“/sound/” & “/number/” By: Jennifer MacBain-Stephens

There is no continental noise to xx. Glacial voice elevates between top teeth and soft palate, swallow inbox groans. No matter how hard one tries to expel nomenclature, the minor keys linger in an all-night gas station. My lovely contagion, wifi, beep beep bops its way to a century of silent films. Bottomless lust shattered commercials in outer space. My xx cannot nail down a simple one minute sound bite. I will announce how symbolic this is. My xx is not my xx when simon says it to the masses. Channel seven stole my cat who ate the wishbone and regurgitated into smart phones and protest signs. My xx is smarter than your online chat but too emotional to practice an off switch. My xx makes a boom boom base –no bronze hat rat tat tats. No virtue. Its sound cloud carves up pavement and old fashioned pool halls. My xx knows no resignation, emanates rage the exact moment lips get caught in a zipper. My xx is the feeling of bombastedness – stand back, play back that base.
The number of Modigliani eyes nailed to the wall are one because ghost eyes drill one periscope tunneling through a common core in a vacant landscape. Spiders have eight eyes but they are too gross to scrutinize. How big can I make my eyes so you look into them? Another trick is who wants one? And for what? There is one for the road and one for my baby and one quick one. It’s never just one. My xx lays still for one hour, rakes consequences over eye masked faces. It’s a secret for my xx to hold between her legs in the half dark. My xx hears the ghost cry for too many molecules to burst to measure time in human time. My xx measures ghost time crying in paper bag houses decorated with blue construction paper and white windows for multiple eyes opening and closing in sync. When one window closes, they all do.
Jennifer MacBain-Stephens went to NYU but currently lives in the DC area with her family. She is the author of three chapbooks: Every Her Dies (ELJ Publications,) Clotheshorse (Finishing Line Press, 2014,) and Backyard Poems (Dancing Girl Press, 2015.) Recent work can be seen / is forthcoming at Toad Suck Review, Red Savina Literary Review, The Poetry Storehouse, Bareknuckle Poet: Journal of Letters, Quail Bell Magazine, Diverse Voices Quarterly, Flapperhouse, Pretty Owl Poetry, Yes, Poetry, and Hobart. Her latest chapbook, Jeanne , was a finalist in the Grey Book Press chapbook contest and the recent Blood Pudding Press contest. For more, visit: http://jennifermacbainstephens.wordpress.com/.

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