something on your mind?

Turn it over. Think and re-think and un-think and over-think. Send your thoughts and non-thoughts on the unthinkable to

1 - Christian Brown

2 - Thomas Piekarski

3 - Thomas Piekarski

4 - Gerard Sarnat

5 - Jenna Cardinale

6 - Jenna Cardinale


Placard, Personal

I’ve been inside

all day. The folds in

the curtains form

pale bars.

I can see through them,

detail everything I’m not


I hear the weird

whispers slipping out

of the old radiator.

This is a tenement.

This is New York.

This is a kind

of safety.

Enough with the fear

of doing. Of not doing. Do.

Here, the female

form is a broad door

leading toward so many

exclamation points.


All this Melting

Newly ordered,

it’s been suggested

I practice being

a mermaid. Understand

the servility of it.

So much waving.

Like a beauty queen

or a wife

of a head of state.

It’s a complete workout.

And who doesn’t love

the way long hair looks,

dancing around the bubbles

of this long exhale.

It’s a particular aesthetic,

like your appreciation

for the way I am unable

to run.


The kidney cage.

Stinging eyes.





Ultima Thule


No longer the world as we know it. No longer bright

orb in a unique time. It has spun out of control, guns

ablaze with spite, nations stiffening the pace toward

contractual genocide. Christians trundle out of caves,

St. Peter who was crucified upside down a bit actor.


Civilizations torn by bombs, desecration widespread,

warheads glorifying God with their furious whining

above everyone’s heads: discoloration of stone walls,

walking across a bed of white-hot coals with no shoes,

a man and wife hand-in-hand traipsing down M Street.


The North Sea swarms with whales, serpents, sharks

and Gorgons wanting reprieve. The Baltics stockpiled

to the sky with hissing missiles. Cyber spies converge

at the point of no return. Tangent winter weeps for fall.


Winter weeps and sparrows mate at the frozen equator,

the long shadow of a glowing lantern cast upon our sun.

Suck it up all you saps enlisted in Mohammed’s army,

we dash your brief souls, reap thunder from the wind.


Our minds have many wrinkles, have been through this

before between incarnations of rock and blood, empire

and fiefdom. Demented fiends torture, lie, murder, smash

our collective conscience, and we’re invalids standing by

while innocents get disintegrated. These events manifest

as rivers of misery roaring through our garden of delight.


Serial Liar

The serial liar once perceived

as a pillar of democracy

is the prime proponent causing

the proletariat backlash

against oppressors who raid

with reckless abandon.

Revolt is the only solution

in the evolution against evil.

Evil will swallow the people

unless they fight back, rebel

and send the plutocrats packing.

Compromise is no option,

plays into the hands of betrayal:

you want to reach out and embrace

the contrary view for what it’s worth

but then receive a lance in the back.

The serial liar isn’t silent about

his revanchist policies, replete

with threats, treachery, onerous taunts

meant to stultify any unified opposition.

Nobody will blame you

if you opt out, cash out now,

stash every dime

in a hope chest

and pray for the best.



Hermes textile patterns, how to draw two sunsets and the undulating walls of the great cave.

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