Literary Orphans

Hagiographies of the Descendants of the Deaf, Dumb and Blind by Peter Marra [STAFF]

night train_by_el_karamelo-d6wmhhk

lesion 1:

whitewashed air under sun that cries, a symptom of unrequited love for the b & w drawings of lonely sisters that never respond back. it’s a bare stage on a cracked concrete street where the blood vessels are pulsing from the secretive intravenous solutions administered earlier in the day at the county hospital. tired. scream. tired. tired. the glass has been broken and the blades of the knives have been sharpened.

 

a chastity/a murder

a keyhole to her heart

frenzy/ whispering vulgarity

trussed up and blindfolded in the

Victorian splendor of cyberspace

heat within

a position previously held by vipers

the land has changed.

fuckers dream.

 

lesion 2:

trussed up and blindfolded where all butterflies experience falling, while she videos the bar patrons and the boiling heat of her love, the Luna Moth is a mother

not afraid of madness higher than the gods without stimulation. sirens removed flesh and fashioned corsets to wear to the diner, then ordered the blue plate special with gore on the side while their voices replaced Muzak.

 

24 fragments. 24 scaly wings per second,

found under wet sounds that always catch attention,

compiled under artificial light,

with the traveling pussy in a bucket of nighttime.

 

a fresh mouthful of lightning was stored in the shadowbox.

(mutual friends saw it happen

they’re dead now)

 

lesion 3:

cunt blossoms spin changing angles between the bodies using the upper part of their antennae to grab ultrasound in time passing, her hands up the blouse,

as she twirled the knobs of the infernal sound machine. a light zigzag pleasure

boosted high the shrillness causing the audiences’ ears to bleed as patrons poked

pencils in their eardrums to seek the solace of deafness. a city black-voided, gaped and squirming, in night with no end. a city that exists only over there and

disappears when touched by eyes of ebony turned upwards toward the birds of blood. repetitive climax happened, it became addictive.

 

gagging on milk dripping

over white lips iconic moans,

captured on vinyl then released over the airwaves,

commented upon by hanged peeping toms,

now on display in the mermaid trap.

 

She makes her living appearing as

a witness for sexual acts

just her signature is required.

no testimony,

tongue removed.

 

lesion 4:

in the last room of the motor lodge, where she burned her clothing, her last attempt to confirm her free will occurred. night bastards were sleeping under

the dripping sunbeams of infernal memories sporadic and calm. an incoherent mumble of purity killed, the clamps extracting, practically every breath coming quickly, from the inherited shapes of the human categories of the imagination.

 

(addicted to the false Maria robot double)

the mirror was in her mouth,

the shadows were reduced to knives at

the moment of orgasm.

 

replaced by a strange feeling:

absence of green things

growing blinking

at the one who had the most intense sexual value to others,

and only pleasure remained.

 

lesion 5:

the halls carried odors of mildew blood and scum. the floor was littered with chips of institutional green paint. colors she loathed no flowers, no room, no touch. in the center of the next room, seen through a haze of dust that pulsated in dirty sunlight, were three lucite and chrome salon chair hairdryers, seats and hoods long unused.

 

a copy of a copy of her with me

was carried for a long distance then

locked in a glass tank.

showers of dopamine and endorphins rushed,

she constructed a statue of her past loves

and when done, bathed it in acid.

 

just

sinned

again.

 

O Typekey Divider

A native New Yorker, Peter continues to reside in New York City.

His earliest recollection of the writing process is, as a 1st grader, creating a children’s book with illustrations. The only memory he has of this project is a page that contained a crayon drawing of an airplane caught in a storm. The caption read: “The people are on a plane. It is going to crash. They are very scared.” A Dadaist and Surrealist, Peter Marra’s writings explore alienation, addiction, love, secrets, and obsessions. He has had over 200 poems published either in print or online in over 25 journals. Peter’s latest published work is

approximate lovers (downtown materialaktion) published by Bone Orchard  Press:

(http://boneorchardpress.blogspot.com/2014/04/approximate-lovers-downtown.html)

Peter’s e-chapbook Sins of the Go-Go Girls, was published in 2013 by Why Vandalism? Press:
http://journal.whyvandalism.com/sins-of-the-go-go-girls.html

peep-o-rama available as a Kindle Edition at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Peep-O-Rama-Peter…/dp/B00GVM4QQU

Peter Marra

O Typekey Divider

–Art by Karamelo

–Art by Mariya Petrova-Existencia

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