#fruita pulp

[outsidewarmafghans]

in mexico there is a high school named after my grandfather & what have i done with my life. flowers on the counter shriveling in summer heat.

i have two poems in the new issue of fruita pulp! this is from one called “slippage”

[fruitapulp-blog]

ANTARCTICA

by Sarah Bartlett

We finally find each other my body an elevator down In the center an axis stirs Morning skates across our faces If I had a rope ladder or a bridge If I weren’t so scared to reach out with gloves off I’d touch your face Good-bye has a special flavor peppermint and blood This is what tongues are made of Keep them inside words a permanent fixture in the dark Love a nonsensical addition a serial killer indiscriminate as snow

[bostonpoetryslam]

Light scattered over the pool all morning. I’m not gone but I’m going in now. See. You have to plummet toward the drain like a fruit pit to see what your god wants from you.

Lucy Tiven, “Centripetal Force,” published in Fruita Pulp

[cornonmacabre]

i have a poem (this poem, to be precise) in the new issue of fruita pulp. go take a look if you feel so inclined.

[fruitapulp-blog]

Fruita Pulp: Issue #9 May/June

[bostonpoetryslam]

I feel like no matter what I write, I could call it a love poem. Every poem I write comes out of love for SOMETHING, whether that’s my own body, my time here, the passage of terrible things, the passage of wonderful things, onward & onward perpetually.

Dalton Day, interviewed by Keegan Lester for Fruita Pulp

[bostonpoetryslam]

we are lucky to walk on our hind legs. to have houses, thumbs, gods to smite us when we’re particularly wicked. we are lucky to have eluded all predators, to flower past reason & back around to teething on our own bones.

Emily O’Neill, “affirmation for the damned,” published in Fruita Pulp

[viperslang]

from “Come, Palabara”

I have two poems in Fruita Pulp’s New Issue.