Sundaze: A naked lunch in the political echo chamber

Sunday, April 17, 2016

1315

COMMENTARY

(Editor’s Note: NonDoc provides Sundaze as a weekly space for poetry, short prose, visual art and other ideas pitched by creatives in Oklahoma and around the world. All submissions are encouraged, and new creatives are sought. Submit your work for publication by contacting Editorial@NonDoc.com.)

Comic First

Political echo chamber — Enter the political echo chamber. (Mike Allen)

Poetry second

tell me about your rib cage
by Erin Taylor

I have started cutting myself out of pictures
a blank space holding a white space that once
held me.
I wish it was possible to love you & to love myself at
the same time, but it isn’t. My internal clock does
not work that way.
my internal clock works in overplayed weather metaphors
& finding new ways to avoid telling people that I
hate myself.
my friend luis told me i write with a physicality & i wish i told
them that it stems from wanting to forget my own
body in another’s body.
we all are just trying to forget our own bodies
your eyes closed as you reached a peak of me loving
you, learning to forget & become.
I need to clean my sheets
I need to clean my sheets
I need to clean my sheets
of myself.

the beat generation is dead
by Erin Taylor

a boy gave me naked lunch and two years later i gave him head in his dad’s house
he had curly hair and really piercing eyes and didn’t make me orgasm,
he only felt concerned once i told him but he was already driving me home.
– I am weak for you and you never make me feel like my orgasm is
an inconvenience and you never make me read William S Burroughs to show
i know something about literature. you have made a home between my thighs
& the night is cold without your hands lingering
on my body.