Three Poems by Peter Marra

Categories: ISSUE 01: Babe

Snake Eyes
the people next door
hang their mandalas
out on the porch
while their
tongues flick, spasming for
a new taste sensation.
one to keep themselves
occupied in the sacred space.
the people next door
hide the first communion missals
in the basement

wrap them in barbed wire
and anoint them with the aura of mildew,
reminding her of those prescription days.
she stopped taking medicine
days ago.
the overhead fluorescent
has a smell of skin,
(those prescription days
wistfully recalled)
she strokes her fur
for the delight of the people next door.

feeling the shock
something new for her fingers.
paralyzed nostalgia.
the tingle. the twist.
the magic number
on a gurney sliding in the midnight hour.we'll swerve and skate
a treacherous dance
at the end of the white hall.
the building is the property

of the people next door.
the stolen people are waiting
with descending faces,
slowing slow down.
she touches time's spiked collar.
something new for her fingers:
a tingle. look out a window
around the corner
licking poison-ivy. bebop rain.
she held a sea urchin in each palm.

a good surgery

O Typekey Divider

house of vivisection
a church burned down, she felt
better about her grief
better about the black sky
better about her slave-brain.
it was annihilated by moans
cracked into pieces
her vision was torn
and crushed under boots.

she was on the floor
out of god while
her fear exploded outwards

i felt the flush rush burn
from a high perch while
i saw her anatomy
emerging from the pool of the 13th century.

her back arched, she drooled
she was drenched
she dined on cadavers,
then we slept.
her after-hots made us smile.

we walked shakily
into the tight night
it was a tactile thing

O Typekey Divider

A Lachrymal Synod
She'll ride to Coney Island
Then she'll ride back
Turn around once more
Arriving at twilight when
The blinds are drawn and
The rides are shut down
Synthetic fractures - a brain cruising mind
She enters kneeling and ascendant

Where the blinds watch attentively
Crawling on hands and knees
Stop action motion in front of them
Slowly she mouths words asking for forgiveness
Arteries bared by the past
Etched trails aurora facial
Frown then changing to smile
When she pulls out the straight razor

Born from purple vulva
Scraping past the teeth of the labia
A teasing
Draws their blood slowly
Gives them the gift of sight slowly
Mouths words that beg forgiveness slowly
Listens to scratchy vinyl music on a close-n-play
"i have something to show all of you"

Sublimations are taking hold
While shattering the hit 45's
Quickly tiny things
Exit the blind peripheral
Subjects
Enter thorough her
Outstretched palms
An experiment

--Poems by Peter Marra