World by Lisa Barton I do not want to be your reliable laid back afterthought so cool-stylish-composed there is more I have insides to my insides and some ain’t pretty I want the same things what you keep for sacred dears you exalted for no purpose decorating your landscape with pink flamingos bordered by tiki torches I am ferociousearthshattering radiantnakeduncompromising impatientunsatiatedsensuality lovingfightingembracingglorious life in a frame of bone and meat barely contained, full to bursting pushing you towards recognition carving out MY landscape crushing your fucking flamingos and setting the shards on fire Careening by Lisa Barton I’m riding the bronco on a most runaway out-of-control carousel playing calliope music slightly off key pulsing nightclub dancer disco bass thumps into my most exposed mind I tilt-sway-snap the jerks shake me out of brief soft focus reveries of warm arms pulling my shaky frame into slow motion b...
Flying Island is the Online Literary Journal of the Indiana Writers Center, accepting submissions from Midwest residents and those with significant ties to the Midwest.