Screaming into a Horse's Mouth
Characters of Control
(For Deniz Unal)


I saw a business woman crawl into the body of an animal
She was sweating and screaming, saying “ahhhh” and then “mmmm”
I watched this happen through a peephole in public, drinking a beer
Feeling my belly swell against my dress. Like a laughing haemorrhoid
The woman danced, freed by the flabbiness of her harm

I want to be touched like that
To have my head pushed forward into a cream pie, or to sit
On the face of a teddy bear, have it paw my breasts
With its fingers, fingers which are its full fist, arm
Like how babies touch with their whole hand
Or how a toddler moves like a cockerel, all stomach
Voluptuous and comic.
Hannah Regel
The Simple Life
He said get over here, but first he grunted
a little erotic prickle, that grunt: like a penis
twitching in sleep, to get
he said where’s your face,
then put himself inside it. As a child
that was how everything reached my mouth;
from a love to please and impress:
black olives, salted anchovies, even snails once.
Isn’t she curious? And now
here you are!
Hannah Regel
The Body of Knowledge About the Sun
Some matter
just turned around
very slowly
to regard itself.

Crows barked
in every direction
for hundreds of years.

Where *are we*
right now? Someone asked
in workshop. Who

is the *you*?

Matter bonded, and
“no one” knows why.
To violently and permanently
separate it, well,

imagine how painters
were once forced to paint the sun!

Rothko said to stand 18 inches
from his paintings in order to see them.

The sun is unviewable.

No consolation.
No menacing spirit.

It gives
everything.
Still

we paint it.
Molly Brodak
The Giant Who Was Big
the giant who was big
was so big
little giants
lived on top
of his head

the little giants who were small
were so small
they didn’t exist

“exist” did not exist
neither did “did”

darkness falls on the giants
endless night
forget about the giants
they are completely gone

now imagine you’re me
there is no me

Once upon a time
there was no one
let’s begin
John Maradik
The Story of Philosophy
Snow gathers on the power lines across the street.

Art beats nature, every time.

Immanuel Kant died like a leaf.

Dik-diks mark their territory with tears.

Truth is the liquidation of an idea.

And I feel like a homunculus, trapped in automaton.

Pessimism as the penultimate decadence.

No results for “socieaphagus” — did you mean: sarcophagus?

Live Look: Every building is a post-war building.

And God is the ghost of a local potentate, just like me.
Andrew Weatherhead
Self-Awareness Bracelet
I try not to give into it
The need to fear
The reluctance to believe
That the leaves will change
with never enough time inside me
I staple my life to its mirror
The staple smiles
I hold my hand up to its reflection
Gift my palm its hidden cool
Who I am smeared like egg into sky
A skeleton adorned with skin
enduring the clunk of heaven’s armor
and what it reflects back to its other
and shadows of my own oblivion glued between
I walk forever into dying forests
I walk into myself passing through
Emerge with my bones a mosaic of feeling
I give into the fear
I give into them all
I run rampant through the hallways of anonymity
Shrieking albeits and falsehoods
I shut up against myself and I wither
I wear patches of withering on my skeleton
A graying mosaic now glued with shadow
I urgently perform what I mean
I mean what I am
Deny the paradox of love
Accept only love
Snap off my twig
Dispose of my shoreline
Enact a crusade upon who I am
When I am wartorn really wartorn
I am sacred against God
I am sacred against God
I plant the war in my shadow
and it germinates midsummer
My glue melts
I fall apart
It is not really war
Was never really me
It was my divine failure
I mean no no no
My failure’s design
I tell myself it’s all just wind in the trees
It’s like laughter
And branches fall to impale the earth
And all of this all of this
And a wandering heart dreams of self-duplication
I reach out with all that I span
It’s a weird thought I’ve become
Daniel Bailey
Double-Barreled
Let our children keep
both names I will not lose
myself again to love
to this idea that I could belong
to anyone other than myself

Three goats swept to sea
by Hurricane Dorian
were eventually found alive
and bleating   Are they the same goats
or do they now belong to the sea
It’s so easy to say yes
and to say no and to never expand

on the aftermath   how I am so confused
my god by every social situation
even shaking a hand I question my femininity
how I must liken everything to goats
as a means of understanding

Goats were first domesticated
between nine and eleven
thousand years ago   Help me herd these up
all these ancient feelings
Charlotte Knight
Egret
two flutes playing two parts
of one movement the egret stands on
one leg then the other
Mike Andrelczyk
Menstruation Poem Number 40
I thought that when my period started,
My depression would
Flow out of me
Like the blood.


It’s still here.
Jessie Knoles
Medusa

In the morning, I wish for lava flotsams to sprout around my feet in the shape of a Pentagram. I have nothing too excellent to offer to this world except for my clueless pearl optimism. I sometimes ignore calls because I would rather be a vengeful crab-thing than listen to decorative tales of resignation and travelling. I had a cat called Lulu, but my grandmother gave her away and that’s when I first felt spiderscopic holes blooming fruitfully across my chest. There are bunnies on my mind, and I wish to be the grass they chew on. There is nothing funny about people tripping or falling over, but I still laugh in their contorted faces. I hate the snow because it forces me to pretend I am a bountiful harpoon, discharging in pink affection. Childbirth scares me because what if I shit more than is deemed acceptable in a room full of strangers? What if I become Medusa except tentacles fly out of my uterus, grab my husband by the throat and possessed-spirit-me screams “I WANTED TO MARRY YOUR BROTHER INSTEAD!” What if he leaves me with my poor sobbing naked mole-rat baby, covered in my uterus blobs and placenta sorrows? I will eat my own dried brown blood as my baby is taken away to a better family and I am left husbandless, babyless, happyless, surrounded by the funny beeping of hospital machines, sleepy nurses, and plasters adorned with cartoon dogs and cats.

Sidrah Zubair
The Title of These Poems Are Also the Beginning of These Poems

NINE TIMES OUT OF TEN


The nail you find pierced
between the webbing
of your toes is coated in
rust and mud.


IF ACTION IS REQUIRED


Please feel free
to ask for me because

I will gladly cut down
armies of the undead and

Remove my pancreas
without local anesthetic and

Lay my head gently
on top of your lap.


THE SUN IS SHINING THE WATER IS GLISTENING AND YOU ARE


In a robe beside the pool.

Drinking champagne from a flute.

Pawing strawberries into your mouth.

Thinking: “The End .”

Thinking: “I love you.”

Thinking: “And I’m not sorry.”
Cavin Bryce Gonzalez
Family Poems

toddler poem

today my toddler
"humped backwards"
until she was entirely
under the couch


nephew poem

my nephew plays basketball
and my sister told him if he scored three baskets
she would buy him a cheeseburger
and he scored six baskets
so she bought him two cheeseburgers


dogs poem

i'm going to take a nap
with my dogs
ok
goodnight
Zac Smith
Jarrahi
The reeds sampled blood
in their daily diet of
hydrocarbons and heavy metals
The gulls woke up hazy
from lead-colored dreams
of not being able to fly
The marsh was silent
The moon was screened behind
a phosphorous halo of shame
Babak Lakghomi
I’ve Never Cared Too Much for Meanings Like
When I sit on the beach and watch a goat emerge from the waves, okay, that’s an omen

and when I climb on the goat and a grief emerges from me in waves, then yeah, that’s a poem

They say at night you only see the clouds when they surround the moon

Then they say something something my heart, something something you

Lately me and my goat pal have been pointing out clouds, talking about what they look like, what they might mean

Like that one’s the world’s saddest oyster knife

or that one’s the reason I have abandonment issues

These comments tend to earn me a murmur of agreement which emanates from the sea

For each murmur, my goat pal bleats solemnly

Each bleat is a reminder that I shouldn’t have to ask to be loved right

I always say to my goat friend O goat friend dear goat friend

how could I ever live without you?

And he always goes like tears tears Madonna

Tears tears for you
Charlotte Knight
I am Sorry for Scaring You
I am burying bulbs of glass.
I am threading lines of copper
Through snakes from the dirt.
I am screaming into a horse’s mouth.

I am two hands filling with venom,
Swollen fingers that fumble
Teeth deeper into the mud and
I am sorry for scaring you.

I am buried in water, blisters
Soft and I tear through
Bubbling skin. I am forcing
Wire through bone to keep
From crumbling to the ground.

I am burying our horse. I am
Placing holes in the casket to
Allow for rot. I am looking for
My teeth in your mouth.

You tell me to leave but my
Knees are now full of lead.
I am screaming as you pull
The snakes from my mouth.
Giacomo Pope
Doorbell
On occasion a person would get so that she couldn’t speak.
Not because of any beauty, which does exist, even too much at times.
No, there would be a water-hurrying feeling, a clean-pages-being-fanned
feeling, and then time really would leave you. Termite sounds four floors
down and leaves unspooling in the ash outside. Returning to a plot of trees
where one hid as a teen and finding it not gloomy, or not meaningful.
Claws tracking in the attic which was otherwise unused. No one is in charge
of any space. Sound of kids screaming in fun down the block while opening a letter
with very bad news about your last hope. That kind of thing. A signal
could be sent, then, a signal itself as a self, even if no one was home.
Molly Brodak
Seattle Memory Number 27
nothing makes me feel more like an animal than when rachel, my 61 year old coworker and only friend, leans over the register and tells me that the men in the plant store can sense my ovulation
Jessie Knoles
Healing
my father never had
sex he tried to but
could not
go into mom
only beside her
therefore I was never
born and had to be
one of those people
who stands outside
cabins at night
John Maradik & Chris Cheney
Haiku
A peach rots
Silently
Under yellow paint
Giacomo Pope
Glass Waves
drawing the batmobile 100 x
typing 15 qs in a row
pulling off a trick on a stunt bike
called the mandala can it be called
a gangway if it isn’t
in a gang can it be called a wave if it doesn’t
break / notice what’s all around you
and repeat it back / the moon
rolls its juicy ass around the earth
I forget the other gifs
anyone need some sky? I’m going
Mike Andrelczyk
Worry Stone
I come up with a better word for the world
and I speak it directly into the earth’s air
I drink cold water from an insulated cup

The earth is untidy
Catkins cover every artificial surface
attempting to inseminate the plastic’s flower

In the previous time zone
it is happy hour
In our time zone
the weeping will soon cease

I have climbed a tall tree
and have written a different word for love
on each leaf
In the fall I will know how to say
what I already know how to say

I breathe oxygen from a ficus in Columbia
A meteorite wound geysers oil
which we will use to anoint the seasons with light
I keep a shard of the meteorite
in my pocket as a worry stone
By the time I finish my thought
it will be rubbed smooth
My thumb will be calloused
but that is good, yes

I must say it is good now and then
I must say, “O yes, I love water”
as I drink again from my cup
I must view it as my duty to say it
I hope to always mean what I say
and for what I say to enhance the image
of the world that I see
and love
but remember that even love’s puddle
reflects what is above it
and below it
and that even a puddle
has a shadow
and all of these things
flourish in thought
Daniel Bailey
Calling in Sick
i just spent
thirty minutes on a bench
trying to remember
whether or not
i had sex in this park
seven years ago
Jessie Knoles
Medicine
Men did unspeakable things to women.
Knobs of bones made public,
sober ceiling fan light on chops, eyeballs.

Iron pebbles collated across limbs.
Better ones practiced shots for the vitals.
Richer ones relaxed in the background.

I remember one so weak he’d
waste quail with a shotgun,
refill fighter jets in his uniform,

hands still sore from strangulation.
One sewed the strap back on his duffle bag.
Others hid him.
Others cheered, among themselves, for the maiming.
Others blamed the women.
Others withheld treatment.
Almost everyone withheld treatment.
Molly Brodak
Thumbnail Image
sailing through space on discount patio furniture
the soft afternoon filtered through ice cubes
you say it again
but this time I let it go by
like the mailman in his mail truck
Mike Andrelczyk
A Dictionary Has Three Windows, One American and Two French
You gather words but you do not order them

To you, a sentence is meaningless

Reading each word, it becomes impossible to understand a sentence

Reading a sentence is impossible

In a notebook you write the definition of each found word from a pocket dictionary

When referring to the definitions in your notebook, you first look up each word in a pocket dictionary

You read the pocket dictionary with a much larger dictionary open on your lap

Reading has become exhausting

You gather definitions but you do not order them

I say I am cold

You look for the word cold in your notebook but cannot find it

You look for the word missing in your notebook

You look up the word found in your pocket dictionary

I close the window

I go to bed

At work the next day, I make a coffee

On my way home, I wait at the crossing

The car which is meant to stop, doesn’t stop

I am outside the door and you are stood at the window

You are trying to close the window

The window is closed and you are lost

I kiss your cheek and open the window

I am cold, I say

You shut the window and we go to bed
Giacomo Pope
About
Screaming into a Horse's Mouth is a website containing poetry.

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Mouths

  • Mike Andrelczyk
  • Daniel Bailey
  • Molly Brodak
  • Cavin Bryce Gonzalez
  • Charlotte Knight
  • Jessie Knoles
  • Babak Lakghomi
  • John Maradik
  • Giacomo Pope
  • Hannah Regel
  • Zac Smith
  • Andrew Weatherhead
  • Sidrah Zubair