153 lede

Looks More Like a Fire Extinguisher to Me by Dizz Tate

IN YOUR CHAIR, you sit with your feet on the table. You wear grey tracksuit bottoms and a grey t-shirt. You hair is greasy and licks at your shoulders. “Get your rotten feet off my table,” I say. In my chair, which is orange, like a hospital chair, you are younger, rounder, in jeans that are too skinny. “And get out of my chair.”
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all seasons at once & one more, by meryem nuh

and you will survive this swollen
soft sighing seasoning
your limbs will be hot and roaring and
aching to fall in the middle warmth of you
the detail valley between your breasts will
rise to make a sun on your chest

Infrastructure Gaps. (& Cherry Red.) by Carter Vance

I was watching a World Bank lecture video
on public-private financing for railways and ports,
distracted by the speaker's gaudy bowtie,
shining of reflective red, dotted with WASP
anchors, nautically-themed and silently
running through everything but the benefits
of lower-run interest rates for finance
by governments due to the security of return

EPISTOOLATE by To Be Continued

“ya'll ever allay reverey,
  ye-ahead Y H W H night'ta ray
    relief, felicity-feelin' a cat atcha
      back? ca'chin' duplicity, Plinty'd-dueplex
        pleurisive-sieve, fumes suffuse-fumisterie
          dare behoovhim to sea. Or don't, really—
            tack-act, tah-cack baccarattlin' dispatch
              flaxen-flummoxed ya moxy bucksum bruv
                and bent I T Z match.
or did el buildinned, den-id liuble-layer
  ayer'll-y era? Plintyve arreyed bane
    polėssed – concretism solecismed cretin-
      schism ches'd. H I S ' M, os-sown paraboelic'd
        emonstravast denoted: banque banquets, benthic
          bathos abcint nėbulouscoolets, abest a beastiar
           te arya'd B.S.ð regardless mess, address, duressðuplelect
             abdicartel-vicar ballot, 8 to 9 discbar'dargot genuwine-genuflects—”

My Pussycat’s Murderer by Jessica Schouela

She never ate anything she cooked herself in front of other people because she thought that to display pleasure in your own creation was vain and she didn’t want to be that kind of person in public. I know this probably makes it seem like she was excessively nice, altruistic, but believe me it was all an act. It was just like in those movies where they make you think one character is the bad guy and then three quarters in you realize he or she is the real victim. Come to think of it, it was exactly like that. That’s why when I saw her through the window eating her own cake I yelled at her, narcissist! narcissist! She was always so smug and while I admit this wasn’t my best moment I sincerely felt she deserved it.

Renee Fox's We took off to the great heights

Jasper, Bella Coola
Escaping
fleeing from
overcrowded hangars, airports
Kevlar and duffle bags
100 days of wind.
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