1 poem
by frankie bb
frankie bb is a map of eyes that have yet to assemble into a crowd, a jaw bone that dislikes being called "mandible" and prefers "crescent catcher." A guilty harvester who believes milk is best served wild. Words in and forthcoming: No Contact Mag, The Lickety-Split, Club Plum Literary Journal, Maudlin House, X-R-A-Y Lit, bedfellows magazine, B l u s h Lit, and Witchcraft Mag.
Author's Note: This poem is for CAConrad, composed using CAConrad’s Somatic Poetry exercise number 5, available here.
Bottom Water
—Couch Buzzard Books, Greenwood WA
Fate squeezes
a makeshift kiss
into the blade
of marriage. I ask
what is a cream pie, really?
just another reheated meal
sneaking past
some parted lips,
mouth & anus shaped
with the same mucosa.
For my next trick
there will be tears
in my nudes,
a purpose I meant
to give mouth to
mouth to, until I could
zoom out and
speak to god or
my *real* ex about
grand things
like water bills or direct
deposit or the romance
section in an anatomy
textbook. How a seed hums
when tucked inside
an empty pocket of earth
filled
with direct sunlight
before god shakes
their dripping head
leaving me
to repeat myself, “I said it cus I meant it,
I meant it cus I screamed it.”