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@bombuspress
i am less in this body, more hitching a ride on the balloon whose string is now slipping off a hollow-boned wrist. i ribbon into shapes that fit through window screens. leave the room peppered with strange polygons / of light.
— Quinn Lui, from “Paperweight,” published in Bombus Press
Yashô (Japanese, 1782-1825), Bat in Flight, Ink on paper.
Issue Seven: Will-o’-the-Wisp is now live!
This issue is all about the transitory and the tightrope walk. There are a couple of mischievous sprites lurking at the corners of this issue waiting to reach out and grab you. We cannot promise you that it will lead you to safety, but we think you will enjoy the journey.
Check out the issue here.
slipping girl dripping girl girl with eyes like a city half past soaking girl with sadness so big it’s a second shadow girl with sadness so big it’s an inch away from goddamn tragic
— Topaz Winters, from “Undrowning,” poems for the sound of the sky before thunder
“‘I have been loved,’ she said, ‘by something strange, and it has forgotten me.’”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood
Issue Seven: Will-o’-the-Wisp is now live!
This issue is all about the transitory and the tightrope walk. There are a couple of mischievous sprites lurking at the corners of this issue waiting to reach out and grab you. We cannot promise you that it will lead you to safety, but we think you will enjoy the journey.
Check out the issue here.
“Something in her chest burns whenever she catches her eye…”
Merry Christmas Eve! You can read my latest flash fiction “Midnight Whispers” in Issue 7: Will-o’-the-wisp of @bombuspress here 🌓❤️
we are tired of our mothers crying our mothers are tired of being gods
— Zeina Hashem Beck, from “Escape,” published in wildness
Issue Seven: Will-o’-the-Wisp is now live!
This issue is all about the transitory and the tightrope walk. There are a couple of mischievous sprites lurking at the corners of this issue waiting to reach out and grab you. We cannot promise you that it will lead you to safety, but we think you will enjoy the journey.
Check out the issue here.
What do you call it when girls keep dying, what do you call it when your body is a zeppelin? How do you become something other than wounds?
— Brynne Rebele-Henry, from “Self-portrait as a broken Venus statuette,” Autobiography of a Wound
Artists of San Francisco Ballet
Act 2 of Giselle
credits: Amy Osborne
Issue Seven: Will-o’-the-Wisp is now live!
This issue is all about the transitory and the tightrope walk. There are a couple of mischievous sprites lurking at the corners of this issue waiting to reach out and grab you. We cannot promise you that it will lead you to safety, but we think you will enjoy the journey.
Check out the issue here.
Andy Goldsworthy (1956 - ) Winding Wall in Winter 1997/8
From Exposure by Wilfred Owen.
‘Baba Yaga and maiden birds’ by Ivan Bilibin (1902).
more animals have died from highways than from bullet wounds. it’s hunting season in my head again
from What The Roads Did, by Sean Glatch, published in Bombus Press (via foxgrasses)
Do you understand what brought you here? Was it the light or the absence of light? The man or what he did. There is a way to measure these things. A syntax. But once you have been touched you cannot be anything else.
-
from Syntax, by Reyna N. A., published in Bombus Press
