Tanya Rakh was born on the outskirts of time and space in a cardboard box. After extensive planet-hopping, she currently makes her home near Houston, Texas where she writes poetry, surrealist prose, and cross-genre amalgamations. Her writing has appeared in numerous journals including The Gasconade Review, Redshift 4, Literary Orphans, Fearless, Yes, Poetry, and The Rye Whiskey Review. Tanya is the author of two books: Hydrogen Sofi and Wildflower Hell, new editions of both available from Posthuman Poetry & Prose.
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Proverbs 34 By Catherine Zickgraf
Wise women have said bongs do not belong in bed. At least take heed to hold in all the holes should you tilt or turn. And if you decid...
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"Hey, is your mag open to submissions?" I run a daily unless the voices tell me not to because they want to party. "The mag i...
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But the pain knows not an intrusion of verse. Strangled is the falsehood our lives unmasked perverse. Its deadline’s communion I guess I ult...
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Two Jacksons or Four sawbucks Up front—$40. No credit cards, no I.D.; Beyond, beneath, Battered neon lights The Blues Hotel Weathered time’s...
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