PUNK POETRY: Everything That Happened in July by Raphael Emmae

Everything That Happened in July


Trips down hutongs and a streak of green

peeling paint on the dumpster.

Rust eat through once-blue tricycles 


like a mess of rot-pink tentacles 

trembling, an octopus drowning

in its tank at the seafood market.


A glass sheet of fog and beer bottle

green air. Suffocate. Oxygen is overrated 

when you're at the bottom of a bathtub


filled with phantom coloured water, puddles 

in the middle of your neighbourhood's

rain glazed main street, mosquitoes dipping


their feet in your sweat. The summer 

is dragging on like a dash of blackberry lipstick 

smeared across your own sun bleached sweatshirt


and the bathroom mirror where you kissed

it when shaving your head. Your hair 

won't grow back before September


and you know it, but that is a problem

for your body's next tenant in two months time

and this weekend is for cheap lukewarm wine 


stolen under no stars and watching plants die

on your balcony, lungs filled with clouds of moths,

paper crowned king of your local street light galaxy. 


--Raphael Emmae 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

EDITOR'S NOTE: Something Old, Something New (aka WE'RE OPEN FOR REVIEW REQUESTS)

Hey, pals!  Due to an incredible influx of acceptances (we're stacked for pubs until AUGUST), we had to temporarily shut our doors.  I am delighted to announce we are again  OPEN FOR SUBMISSIONS !  We've updated our guidelines; please read thoroughly before sending your awesome words/art/whatever.  AND!!!!  I am VERY excited to announce a new branch of the magazine!  For the first time, Punk Monk is open to review requests!  We will be reviewing books, collections, novellas, chapbooks, and microchaps. (Fiction, poetry, non-fiction, art, hybrid, ANYTHING accepted.) Our aim is to publish 1-4 reviews a month.   All reviews will be written by me, C.E. Hoffman .  This has been a long time coming, inspired by my personal frustrations seeking cool alt lit spaces that accept ARCs for review.  Many mags accept pre-written reviews, but won't review works in-house. This creates an unfortunate barrier for authors trying to promote their work....
Read more

If I Had A Son, I Would Teach Him About Evolution

I bled through the crotch of my pants and the Wonder Woman underwear I bought two and a half years ago on sale at Target while eating chocolate chip cookies in my bed. I put my hand between my thighs to wipe away the blood and realized, that God had once again decided to not put the embryo of Jesus Junior in my womb, leaving me free to continue reading blog posts tagged atheism. --Em Ramser
Read more

PUNK PROSE: Flick the Clipper, Write for Ten, Eat Some Doritos, Fall Asleep and Dream of a Nicer Time by Lacey Cohen

  i like to say i’m not a poet and i still don’t think i am but it’s not because i don’t like poetry (which i still mostly don’t) but more likely because i’m afraid my words won’t be as good as they are when i write other things because when you write poetry every single word matters but when you write a story or a letter you’re able to think softer and hide behind a scene or a fake character that you say isn’t yourself but usually it is and you think the reader doesn’t know that so it’s less scary than writing ambiguous poetry i get some of my best ideas when i’m high and i can never write when i’m high because i can’t articulate the idea as well when i’m high but i know it’s still going to be one of my best because i’m high and, sidenote, i hate that people use the word ‘high’ in reference to all drugs because when i say i’m high i only ever mean pot but when i read certain stories there are characters who are also high but they did hard, scary, addictive drugs that i would neve...
Read more