowering into its own body

and you enter it,

enter into the hurt

No longer moving ahead

slowly

like blood

through a straw

You surge at full blush

squirt yourself around

feeling every lost corpuscle

as it oozes out of you

feeling every blued bruise

as it wells and pools

on your hot flesh

This is what I mean

about pain and orgasm

we suffer together

interconnected

chain links

in the chokehold collar

holding you fast

to me,

to this raw scrape earth

 

we drag ourselves across

until we are planted

six feet below

the rest of them,

all the walking wounded.

 

Opening

At the cemetery gate,

in the crowded café:

a face like a daisy in bloom.

This is a person. She is

not yet white credits,

blackness.

Your catharsis bleeds through her

easy,

like sunlight or sweat.

In the obligatory night scene

violence follows harsh-lit love-

making, flesh smacking flesh.

The audience waits for this.

She gives them what they want.

This is a person. She is

not who you

not who they

imagine.

This is beauty,

petals bright as summer,

weeping pollen

dusting us

bystanders, voyeurs

party to a brief moment

 

of blush, inevitable fade.

 

Mickey J. Corrigan writes pulp fiction, literary romance, and psychological thrillers. Recent books include the neo-noir satire The Blow Offand the crime caper Ex-Treme Measures from The Wild Rose Press, and the literary thriller Songs of the Maniacs from Salt in the UK. Poetry and short fiction have appeared in Akashic Books, ELJ Publications, Big Pulp, Flash: The International Short-Short Story Magazine, Deep Water Literary, and elsewhere. Salt will release her new novel in 2017. Visit at www.mickeyjcorrigan.com or on tumblr: http://mickeyjcorrigan.tumblr.com/.

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