Breadcrumb #273

ANIKA CZANDER

O terrible two
You tyrant of tardiness
Forever delayed
Forever held
Momentarily
By the trains dispatcher
Sardined subway
At 7:49 am
A boner is pressed
Against my leg

We clamor inside
To fill you up
Though two may
Be three
And sometimes
One

Take me to my lover
My classes
My bars
Transport me, my two
By your
Tumultuous tumble
Your tenured track

Frigid silver skeleton
Stand clear
For the closing
Doors
Hark! Another train
Close behind
I repeat
There is another train close behind!
We disregard that which you
Speak, two train

Your car
Is a journey
Thrashed
With unforgiving
Air conditioning

• • •

Breadcrumb #272

LYNN WHITE

Between the sips of
white wine sangria and
a broken stream
of words
and smiling touches,
she began afresh.
“It’s not that I’m not tempted,”
she said
“and I don’t want to offend you.”
She took my hand briefly,
to show no offense
was intended,
then let it go.

I held on to hers
as she explained.

Then we walked in silence
for quite a long way
enveloped in the dark night.
Hand in hand.
Quiet footsteps
that didn’t break the silence.

She looked up at me and smiled.
I smiled back.
Or was I the first to smile
and she smiled back?

I don’t remember.
It doesn’t matter,
but we still don’t remember
as we smile afresh
sipping our white wine.

• • •

Breadcrumb #271

SARA MARTIN

we’ve made a new friend,
her name is hook,
she is filling up your face
and making my hair grow longer

god didn’t say we should love slow, so i don’t know why you think it
i don’t know if he even knew what it was like to be on the edge, of a track field,
and wanting to run so bad
in his new, new, new, soft, sneakers

you and i have a new friend,
she follows me home,
and tells me all about the dynamics of water

everything is wavey, she says
every wave is love every bit of love is a wave
every wave is better than the one before

• • •

Breadcrumb #270

SOPHIE MURPHY

synthetically
my world was realised,
restrained projections
projections forbidden entirely,
a passive approach with the mildest anticipation like a dash of salt to season the
boiling water and whatever the starch it comes into contact with. but salt in water
seasons the rice
[just one pinch!] well,
well,
well better than any other seasoning and that is true, irrefutable. locked down,
and in, and padlocked again, QUIETISM only reveals pseudo problems so I shall
proceed:

there exists someone [spiralling into a maelstrom of Insanity] I’m tethering, I feel
its spikes
they are soft
[Leibniz agrees!]
I see now that crazy people wear socks, boils and crusty bits unrealised. I never
knew they wore socks I only saw sandalled crazies. open-toe- open-mind- open-
to-demise no size mind can predict its appeal. why do we touch cacti when we
know the consequence? some do some don’t
Insanity glistens
it swoons and you touch its membrane. it cuts Again! it cuts some and it cuts only
those who touch it, and always both parties but never neither

it is funny
[i am human]
don’t destroy my internality with your external assessment solidifying false
quantifiers Leibniz would happily dispute which doubles back into my cognitive
fluid and flows to every crevice (in every possible world), osmosis of normality -
some parts are saltier than others - before any meniscus is decided upon
those parts dip into the hot spring of CRAZINESS and they like it sometimes so
they keep their toe their until it requires a hospital - not hospitable! oh no no no
foot so RAVISHED could assist a body {~[(matter) its (mass)]}

• • •