Ataraxia Vol. 11
description
Transcript of Ataraxia Vol. 11
selected literature with illustrations
Ataraxia
Vol. 11 • July/201 5
selected literature with illustrations
a culmination ofbattles decided by superior
numbers
by Mark Young
The River Thames allows
one to retain a favorite
flavor of instant noodle
but insists on sticking
solar panels to its bridges
to take advantage of
any anthemic song
that might happen by.
Good clinical dentistry
is no longer enough—
too many cranberries!
untitled
by Fahad Baseer
Occasionally
A boombox hangs from the ceil ing
of a tunnel. Behind Rob’s house
I walked through it once on a run
I don’t remember his cat’s name
It was one of many found dead
We all knew, but kept our mouths
shut. Didn’t talk about cat related
nouns. Boombox. Painted using
stolen paint marker. I t was gold
or si lver. Through the static shined
emerged. Arrived Rob. Sti l l .
Sti l ler than voices with bodies
could ever aim to achieve. Sti l l
Sti l l searching for that cat. He
emerged. Arrived with al l knowledge
of what went on in his house without
him. The house in which someone
carved on the plaster. where 666
used to be. The rants are now
broken pieces of a house. Some
framed. Some kept and forgotten.
There were also drawings there.
The plaster could cover up the punch
but not the idea behind it
so I carved. Eat this house.
Not while I was there
and sometime before the emergence
The house ate itself
The golf course dried up
Hanging from the ceil ing
painted haphazardly.
before ranting/scratching/drawing on the wall
before having no self left to paint
you painted yourself on Casio Canvas
Hanging from the only thing left
from the youth of many
emitting sl ices of the idea of
a dead friend. There are perhaps
Bird feeders for even the most complicated
occasions
Memorial Day
by Jul ie Davis
the other night
when the shadow of the guitar
smeared on that fake pup’s face
made the real pup jealous
and anxious
grass stains on my lips
l ittle cuts
whistl in up and down
tan, pink, purple, red, black
white and blue
mega color bubbles and
old biscuits and ½ beers
on our tongues
on the floor
on you
slick, sl ip down the hil l
step over chess and strangers
lunge forward
( 3 ) EATING
by Zachary Scott Hamilton
Face the symmetrical furniture, the chandeliers, the jacket, the
green, neon clock. The angel Auriel makes sure of the favorite
pair of color swatch eyes, the best way to the nose, wakes
eating cakes in an identical Wednesday, dancing on the sl ides
with a hundred years in a letter to the post office, or over a
week, so galactic.
I am curious, humane, sheltered in scarves. I have grown a lot
of wings from maple, and friends in New York. I even found a
place for the past, and I wil l have a healthy fear of you who
jangle your keys next to the passage in twil ight. I join
handmade letters from cardboard, kiss under heavens, float to
shore, as Zachary.
268
by Harrison Parks
she wears black tees emblazoned with slogans--
'l ie down i think i love you, ' and other
call ings for our l ips to tease and play--
coy expressions; one is a challenge to hurry up &
get in her past. bright minds l ike hers inevitably
burn through people to find truth in flame.
gladly, i am kindl ing for her fire's mise en place.
no regrets--save that we don't trick ourselves
as many can to prolong it. though i am no
stranger to cynics, somehow i cannot yet
relegate her and me to that quick inferno;
we burn through a city; through sister cities;
fuck, we consume nations.
al l the tricks one needs to be led to
paradise are in her repertoire. it has been a day
or two and she already is a second sight.
unl ike most, she masters every sense.
we both need little affirmation. obviously,
this time-frame speaks to foolishness but
instinct quickly knows where it ought,
needs to be led. forces of nature fal l into place
without dawdling. the words marked here
i can postpone so she won't know of them
unti l marks of time or bruises she leaves ebb
away fear. we incubate. soon is soon enough.
soon is eternal ly far away; soon is the future
that has become our muse. we are consumed by soon
and burn sacrifices from her admirers; though i am
her chief admirer and i shal l always burn brighter.
someday, men may topple her monuments.
these words remain eternal.