Back to Life – Aurora Phoenix

the Cat in the Hat

stands on his tail on my head

spinning his collection de chapeau

haute couture hats of many colors

juggles his among mine

and bouncy bouncy Tigger

fun fun fun

balances a plate

magically precarious

on a bent fork tine.

he cools my face

flapping fans from

dear old aunt Mace

who knew how to blow

hot and bold

or in from the cold

and out with the old.

the smoke he clears

spews forth from my ears

in lieu of frustrated tears

or as telltale exhaust

from over-cranked gears.

I have run full circle

full tilt, frenzied

down hill and up dale

past heaven and hell

beyond the pale

slurped from the mop bucket

of the devil’s woman char

constructed a chair lift

of regrets and resignation

on abyss’ frozen-flamed edge

pullied myself

through grim, in determination.

now I spin the hamster wheel

off the rails

of the status quo

crash the party

of who’s who and what’s what

and kick up my heels

dancing to a drum

off the beaten path.

I hear the voices in my head

testify

to my resurrection

I give them credence

and a ruby slippered

salute

Now at Liberty-A humorous break-up poem by Dorothy Parker

21510658-Cheerful-woman-talking-on-phone-at-desk-Stock-Photo-typewriter
Little white love, your way you’ve taken;
Now I am left alone, alone.
Little white love, my heart’s forsaken.
(Whom shall I get by telephone?)
Well do I know there’s no returning;
Once you go out, it’s done, it’s done.
All of my days are gray with yearning.
(Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.)

Little white love, perplexed and weary,
Sadly your banner fluttered down.
Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary.
(Which of the boys is still in town?)
Radiant and sure, you came a-flying;
Puzzled, you left on lagging feet.
Slow in my breast, my heart is dying.
(Nevertheless, a girl must eat.)

Little white love, I hailed you gladly;
Now I must wave you out of sight.
Ah, but you used me badly, badly.
(Who’d like to take me out tonight?)
All of the blundering words I’ve spoken,
Little white love, forgive, forgive.
Once you went out, my heart fell, broken.
(Nevertheless, a girl must live.)

Once-Introducing Scout McPain

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[“Powem” and picture by Scout McPain]

Once, sitting with a woman I was embarrassingly in love with, I’d felt something brush my elbow. Radiating through my body, waves of warmth and sunlight battered my internal world but left me sitting still. I looked over and these feelings drained out of me like a smashed bottle. I had been touching her bag.

[I don’t like writing bios, or telling people my age or name for that matter. Currently I enjoy spending days at a time outside, sharing music and words in the darkest and brightest places I can find. Presumably alive at the time of publishing,

Scout McPain]

SEVEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT VIRGINITY- Leah Mueller

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SEVEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT VIRGINITY by Leah Mueller, pictured.

1). A glass of milk sits on the table, untouched. Nobody wants to be the first to claim it, though everyone is thirsty. The milk is a big deal, but no one can explain why.

2). The young woman walks down the street a couple of blocks from her home, clutching books to her chest. A carload of men drives by and honks. She is ashamed of herself, even though they are the ones who are behaving like louts. She keeps her eyes on the road ahead of her, but she knows they’ll just drive around the block and return. Next time, they’ll be more insistent.

3). I always thought the whole concept of virginity was devoted to penis-worship. If you never had a penis inserted in your vagina, you were a virgin, even if you’d had orgasms from oral sex, even if someone had inserted his finger in there numerous times, even if you had rubbed against someone so hard that your entire body convulsed. But stick a penis in a vagina, suddenly it was a major deal.

4). The man moves towards the woman. She opens instantly. It’s one of those rare moments when both people want the same thing, and aren’t afraid to show it. Then they both wake up.

5). I have a dream in which I am a virgin again. I decide I don’t need sex to be happy, and that I will go through life as an artist who lives alone. My only contact with men will be through postal letters. I will have an endless parade of postal lovers, who will regale me with propositions that I will never accept, and this will secretly be a relief for them. I keep the letters in a box in the closet. The box swells until it finally bursts open at the seams.

6). A man went searching in the forest for his virginity. It had been eaten by animals a long time beforehand. One of the lions told him it was delicious. The man smiled, since he had been unaware of this.

7). I didn’t lose my virginity. I gave it up voluntarily, and I don’t want it back. If you try to return it to me, not only will there not be a reward, but I’ll never speak to you again. Go find someone else’s virginity. They’ve either been searching for it since they were born, or they never lost it in the first place.

[Leah Mueller is an independent writer from Tacoma, Washington. She is the author of one chapbook, “Queen of Dorksville”, and two full-length books, “Allergic to Everything” and “The Underside of the Snake.” Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Blunderbuss, Memoryhouse, Outlook Springs, Atticus Review, Sadie Girl Press, Origins Journal, Silver Birch Press, Cultured Vultures, Quail Bell, and many others. She was a featured poet at the 2015 New York Poetry Festival, and a runner-up in the 2012 Wergle Flomp Humor Poetry contest.]

Now at Liberty-A humorous break-up poem by Dorothy Parker

21510658-Cheerful-woman-talking-on-phone-at-desk-Stock-Photo-typewriter
Little white love, your way you’ve taken;
Now I am left alone, alone.
Little white love, my heart’s forsaken.
(Whom shall I get by telephone?)
Well do I know there’s no returning;
Once you go out, it’s done, it’s done.
All of my days are gray with yearning.
(Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.)

Little white love, perplexed and weary,
Sadly your banner fluttered down.
Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary.
(Which of the boys is still in town?)
Radiant and sure, you came a-flying;
Puzzled, you left on lagging feet.
Slow in my breast, my heart is dying.
(Nevertheless, a girl must eat.)

Little white love, I hailed you gladly;
Now I must wave you out of sight.
Ah, but you used me badly, badly.
(Who’d like to take me out tonight?)
All of the blundering words I’ve spoken,
Little white love, forgive, forgive.
Once you went out, my heart fell, broken.
(Nevertheless, a girl must live.)