G U R L E S Q U E
In this, the third issue of tiny poetry: macropoetics, we seek out the body of the woman throughout time. We find her in the pages of the Bible and Greek Mythology, in Mata Hari and Rapunzel. We find her in the next vase, in the psalms that are iphone notes. The woman is lost in the lover and brought back by her own volatile memories. She is inside her own imagination, in the words given to her from her friends. She is in every areola, every hard bean curd, every orgasm she never got to have. The woman is and is not Medusa. She is naked and clothed through time. She is Eve holding an apple. She is decapitated and re-embodied on a loop. She is me. She is you. I don't know her - but I do.
Your friendly, motley crew at tp:m.