Archive for November, 2010

November 30, 2010

“An Intense But Patient Little Sufferer” by Mia Bruner

.

A molech

in a fit of delirium

……….wants to devour children, small animals

………….a soda can used for an ashtray.

……………………a friendly dog.

.

stubborn little knot (at the top of that gorgeous spine)

……….on the plastic sheets. there were tubes there and no bedpan

……………………………………………………………………..I could see.

………………..but she smelled like piss and baby food in that bed

.

everyone knows. ev-er-y-one knows

that everyone cannot see themselves really.

……….in motion. in time.

.

…………………………can’t see it but know it is everywhere

and

…..we all know that everyone is being a human  (those things of

…………………………………………………………………….big bangs)

.

then hips crack.

.

………these bones reassemble.

November 30, 2010

from “Bicinium” by Andrew Colarusso

.

VI.

in this weather………..…-bares your name

its small teeth…….confess they will never

.

be as sexually precocious……..…as in this

moment confess-……..…-as in this theater

.

confess a fear maybe…….you would enjoy

the sensation of nylon socks and sandals

.

staringat the hands on a strange pocket

-watch your face bearing some odd regret

.

VIII.

sunday-……….…….…….-the only adjective

for asking to lay deathly by you…..-face to

.

sun.……ears of grass and the grain in the

photos of your childhood..…..…-these are

.

sunday-….…-warm eyed foehn indifferent

when talk of bluing meant-…….-I hunger

.

sat God crying and..…….blue for company

wind gives lift to glass-on days like this

.

XIII...………………….unison

in hot flowers of zinc-………………..-wilts

the watchmakers hands yellow-….-hands

.

the country..-claimed only half an identity

two persons play chess-……-only one face

.

of the two is very visible………-swallowing

eyes a dancing horseman-.….-why do you

.

want his win like your own-……-we knew

we could love any well………..like our own

.

VII

we are things in parsing..….-age fantasia

and………….…..-here is not room for two

.

and hear a low and driving-..…..-whinny

from a depth of dark……………..and chase

.

something sallow-…….-forbidden undeal

ing from where we have come….diffident

.

when wakeless rasping mountain ranges

in fingertips over linen what day is today

.

XIII...…………………..unison

leavened black bread from the oven….-in

idyll placed on the sill to cool and……cut

.

clean your fragrant steam in black wisps

whipped from a black vascular….trapped

.

air before your skin..hardened-&-on that

sill the world will climb in-..-to each like

.

dream in idyll sun will climb glass-and

creep steady in to each like dream…..-like

November 2, 2010


AS you all know, we here at MODULOMAG still need your submissions to make our little venture a print reality. Look for these fliers around your hippidity-hoppidity ‘hoods in Brooklyn, if you indeed live there, and maybe even around the Eugene Lang/NYU campuses.