Rabble Lit Issue 2/ A New Poetry

“The same people who are murdered slowly in the mechanized slaughterhouses of work are also arguing, singing, drinking, dancing, making love, holding the streets, picking up weapons and inventing a new poetry.” 

-Raoul Vaneigem

Charlottesville/ Alice Beecher

the woken memories of our grandfathers/ the hot south spinning into sap/ the taut cobweb of bracing knuckles/ a symbol like a broken limb/ the fear that repeats itself like water/ the fear that repeats itself like water

New Cybernetics/ J.L. Bogenschneider

T-ness & R-ability are qualities ascribed to people but there’s no reason they can’t be applied to machines, T in particular «a kind of knowing» and it’s actually harder to trust people because they’re unpredictable…

Interview: Leesa Cross-Smith

A true Kentuckian, homemaker, Jesus-lover, and music enthusiast with impeccable taste, Leesa is somehow both a true “writer’s writer” and someone who knows how to be completely down-to-earth.

Two Poems/ Luisa Black

Because they know the piety of/ What collects sound without addition or distortion/ And refracts light without absorption…

Resumé/ Sarah Pape

You told me years later that to smoke meth at work, you would lock yourself in the supply closet, stand on top of your cart with a plastic bag, breathe the toxic smoke into it and hold it directly to the air vent. It was one of many rituals you had perfected in hiding your world from me.

Ostara, 2016/ Bri Mellott

In the summer I will eat nothing but fruit/ Let the soft flesh slide down my throat/ And into my belly where it will rot/ Until I am fat and round with seeds

Cooper Will Be Dead Soon/ Zachary Davis

“You’re saying you’re not available at all on Tuesday, then? You’re certain there’s no wiggle room there?”
“No, I’ll be unavailable that whole day, and every day after that.”

Spoils of War/ Beth Gordon

Graffiti/ on playgrounds, well-fed alpacas in the palace garden,/ mutated children, sleeping in discarded gift/ boxes outside the nightclub./ We begin to seep/ through cracks…