Ataraxia

Vol. 7• July/201 4

selected literature with illustrations

Old ScarfRack Door

by Chris Drew

crept darl ing sky

birdy

the l ittle beaked love stars

that twinkle on the other side

of those clouds

and the ground crunches

when you walk

I am eternally deodorized

and hot water’d

these dead stalks were our

tomato plants

or the tomato plants

those. . .

beauty orion peeking out

five cop cars on the corner

blanket the ground for our sitting

cross-legged with closed eyes

and later l ittle ice cubes

high

driving home

and above the clouds and the stars

ol ’ beginning of time radiation!

this car seat warmers business outstanding!

and

how old are candles?

i forgot to ask

dotted up sheet of paper

for good

for ever with some pink and blue spectacle

jostl ing cumbersome sil ly

folded and laughing shadows

old scarf rack

door

Flat Spot

by Jim Gibson

We used ta skate everyday and try to cause carnage

Enywer we could

jus 4 the piss tek

There wo’ more things to do

When uneducated we rode

Just chuckin stuff at pigeons

n eatin mcdonalds

Now I can’t stand Macdonalds

And I wouldn’t hurt a pigeon

I hardly even smoke weed anymore

It makes me a bit parra

So I just go out at weekends

Every weekend on the piss

See my skateboard when I get home

And promise myself I ’ l l get back on it.

I ’ l l get back on it

I wil l

I ’ve just not got time

. . . right now.

butterflies by simi and jamie

by Simi and Jamie

sometimes i wonder how many butterfl ies died the day i

was born

and what were their names

who were their parents

and did they ever know what planets were

did they die thinking pluto was a planet

where are they now

in a frame

in the dust

in a big mac

did al l the souls of the butterfl ies who died the day you

were born

mesh together to form you

how many of them knew the sound of their own

father's voice

how many died in vain

i wonder what they would've thought about prop 8

how many butterfl ies perished on 9/11

where is their memorial

what time zone has the largest population of LGBT

butterfl ies

was steve erwin a butterfly

i don't even like butterfl ies

my mom is a butterfly

love is l ike a butterfly

Zen as Fuck

by Harry Taylor

My head is peace

also undulating al l night hal lucinogen hangover

feels gooooood

I 'm brushing off the dust as sunlight tiptoes down leaves

like I 'm 5

dreadlocked youth slumped in hammocks, unzipped

tents, the ground

tie dye tapestries and jam band equipment looking

gnarly in the squinty morning

my confused and upset soles tread tenderly through

campsite gravel toward river

whoa dude

the beach populated by stone spirits, rocks and boulders

stacked atop another forming odd towers

collapsing amidst the water gods I stop existing in the

lotus position

slowly

humble l ittle pi l lars rise from the beach at my sides

muddy pockets contain only a carved buddha and an apple

core. . .one for each pil lar

for three days they sunbathe before passers-by

no one steals the statue, nothing eats the apple

everything is good

everything is beautiful

Ataraxia is a monthly zine organized, edited,

and printed by Rasasvada. We publish various

projects online and in limited paper copies.

Find more poems, stories, articles, art

and info about submitting your own work

at rasasvada.net

thanks for reading,

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