by Florina Nastase
the last month is autumn:
a bearded nun sifts pine sap
while her sisters roast the boy’s meat
and turn the potted plants
towards the sun.
sunshine on the roof of nobody.
they wired these medieval walls
for outsiders who came to
buy sap sifted by virgins.
people with mirrors listened to the trade.
there’s never been so many airways
but there’s only one belfry.
autumn has made me question autumn.
prayers are a different kind
of burning meat. i asked them to spare me
today, the mirror made me spill the sap
in my lap like a man’s fortune.
it smells of barbecue
and the history of all this goodness
gives me chilblains.
please give us the sun
finally, nothing can discontinue.
whether I hold the face under the faucet
or cut the ears like onions,
the thing will stain the floor with its children,
it will crawl in the clefts and create culture.
I can’t stop myself from being god
and god allows the being to
multiply. until when?
saprophytic little follicles, cleaving to my leg
fondling me, please give us the sun,
I don’t turn on the light.
they mutate in the violet dark my own
benevolence I don’t know
how big can they grow?
last week, I thought I heard
the foxtrot of bugs,
yesterday, I woke up
in the middle of the night.
the kitchen lights were on, already
they had wings.
their hungry mouths craved song.
I let them sing
my glory. god makes angels
against his will.
Florina Nastase is an Assistant Professor at ‘Alexandru Ioan Cuza’ University in Iasi, Romania. She holds a PhD in American poetry, and spends copious amounts of time writing online. She has been published in Kajet, Gasher Journal, The Decadent Review, La Piccioletta Barca, High-Shelf Press and others, and hopes to publish more.
Daniel Kent Foley is a Navajo visual artist and writer based in Central Ohio. He works mostly in mixed media and photography, experimenting with processes and layering them to create odd subjects in strange environments that exist somewhere between representation and total abstraction. He aims to provoke critical thinking by presenting forms that vaguely echo reality in compositions that defy it; suggesting a narrative but allowing the audience to arrive at it themselves and in their own way.