Who Planted the Tree


︎︎︎ Jacob Seferian 

︎ Oct 3, 2024

Should go to work  /  FIGURE MOVES ARMS UP  /  No empty nights  /  FIGURE MOVES HANDS ACROSS BODY  / Smile at the boss when you clock in  /  FIGURE CLAPS DIAGONALLY  /  Brush teeth real good  /  FIGURE PATS EACH HIP  /  Pain in gut: rent or liver trouble  /  FIGURE MOVES HANDS ABOVE RIGHT SHOULDER  /  “Cee-dee rom” /  FIGURE MAKES A HEART SHAPE WITH HANDS  / Should have sex (see: brush teeth) /  FIGURE SPLITS THE HEART SHAPE IN TWO  /  Shoot the president  /  FIGURE WAVES HANDS AROUND HEAD  /  Peaceful absence of thought  /  FIGURE ROTATES RIGHT ARM IN CIRCLE  /  Lil piss on the toilet seat  /  FIGURE REPEATS.

















Jacob Seferian is a writer in NYC. His work has appeared in several magazines. @coulduseadrink

Also by Jacob: New Year Poem





YOUR BIRTHDAY


︎︎︎ Lamb

︎ Oct 1, 2024

In the delivery room,
inside the table drawer:

a vanilla Tootsie Roll,
a book on wild parrots.

I read to your mother
as she lost more blood

than moved in you
that snown morning.

I think she felt alone.

When sleep came for me,
I came for the Tootsie Roll.

Inside the drawer instead:
a swelling tremolo of bees

making songs of your name
pulling me into an open dark.



























Lamb is an American writer. lamb.onl

Also by Lamb: SO YOU HAVE LUNGS





EX-GIRLFRIEND


︎︎︎ Cletus Crow

︎ Sept 28, 2024

imagine one of those
motion sensing
animatronic halloween decorations
that says the same thing
over and over again
saying i love you i love you i love you
in her voice
then the plastic skull cackles
and never stops












Cletus Crow is a poet. His debut full-length collection, Phallic Symbols, is available from Pig Roast Publishing.

Also by Cletus: Function





ROAD SIGH


︎︎︎ room

︎ Sept 26, 2024

Dealt with nails twice
After heavy rain twice
Math, meet mission im out
Little dog

After heavy rain twice
Came in a purple caskethood
Who demanded freedom got a lollipop
Lick my wounds, Day



















room is a poet and performer creating sound worlds under the name perila. zakharenko.es





The angel man


︎︎︎ Liam Blackford

︎ Sept 24, 2024

Using the latest technology, I created an angel, designed to formal perfection in the shape of a human man, his skin, eyes, face and hair all just like a real human. I generated for him entirely unique biometric markers, including fingerprints and retinas. He can do anything a human can do: he can run, kick a ball through two goalposts and do backflips and somersaults instantly on command. He can take a pencil and draw a perfect circle, speak and read all existing and recorded human languages, look at a glass of water and detect its precise temperature, observe a field of blowing grass and know precisely from what direction the wind blows. I ask him to read me the Bhagavad Gita and he does so flawlessly from memory, and when he is finished I ask him to repeat it in Irish, and then Chinese, and then in Noongar, and he does. I hurl balls at him as fast as possible without warning and his hand flashes to catch each of them every time without fail. We go for long walks along the beach and over mountains. He answers all of my questions with confident flow and emotion, laughing when I tell him jokes and eliciting laughter from me with jokes of his own. When I turn to serious matters he is just as adept, even staring into the distance pensively before providing considered answers about the nature of life, reality, consciousness and the divine. I make extreme and provocative remarks to deliberately shock him, to try and bring a look of fear or confusion to his face, but I find that I cannot. I bark and yell out of nowhere, even right up in his face, and he scarcely blinks. Sometimes I switch him off so that he is frozen in position in his chair or lying in bed; then, I sit down in front of him or lay down beside him and just look into his face and eyes. Sometimes I switch him off in positions that are unnatural and wonder if he feels discomfort or pain. I leave him there for days at a time before switching him back on, at which point he would adjust himself, greet me and carry on as normal. I lived with him in this manner for ten years, in the late stage of which I suffered a period of ill health during which he provided me with great comfort and support. I was so grateful to have him. Some time after I was well again, I asked him if he could go away and never come back, and he did.



Liam Blackford is a West Australian poet and writer. @ravemondfracas