ISSUE EIGHT: Melty Slayers | next poem →

It Will Be Alive

Laurin DeChae

“I am thy creature: I ought to be thy Adam,
but I am rather the fallen angel,
whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed."
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein



Communion-tongued serpent up for last call. A soul smoker.
I’m new to the touch, a spitting image, forked and sober-split.

We could lose ourselves at the heart of sacrilege
if we count time together on the leaves of clovers, split.

You’ve branded me with bloodstains and a heart that won’t quit
look at me, all rosy, ripped open. Hold me closer or split.

The universe will be alive and biting, distorting the heavens,
raising hell in the underground seducing angels to float and split.

No absolutes: the word, the word. And here I am,
calling on God: to make me. Make me a solar shaker—split.

Laurin DeChae is a M.F.A. candidate for poetry at the University of New Orleans, where she acts as the associate editor for Bayou Magazine. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Harpur Palate, Cleaver Magazine, burntdistrict, S/WORD, Rose Red Review, and Rust + Moth.

ISSUE EIGHT: Melty Slayers | next poem →













ISSUE Eight: Melty Slayers

Laurin DeChae
   Snakes & Ladders
   It Will Be Alive

Jessie Janeshek
   Future Girls with Bikinis
     beneath Bruce Springsteen Tees

Samantha Duncan
   Juliet

Kenzie Allen
   According to Science

Jessy Randall
   Here comes a poor woman
      from baby-land

   Here comes an old woman,
     nimble namble

Ruben Rodriguez
   Because I’m Bad Ass and
      I Said So

Colleen Coyne
   Echolocation

Rob Cook
   Unmarked Neural Pathways
   Keratoconus

Jon Riccio
   The Area Code for ESP

Jennifer MacBain-Stephens
   Solstice

Roger Williams
   Come Eleven

Matthew Johnstone
   Boatship: Port Layout Gossips

Daniel Schwartz
   Out/Night

Amy Carlberg
   Desktop

Ana Prundaru
   Embody the State of the World