Mirror Earth


We were bored


So the rapists       mowed the lawns

So we were all captains    of a land

            so we were

      each steering the fates

      of one clunky body

      and it’s collisions


So symmetry is a strange    game

as in    where there is a magnet

things fly

      to it    and soon we are all in

            the same bed


So there is always the drug tunnel, the tunnel

      of drugs and it’s damp-drug glow

      was warmer than the hallucinations

      of the very, very cold.      Even sand

      has died of thirst       long ago


            And by who’s hand


can I take this exoskeleton,    this ship

and the next one

and the next

and say, we are filled with the same    invisible


      electric snow

like meeting      your own                  ghost

like admitting,  yes

I am a conscientious human,      but I still

do these six things


      And I’ll bet we can name them, too

      All six




Catherine Zeta-Narcissist


Men in the ambiguous flesh lake

know me,        and my weakness

is hardly       your business.

I am all.  I am         leaning

            on the wicked.


Ladies in the lake come out as if

you are the only world       in the world!

I said, be your own cotton cake

and nobody’s       badger!


      So squirm

between the saving

and the silt

and haunt them

like culture

      like icing



so thick and so

sweet nobody

wants it



Marie Coma-Thompson is a writer and painter currently living in Louisville, KY. She is interested in expanding consciousness through meditation, music, and creative practices. She has been a featured reader at the Speak Social reading series as well as a featured emerging writer at the InKY series.  She lives with her husband and their three giant, buddha-like cats.


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Cover image: Chrystal Berche