And it will change the world you drive in, for good.
The August moths have maimed July. He wishes he looked away. Premium hand sliced Italian meats. Buffet of tragedies. The sound resembled a large safe being dropped. California straddles two tectonic plates. The ripening of summer. Your demented wire-haired fox terrier attacks a 15 pound box of laundry detergent. Pray for me, my wife is a lesbian. Do not hesitate or delay while drawing the knife. This pony has horses. S is for super swell family glee. Commitment to the cat—30 min. The horn was embedded in the wood grain of the steering wheel, which he clutched tightly, blasting the horn every few minutes. Intense swaying. I believe I have special powers. For a person who drives alone…or with one very close friend. She is having a tough time. A pocket knife with a closed blade. You think you invented it? Withholding medication or hormones. Once, she too, was that. The left-handed chairs have been shunted. The neighbor walked up and cut the power to the house by tripping the outside breaker panel. There is almost always a primary aggressor. Do not use excessive sawing or chopping. Hey journalists, stop tweeting the police scanner. Do you have any tranquilizers? You’re not yourself today. The door kept banging against the wall, still, we slept. NOTICE-Needless to say this is bio-hazard. No whistling in the bathroom. Eight foot rainbow fish. Legalize assimilation. Burn like that. Money pit=Canadian refrigerator. Do you have what you need to carry out your plan? The Power of Digital Diplomacy. Do not lacerate or tear the trachea or esophagus, this indicates an imperfect blade. The blood contains the soul. My heart is looking for something epic to contain it. Kokura, Yokohama, Niigata, Kyoto and Hiroshima—Nagasaki. August makes us anxious. When speaking to the press identify as Mary. Whose quiet confidence has been a source of strength to me since boyhood. No color, no contrast. Orange pen pirate beard. Those closest to arriving and leaving this world are least likely to be aware of being in it. Make language plastic. Handled the reporter’s questions with aplomb and élan. Let the crusades commence. Stay away from the coast. Please remember to always plunder without mercy and take what you want. Suspended from a belt. This is why we can’t have nice things in California. New ideas: painkilling drugs, irrigation, mirrors, melons, wheel barrows and the color scarlet. Death seemed to have a momentum of its own. Recline rage. The grasshopper left us arguing in the hammock. If anybody happens to know the people I am talking about, and can put a bug in their ear to lay low, it would be a good idea. Brown is the new green. Today, against all odds someone has remembered you. We don’t put toys on our penis. Thank you, I love you, goodnight. Please send pants.
Julia Tranchina is currently working on a series of 27 language poems. Her writing has also appeared in Barrelhouse, Monkeybicycle, Ohio Edits and Lime Hawk Literary Arts Collective. She lives with her wife and two-year-old twins in San Jose, California.