Issue 3

Joanna Valente

GOD OF THUNDER DIVORCES GOD OF LIGHTNING

god of thunder sends email at 2 am, EST:

thousands of graves were broken into yesterday         
nothing can be saved        I keep drinking coffee
so I can wait for rain         where did this past year go?  
where have you been?

god of lightning feeds tomagatchi, replies to god of thunder at 2:16 am, EST:

my volkswagen was hit by tornado      been frightfully busy
no time 2 even make dinner     our rose garden is blooming
mostly only the white ones                      we have become virgins

god of thunder paces around bedroom for 5 minutes, replies at 2:35 am, EST:

you’re too hot-handed   no one wants       to see half
grown flowers in rows like dead cars          I can’t stop
thinking about all those graves

god of lightning eats godiva chocolate, sends email in response at 2:38 am, EST:

my little sister just sent me a txt            she got laid                                             
by some guy             @ a crustpunk show       she said the room          
tasted like old library books       the couch  was in the shape of a chalice                                 
the man did not speak                                   I wish we still fucked                                    
like that         like crocodiles standing still on telephone wires

god of thunder masturbates to a picture of Ava Gardner, replies at 2:55 am, EST:

my apt is too hot      all my windows      are open     
why have we never gone       to  mardi gras       
you drew so many portraits of your mother    
I still have them stuffed in drawers        567 different versions    
yes I counted      in 1997       we got lost on each other                           
now scientists can control                       the weather                                                  

god of lightning responds to god of thunder via iphone at 3:04 am EST, lies in dark:

you know I never keep sketches                     
I can’t live in my own body                 
with all that paper         it’s like making love    &    
then falling asleep in cum        &   waking up in an abandoned church     
my body doesn’t want to keep spinning    like wagon wheels trying                         
to catch up with a horse


Joanna C. Valente is the author of Sirs & Madams, The Gods Are Dead, Marys of the Sea, Xenos, and the editor of A Shadow Map: An Anthology by Survivors of Sexual Assault.  

Emily Corwin