The Precise Temperature Of Darkness.

A worldalter in harps phrasing my breath All to

lilly in the shade Every corner is rounded before

the chirping cardinals ignite Before the

signals incinerate the tables wont wobble on cue

and the flowers all stole velvet

O Sweet.

Three poems up on O Sweet Flowery Roses. Check them out here.
Special thanks to Russell.

Seeing Through the Warm Months.

Artwork by
Matthew Woodson

ghostco

after Guided by Voices.

90. A Chicken blows.

A good flying son Cigarette tricks.

Alright.

and Little Game.

Big bird Motor away.

Chief.

Chinese Restaurant.

Closer Auditorium.

Evil salute. Ex-. go. go up,

we go not Watch me of Whirl.

Gold (I wanna be a) King

down Caroline. Hit. hunting knife.

Jets. jumpstart. My cool.

My dumbcharger.

pricks Pimple Zoo As we. salty speakers.

Strawdogs. Striped White hick.

Supermodel Always Crush me.

The ugly vision.

They’re witches.

valuable Blimps. you are.

poetry by Chris Corlew.

Chris Corlew is the author of two chapbooks, The Day the Dinosaurs Went Extinct and Michael's Anniversary Party. He is a junior at Loyola University Chicago, where he edits the magazine Diminuendo.

gow Dow experience.

rolling logs kissing dogwolves

treasury tealoyal

wraps of god stupidnut

compared to the universe nextdoor

the real halfways of loving kickbags

and blooming Niagarafalls for pennytrees 

is easy 

my name was fancy

compared to what?