by Chloe Elliott | Dec 18, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Untitled (1977). Oil on canvas, 19 x 16 inches. After Luchita Hurtado You’ve heard it said that sun ate into the black hills, cut the landscape into rag-cloth and tied the scraps together till all was light and skin. But there’s still the question of your wound,...
by Chloe Elliott | Dec 17, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The First Drop of Monsoon Rain They wait for the rain Looking up through hats Crisp shorts crack underneath soaked tops A yelp of mother and Flip-flops drag them back indoor Sun blows fire like a dragon and mocks Wind takes a different turn and mock back Stifling sun...
by Chloe Elliott | Dec 16, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Greek Beach Brighter than a full moon on the sea, their acetylene torches cut the night. Scrapped hulls scream as they’re born again. Masked men tear wrecks they joyrode ten years back, cut up truck hoods and corrugated sheets, hammer spent shell cases,...
by Chloe Elliott | Dec 15, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Amalgamation I’m sitting on the train with you and I’m telling you about my new job. You wouldn’t believe it, I tell you, I’ve fasted for days and pledged my celibacy and still god is no where nearer than he was before. I tell you about the children and how they blow...
by Chloe Elliott | Dec 14, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
All My Friends Are Getting Sick Resisting arrest within six-sided isolation channels neatly stacked. All flesh is woodworked; index finger to thumb pinched in gluey press Blister pack resentment, as gospel song, as holy hands conjure heavy touch. Our future a...
