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  • CASSIDY RIOS KANE
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  • IMAANI CAIN
  • CHRISTOPHER BELL
  • CHARLIE BAYLIS

CASSIDY RIOS KANE





​TAROT POEM ZERO

PART I

1.

Tomorrow's Strength will all be in our Heads.

Gnashing teeth and punching digits

become plump like biscuits and in dumb abundance.

Become like blankets:

soft, radiant and amphetamine­clean.

Becomes a wetness at the edge of town, like a salivated swan song;

a pun on deaf ears.

2.

ADAM BIC lights another oily midnight stogie

and mutters "fuck, I forgot my tarot."

Another hometown hero bites the dust.

3.

Adam Bic busts another meaningless nut on the glass and talks intergalactic politics in

Ohio

to someone on the sofa who looks like tofu

who sees the words float like foam in a mug or a low­hung moon in front of him.

4.

Hateness at the beige edge of town;

slimeshadows eating at its breadcrust borders.

Adam Bic's stomach pumps Demon of the Abyss.

The heart in his chest mutters "stalemate", his eyes stuck on a GIF of a dick going limp

while his fingertips spill flash fiction on acid. He exists opposite on the spectrum.

Opposite, that is, to the centerpiece of Heironymus Bosch's GARDEN OF EARTHLY

DELIGHTS.

[This is where the speaker and the audience

all take a single drag off an

invisible cigarette.]

 ̊o0O0o ̊

5.

Tomorrow's Temperance will all be in our throats;

all enclosed in parentheses.

You can be a healthy person and still enjoy suffering (?)

Laces at the edge of the garden

water­soluble BIrthday Cake

in abundance

in a dumb dance

Putting a pelvic stress on the "ec",

she waxes and says

I mean, Emily Teal talked to me

from out of somewhere in the Oceans

or the Fields.

I think while I was sleeping last night.

Tarot in the throat

she said "You'd better learn about tECHnology"

^no^

^logos^

smiling and swaying upside down,

shadows washing over the landscape of her face

as her LED eyes scan the sea of Blistering Mediocrity.

She sinks deeper into her invisible chair

takes a bite from an invisible flower

and says

"You'd better learn about that plate glass ceiling just under the sky."

She sends ripples through the ponds in my chest

and says "check".

6.

Emily Teal takes a soft drink from the lantern on the counter

and hands it to someone on the sofa who looks like Ohio.

She says "You'd better learn about technology. Flip that maggot­switch. All Cycles

describe All Cycles, vaguely and with captivating poetry"

and takes a soft sip of intergalactic politics from one of the ponds in my chest.

7.

Flashes at the edge of the Garden.

Night falls apart like a soaking wet pizza

or someone breaking a finished M.C. Escher jigsaw puzzle over their knee

or golfing with a gallon of milk for a ball.

It's Mr Lambert with the vase shaped torso,

flowers sprouting out his asshole

his legs gout­bloated into flesh­galoshes

smiling and swaying upside down

with eyes like opposite faucets

while faces at the edge of the garden

change places with the gathering shadows

8.

Tarot Poem Goo

gathers between my fingers.

The precious link between dew point and surface tension is a strand of spiderweb

twanging fake Hank Williams for Nobody at Dawn in Florida.

Cassidy Rios Kane writes poems to deal with stuff he almost understands but totally doesn't, OR: writes poetry to describe how surreal/intricately visceral those little daily things can be. he's been doing it off and on for ten years, mostly for no audience cause ppl don't really fuck with poetry much these days. influences/interests include: coyotes, gnomes, interspecies theory, vulture/raven/crow(n), salvia divinorum, ereshkigal/choronzon and all those fine-ass moments. you know the ones

https://www.instagram.com/lvrkwvrk/

https://soundcloud.com/kshpshr

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