Ataraxia Vol. 7

Ataraxia

Vol. 7• July/201 4

selected literature with illustrations

Old ScarfRack Door

by Chris Drew

crept darling sky birdy the little 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 little 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 jostling cumbersome silly 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’ll get back on it.

I’ll get back on it I will I’ve just not got time ... right now.

butterflies by simi and jamie

by Simi and Jamie

sometimes i wonder how many butterflies 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 all the souls of the butterflies 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 butterflies perished on 9/11 where is their memorial what time zone has the largest population of LGBT butterflies

was steve erwin a butterfly i don't even like butterflies my mom is a butterfly love is like a butterfly

Zen as Fuck

by Harry Taylor

My head is peace also undulating all night hallucinogen 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 little pillars rise from the beach at my sides muddy pockets contain only a carved buddha and an apple core...one for each pillar 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

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