Size / / /

One day soon

all our lives will resemble what we see in magazines

You will meet her

in a flat above a Paris street

at a table in a Moroccan tea room

lounging beside an inground pool perched

to overlook the electric horizon

of L.A.'s rug of lights

Rug of zebra print

leopard spots

bear head

unfurled beneath her

razor-fresh calves

ruby painted toes

The kind of woman so striking

she alters a room

projects a mood

Containing

not so much beauty

as presence

Imagine if she had command of a bridge

her influence flowing out over the city

Such a woman wants freedom of movement

clothes to house the people she entrances

to fill the skyline of the city she chooses

Daywear

Perhaps this is her best face

somewhat sporty

as penetrating

as expansive

as the sun’s warmth and light

Possess her

buy her vellum shoes

her paper blouse

and printed cardigan sweater

steal her onion skin

decoupage it over your own

Buy a ticket to Italy, Belgium, Dhubai

hunt down her haunts

insert yourself there

as a bookmark between pages

Here

On page 26 you will find

exactly how your life and hair should be

Just stay away from the flame


Elizabeth Lee has a dangerous addiction to catalogs—intervention may be required. She lives outside of New York City, collaging words together at a snail’s pace. Her poems have appeared in The Harrow, Illumen, and Aoife’s Kiss. Forthcoming work will appear this Fall in Paper Crow and Goblin Fruit. Elizabeth can be reached by email at: bethkai@gmail.com



Elizabeth Lee
Current Issue
22 Jul 2024

By: Mónika Rusvai
Translated by: Vivien Urban
Jadwiga is the city. Her body dissolves in the walls, her consciousness seeps into the cracks, her memory merges with the memories of buildings.
Jadwiga a város. Teste felszívódik a falakban, tudata behálózza a repedéseket, emlékezete összekeveredik az épületek emlékezetével.
Aqui jaz a rainha, gigante e imóvel, cada um de seus seis braços caídos e abertos, curvados, tomados de leves espasmos, como se esquecesse de que não estava mais viva.
By: Sourav Roy
Translated by: Carol D'Souza
I said sky/ and with a stainless-steel plate covered/ the rotis going stale 
मैंने कहा आकाश/ और स्टेनलेस स्टील की थाली से ढक दिया/ बासी पड़ रही रोटियों को
By: H. Pueyo
Translated by: H. Pueyo
Here lies the queen, giant and still, each of her six arms sprawled, open, curved, twitching like she forgot she no longer breathed.
Issue 15 Jul 2024
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