Vote on the best Corpse of the Quarter!
Which corpse is the best corpse? Now that we have an exquisite family of corpses we’d like to begin sharing them in the pages of Space and Time to celebrate our community of writers and poets… but we only have room for one corpse a quarter.
Since we can’t choose (how do you pick a favorite child?) we’ve decided to let our readers choose. From now until March 1, readers can vote on their favorite exquisite corpse from December, January and February. The winning poem will appear in issue #136 to be released March 19. Contributing poets will be listed as authors of the poem in order of contribution.
How do you vote? Easy, just cast your vote in the box below to help decide the Corpse of the Quarter. Vote as many times as you like, and feel free to share, cajole and con your friends into voting for your choice.
What is an exquisite corpse? An exquisite corpse is a community creation. Poets from all walks come together with their bits and pieces to contribute. It’s like Stone Soup with words—the only thing we can be sure of is the surprise.
Congratulations to all the poets who contributed to “What We Do for Love,” our Corpse of the Quarter. The winning Corpse poem will appear in the next issue of Space and Time, on sale March 19.
When summer’s burden falls into an ember
fingers of lava stretched across the sunlit meadows—
distorted ripples betray the hidden combustion.
Smoldering shimmer’s embrace; a cocoon of searing warmth that chills my bones…
fever dreams shiver through me; we dance, you drink my sweat, we are one.
Too fast does a fire burn. Too soon come the frozen ashes.
Sweat rolling – mingling with blood as my dry tongue licks chronic thirst
a boiling cauldron emits a stench so foul it cuts through the steaming air.
The night throbs with death, a testament to dying suns.
Menopausal wildfires torch the landscape of skin.
—Sonora Taylor, Susan Hanniford Crowley, R.A. Smith, Nina D’Arcangela, Alyson Faye, Angela Yuriko Smith, Leadie Jo Flowers, Marian Barker, Marge Simon and Stephanie Ellis
The Ties That Blind Us
The helix binds us, double-stranded, base-coded,
a relative connection manipulated
Intangible links constrict at impending time
The deep soul entwined. A bloodline sway.
Steel of brothers cross away. One did fall.
The other regrets the day…
Kisses, kith and kin… the hearth is stained. The family ends…
Bones break when love relates.
As her crows circle slowly around her head,
beating their wings in terrible silence.
When Blood is watered down by too many sins,
it runs pale and thin
—Kool-Aid never fools anyone.
—Stephanie Ellis, Ryan Aussie Smith, Luiz Peters, Dakota Cato, Angela Yuriko Smith, Quinn Cato, Marge Simon and Elsa M. Carruthers
What We Do For Love
in the silence of broken mirrors and splinters of light
I have hollowed myself out—flesh, mind and soul—to create within me a shelter for you.
Not the bright red love on a dollar store valentine, but deeper, darker, distilled by time.
With satiny inks I slick my unsigned flesh to match what in you sings, intangible.
I will drown in your darkness, submerge myself in your shadow.
I stalk you like a heron hunting a vole.
Walking through a rain of the blood of your enemies
I died for love but love died anyway and I’m still dead.
I accuse myself yet offer you undue reprieve…
support, sacrifice, defend or die…
selfless acts, unconcerned with self-preservation.
I destroyed galaxies just for you.
Plutonian shores raze daydreams, harbinging
hormonal urges and stolen kisses; draining one’s self for the other.
For her pleasure, he crafts black orchids from the shadows
abandoning all freedom for the torture of manacles wrapped in iron and pain…
sacrificing self, arteries by corpuscles, on the altar of harmony.
Momentum towards all that matters, the abundant and purest adhesive for everything shattered.
Adoration for all imperfect, constant awareness of how one affects.
Handfuls of dust are replaced with a single black feather.
Bite by bite we shred the tender meat, tongue the texture, treasure the tales left by time…
wring our hearts of blood and souls of grace for passion’s beloved and painful trace.
We give until we’re empty, hoping to become complete.
We sacrifice our freedom for the cage of an embrace.
We do what skin, bone, flesh, require…
extrude a new organ, hoping for compatibility…
bury hearts with bloodied hands, offer the Judas kiss—
the exhaled immortal breath.
—Russell Hemmell, Elsa M. Carruthers, Brenda Huettner, Felicia Martinez, Angela Yuriko Smith, Cobalt Jade, Harris Coverley, Tina Rath, KB Nelson, Briant Laslo, Ryan Aussie Smith, Christina Sng, Moaner T. Lawrence, Pamela K. Kinney, Marge Simon, Querus Abuttu “Dr. Q.”, John Reinhart, Tina Swain, Nelson, Colleen Anderson, Naching T. Kassa, Carol Gyzander, Jennifer Shelby, Denise Dumars, F. J. Bergmann, Stephanie Ellis and Vincent Shaw-Morton
Voting Currently Closed.
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