Poetry
Summer 2001
Glass Dress
Lily St. Cyr is dead. A de-luxe woman, stripper extraordinaire. Blond, like the cortex of a blazing sun finding the perfect grammar of its form in sublime asymmetry, gams and […]
Poetry
Summer 2001
Body Says
Body says, meet the animal who made you. Body says, I'll take mine with a little tornado sauce, please, and cunnilingus on the side. Body says break and […]