View Archives by:


Pop Quiz:

Dora Malech

Twist of lime or twisted arm? Lent hand or footsy?
All the crossword puzzle nouns can’t help me now—
the castle and the thistle, the roan, the vireo and jib.
Hello pursed door-to-door lip service, high horse sense.
The townsfolk squawk foxy, wave the big flag
as I offer my treaty, treatise titled Heart as Blank Check.
If tit, then tat. File under: beeswax, none of your.
Organ dolor means I’d release this sad skin.
Tactile error means wrong cheek to cheek.
I’m wetting my unicorn suit. Can’t blame this mess
on the longwinded weather, cyst or stye or whiskey dick.
Throat closed for repairs, I gag a bit, allergic
to the peanut gallery: It’s your fucking heart, man.
I pledge a lesion, draw a spine in the sand.

Dora Malech

Read Bio

Author Discusses Poems