Poetry | Tarpaulin Sky Magazine
Poetry | Tarpaulin Sky Magazine
PUBLISHING NOTHING BY BILLY COLLINS SINCE 2003 | IMAGE: NOAH SATERSTROM
Pleasure Objects by Steven Teref
[Sonnet] // Panty Sniffing / Pedal Pumping / Ponyplay // Pregnant / Prolapse // Ponytail / Pegging // Piss Drinking // Pakistani / Plumber...
Poems by Jennifer Pilch
Chorus: There was a child who died. / She takes what is no longer given then takes what is no longer given then takes what is no longer given then takes what is no longer there. / How to catch the wrinkled pleats ripple above the knees. / How to retain before the vacant chest. / How light increased on strands of copper hair. / Chorus: There was a child who died.
Poems by Maia Elgin
Lodged in the Speciman’s trachea, his legs melt, his antennae melt, all his segments melt, and his mandible too. Even his ideals melt and his surreptitious preconceptions. His ice-caps, his caddywhompus, and his heartbeat melt. All his hookers and all his hipsters. His leaf bites and his egg-life. His mindfulness and his fluster melt. His proboscis & balls, his eardrums, his toes, his cilia, his superciliousness....
Poem by Paul Siegell
What happens when through a wormhole a gravestone passes? / Does it matter how fit the biography? Arc, longevity in a time / warp? How many other people know your name, or image, or / oeuvre?
Poems by Tony Mancus & Michael Rerick
Another stretch of no motion. Wait for it to start, they both said and the plan was easy to act out. They cordoned off territory, laid still with the dust that walls made, and confused comfort with setting or a programmable box. Their hairs were lengthened and cut. Their bodies could fabricate warmth, could actualize and forcibly enter this plan like a rental.
Poems by Laura Kochman
This is the science of bodies: the shape and the frame, the altogether. The not. The soft part stretching over the hard form. Leaving a little bone behind, the body the occupied or the body the occupier.
Cindy St. John, Dream Vacation
"I don’t know the names of the stars or their constellations. I don’t know the names of clouds, I don’t know the names of trees, most flowers, most plants in general." Excerpts from Cindy St. John’s poetry manuscript, Dream Vacation, a finalist for the 2015 TS Book Prize.
James Belflower, Doyen
"But I have so many questions summoned for ‘this is my body.’ / phantom on me, / is this tongue? / the current embodiment, foregoing organ / meat a page / light across a half eaten apple." Excerpts from James Belflower’s poetry manuscript, Doyen, a finalist for the 2015 TS Book Prize.
Elisabeth Workman, You Always Live Again
“whisperings in the dumpster / all lattices of hesitation to be pulled down by / invasive crawling networks of the underneath / always roiling or just always there…” Excerpts from Elisabeth Workman’s poetry manuscript, You Always Live Again, a finalist for the 2015 TS Book Prize.
Lauren Russell, What’s Hanging on the Hush
"Her huffy histrionics take no heckling, that / uppity puffed-up pastiche mishmash. / The hellion half-breed’s / hussyfooted a harvest, a windfall / ensnarled in her miscegenated sassy nappery." Excerpts from Lauren Russell’s poetry manuscript, What's Hanging on the Hush, a finalist for the 2015 TS Book Prize.