regional terror and its last dream remaker
Madison Nash
There were all these portraits of me hung on the walls and they would dance on the frames,
the shadow people that spiritually strapped my body to the mattress.
There were all these portraits of me hung on the walls and they would dance on the frames,
the shadow people that spiritually strapped my body to the mattress.
There are two breeds of love in the world / but I forget what they are.
standing around in my underwear
in the kitchen Christmas Eve
journal entry #3
the birds ministered from tall pines
our eyes were
sites of excavation effaced by inner winters
went blind
amid the gorge the
See, I’m too stupid to write a poem.
Remember when I said this, that afternoon by the lake
in our purple & yellow short shorts,
Levi’s High
My moods as blue
as these lake hues
Ass still looks hot in this
double denim though,
so fuck yous
Swatting flies
On my thighs
in the desert
Amor
Bouchon
Steak
That’s when she asked me if you were still part of our family.
I watched the Fassbinder film.. half in English, half in German..
still, there was so much salt
in so many wounds
life got stuck under the wheels and desire’s language smacked into cliché, death came as Chet Baker crooning love, almost blue
I had a dream where
I found a way to look at your
Instagram through one of those hilarious
Nebulas
Dreams
Afford, wrapped tightly with a regal
the movement of our bodies had rubbed the edges of my right knee completely raw.
I want you to see this as romantic
A unneutered preteen breeze / loiters around the trees / this morning.
I am no longer interested in the world and know that it is not interested in me.
We started off as strangers,
you and I.
And I’ll always wonder -
if there had been others
would I have picked you?
Your brothers were already gone
by the time I got there
so I paid for
"I loved reading Exit, Carefully. It’s unusual, and in my opinion exciting, to publish a play without previously receiving a major production."
-Walker Caplan, Lithub