Punk Monk Press/Magazine

Steel-Toed Lipstick I paint my mouth red like a warning sign. Not for seduction— for survival. Every word I spit tastes like iron, and I like the weight of it. --Kate Torode

Crack and creak Lack bones slack jaw I move I scream Walk it’s agony Talk is dread Can’t reach Can’t wrap Six legs Walker and me Closer than skin Can’t stroll Can’t dance No way I can skip No grace My pronouns aren’t preferred I’m the cripkeeper Back slack Fractured crone Leave me alone. --Andie M

Zeitgeist You make it clear which lips you prefer I part Failure to see each set a work of art. Meaningless words. So. Many. Meaningless. Words. Where do they all go? HELLLOOOO... Oh, right, you can't even see me, you think I'm below, The audacity, fascinating to observe it freely flow, It really doesn't take long for your true colors to show, Speaking of flow, since you're so fucking thirsty how about you go water yourself for your mindset and a pair of actual fucking balls to grow. "I'm kidding"  "It was just a joke" "Can we please restart?" No. Blocked.  Because opened up and spread apart, Both sets could water you, nourish you and speak to you from the heart  But here we are instead, so, Fuck your joke and fuck you too, How they open up is all on you.  Falling into the void-But make it kinda cute I can feel myself disappearing again... The void siphoning me through the cracks It all happens so fast sometimes, I can hear the universe...