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100 years of ineptitude

http://www.alienmouth.com/june2016/2016/06/22/4.html

100 years of ineptitude. By Theo Thimo on June 22, 2016. Walking around like some dude with nothing to do, unaware of the current inner workings of my own mind. All the people around don’t know anything, they’re so dumb. Parachuting molly in Washington Sq. Park, I tell Audrey that I like stupid people, I just wish they were a little smarter. That’s the thing about the moon, Audrey says, if I wanted to, nothing could stop me from going there. A picnic, I say, with my mom and someone else, I don’t remember.

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Books

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By Bill Moran and Simon Kindt. Poetry - 60 pages - soft cover paperback - $15 USD. Poetry - online pdf - free to read.

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Don't Hurt Yourself

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By Alexandra Cuzzo on June 22, 2016. I bought pepper spray yesterday cause it was $10. Bedazzled. It’s still in the box on the kitchen. Table When I met Adam I was wearing a. Halo cause it was Halloween. I gave it to him cause. He was turning 22 at midnight and also. Probably I fell in love or maybe out of the sky. Or both. We had so many sleepovers. We ordered. So much Chinese food. We were so sad about. Money Kelsey was followed home twice &. That was when I liked her so I was really empathetic.

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welt

http://www.alienmouth.com/july2016/2016/06/22/2.html

By Emily Corwin on June 22, 2016. How long until the bad spot can be touched? I am asking for. Myself. here, there are so many bruises in the making. I stand. Up inside the orchard little seedlings gather, apple cores, my. Vertebrae stuck together, like so. is it ok if I crush you? Want to, I so love this dripping all over. Welt - June 22, 2016 -.

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Subscribe to our mailing list. Email us at alienmouthbooks. Please, no inquires on your submission unless it has been more than 3 months).

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About

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Editor in chief : davis land. Managing editor : gage ledbetter. Reviewing coordinator : christopher morgan. We like to publish new, fun, and good art. you should submit. Follow us on twitter @alienmouth. Like us on facebook. Email us at alienmouthbooks.

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Three Poems

http://www.alienmouth.com/june2016/2016/06/22/5.html

By Sarah Francoise on June 22, 2016. I was a fountain choreographer. In purple sheets, given to glass worship. I was statues, too, broken down to chips,. When the rumor died down at the altar. Elle ordered me (again) to Love My Hair,. When France and Russia fought over warships,. When we were two people meant to Ketchup;. But wasn’t that your job? I mean, the hair). Back when I spent my money on Moleskines -. They still write, to ask me if I want more. I don’t know how to answer such questions,. So old t...

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3 Poems

http://www.alienmouth.com/july2016/2016/06/22/4.html

By Penny Newell on June 22, 2016. Sestina (Altaforte), vis. the unwritten poem. I did not expect to see. Sestina (Altaforte), vis. the unwritten poem. Early one morning, words were. Or, as we said,. To eyes to lids. I loved the day. You have not recently lost any items. You have not recently won any items. You are bidding on a cool. Vintage funky retro fashion tea. Trinket oak/beech jewellery hand-. Made present, 100% excellent! Cool young poets talking about their art basically Xxxx (excerpt).

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Chrysalis

http://www.alienmouth.com/july2016/2016/06/22/3.html

By Leah Velleman on June 22, 2016. Coming home from electrolysis. We think about the things. We wish someone had told us. Back when we still had time. Like, if you want to be. A monster, you can just. Slice open your skin and step. Out into the welcoming shadows. In the woods by the side of the road. Hunt birds, drink insect blood. And grow scales, and faces. To lure boys to their death. When they drive by. Leaning out the window. Chrysalis - June 22, 2016 -.

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1 poem

http://www.alienmouth.com/july2016/2016/06/22/1.html

By Evan Delano on June 22, 2016. Hansel, From Home: An Apology. After Marie Howe’s Gretel From a Sudden Clearing). There is no way to say it. Your window is collecting webs,. Your blackberries ripen and swell and fall. For the squirrels. Every day we spend less. And less time waiting. Sometimes I stand on the roof. And say it into the wind: the first syllable. Rises and drops to the ground, and the second. Gets lost in the forest between my mind and my mouth,. To be picked apart by crows, who fly away.