yesterday, on the car ride home,
I had to pull over and
imagine you
slipping your slight fingers
under my shirt and over my fluttering heart-
—
I let my eyes roll inwards
and back
to that blinking
jungle of cobweb confusion
that blossoms
in your body
between sleep and sight.
Where everything flashes
then falls
loose
and limp.
“I had to” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: Wildwood by Elle Hanley
I see that it is me
I am running after.
soft, bowed legs
flat, smacking feet
and a lung inflated by the the pinching mist
of your marigold perfume.
I live in
circles within circles in a Nowhereland–
but
as long as the haze of your touch
tingles
in my chest,
I am happy to spin
like a carousel horse
with a pole
through
its
spine.
“Spun” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: A Delicate Balance by Morgan Kendall
when curls unfold
limber fingers embrace salty hair
bound by the sea
through the earth
above the air
heaving hearts thrust blood out and around
as lips
once loose with language
slowly suck
breathes large and small
to fill plump plumb colored lungs
which swell
which fall
“Plump Plumb” by Meaghan Merrifield
the curtain that I peer through is Ivory
not white-
so when your legs tremble
in your back’s lonely slouch,
I see in them
the earthiness of light brown. And you are
a little biege feather
quivering in anticipation of the morning breeze.
And this
and this
is more soothing
than the truth.
“Through the Window” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: The Velvet Darkness of his Mind by Morgan Kendall
In my dream, you were naked–
I think.
–Your breasts and lips were drenched
in the scent of me and
I was
all over you.
At first it made you feel yellow
and new-
like a champagne flower
bubbling in the sunshine
— and then you were angry at me
for reflecting all the mean holes
in your prettyheart
“Prettyheart” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
Artwork: Flora & Fauna by Jenn Mann
You would please me-
but—
Your graceful words
trip
on plump,
pickled
coughs
Artwork by Marko Koeppe and Vesna Pesic
Rainbow by Stephen Quinn
Evo Plant by Cosmic nuggets
Dirt Road by Stephen Quinn
Mr ET by Retrowhale
Nice Tiger by Retrowhale
He walks into the diner, alone, but he looks around.
Blue flannel and jeans, stringy brown hair, all 1990’s.
He sits in a booth by himself
Pushes his silverware out of the way,
And covers his eyes with his finger tips for a time
— Perhaps as respite,
Perhaps meditative.
His right leg bounces, dirty jeans,
Dirty under the nails, dirty tennis shoes.
He has ordered a coffee and a mimosa, but I can’t help think he is too young.
He feels a little better once he gets his food.
His leg stops shaking.
He smiles at a girl passing by, who doesn’t notice him.
“Diner Observation #1” by Vanessa Cate
Artwork: The Undone by Charles Wilkins
The Show Tell Project 