Picaroon Poetry - Issue #1 - March 2016

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Baby We’re So Cliché it’s Cliché Dean Rhetoric Me and the Cliché, Leaving love codes on bank vaults, fresh bread breath kisses, lick picking through padlocks, Disguising ourselves as clouds on Halloween and hocking spitsies at the meanie kids Cliché and I. Liberating all the unloved animals, killing hitchhikers, pickpocketing pulses and waving dead skin at passing cars. Homemade clothes, turtle shell ties and wet paper towel tights singing hillbilly poetry on the porch Lazy Sunday activities with cliché, throwing fake limbs into privately owned parks, hysterical laughter and violence, arguing over the difference between roses and skulls, falling over for attention, holding hands between mouthfuls of innocent bystanders. Coffee tastes better with cliché, inventing a secret language and proving its diameter. Mixing breakfast cereals, getting sued. Cold calling the Illuminati at sleepovers to ask if their eye is running, kicking the living sugarpop out of me, inspecting the fluoride for government secrets Sweet Cliché, cheering on the fat man running for the last midnight train, surrounding him when he doesn’t screaming hillbilly poetry on the porch sucking all the light from stars and proudly watching her flower children dance.
Imagining Mona Lisa in the 21 st Century using a SmartPhone Johanna Boal Texting Leonardo, Mona added me in. She wanted to know why he painted her in colours and on paper made from a poplar tree. But not always coping with the predictive text this is what it said lok ike in a smoky rume, grim depre-seive colors a slummy backdrop. leo you maek lok I’m reeking of alcohol with rats & in the gutter My hair loks lank with that blak veil why r mye eyes swollen & cheeeks p..ale? LEooo, you’ve mee in Squarwlor. I text her back- You are priceless Mona Mona tells me I’m saved to her favourites. Her screen saver has a picture of Florence.
Page 3 and 4: Issue #1 March 2016 Edited by Kate
Page 5 and 6: Church of Puppetry Robert Crisp For
Page 7 and 8: iBaroque iDrew my dearest elizabeth
Page 9 and 10: Leona and Keats David Spicer My gir
Page 11 and 12: Mambo Neil Fulwood Strike up the ba
Page 13 and 14: My Mother the Barmaid Never Said Th
Page 15: her body bent first in supplication
Page 19 and 20: The Worn-Out Dancing Shoes Alyson M
Page 21 and 22: Forecourt Carnations Chris Hemingwa
Page 23 and 24: Scarring Jennifer A. McGowan The sl
Page 25 and 26: A November Book Burning Grant Tarba
Page 27 and 28: Keeping Mum Hannah Pyne She whistle
Page 29 and 30: [Jennifer Walks the River] Mary Sto

Picaroon Poetry - Issue #1 - March 2016

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