By Luke Kozikowski

Dale Horowitz had never cheated at Scrabble
but today is the day for new habits.
He pussyfooted his finger into the bag
she chatted on the phone
“x,” huh?
Fuck yeah.
triple-word score.

Check out Permanent Bliss. It’s the online home of my friend and former colleague, Peter Davidson, and features some truly excellent poetry and photography. The curation is top notch and has a sort of hypnotic effect as you work through the entries. You can find one of his poems on Proyekto, too.

By Luke Kozikowski

Holy shit.

It’s boogie time.

Boogie, boogie, boogie.

Do you know what this means?

Do you know what this fucking means?!?!?

Okay, I get it!

You’re my therapist and you should be detached

Fine.

But trust me, doctor, it’s boogie time.

And I want to boogie with you.

By Luke Kozikowski

“We are fucked, Mike! Royally fucked.

“What about the booking agent?

“What about the publicist?”

 “And MaryLou!

“What about her?

“And Stacey and Bill?

“What about the merch table?

“What a dick!”

Steve’s wilted palm repels his anxious bangs,

“Who will put out the next record?

“Who will …”

Mike, stolid behind the kick drum, replies,

“You will.”

The amps hum,

“Steve … Jesus Christ.”

By Brandon Kreitler 

The knife thrower at the carnival practices with a dummy strapped to a spinning wheel,

a painted spiral because who wants flatness?  – a sack of laundry under the sheets,

         a mannequin metastable in an immaculate windowscape.

Hello I.

What then can be said in a world where cotton stands in for snow? 

– flagbearer.

I  asks the knife thrower for directions where the road splits in two.

What’s down this way?

A slaughterhouse.

And in the other direction?

A slaughterhouse.

Water in the posture of river.  

Erasure.

I presses the side [do not read edge] of his newly sharpened

knife, running it over the slab of beef sitting on the counter-top. 

            Methodical in the absence

                                         of method.

– the part of knife that means change,

                                    that takes everything

                        for itself emptied.