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Caged aged face

A deaf bed begged


Bag a cab.

A gade fed beef

Gade bade a face aged


Please click this link to hear the song.


boiling water in your face!

the number of the Beast?

11:32 pm

the IFC was playing Perfect Blue

the usher told us the wrong theater

goodbye is too forlorn drive safe

my kidneys are a cauldron my skull 

the slush pile

a zipper will always break no matter 

the pants and the new ones 

won’t fit either

i’m going to ashes for a bit

one roach in my lips

one wriggling on the concrete


Dr. Danilova says my sesamoid bones are swollen.

Until now bones were a promise unyielding.

I limp through Washington Square Park in my surgical shoe.

The drummer: ba-Dum. ba-Dum. ba-Dum.

I see a man wearing a flat-topped hat like a birthday cake.

I want to tell you but I’m always in the elevator when you call.

Leafing through the mini-fridge. Sweaty almond milk and clammy lo mein. 

Are you tucked behind the bell pepper?

It’s 4 pm again.

Too late for lunch, too early for dinner.


i sit at the 60-foot grand piano

blindingly vantablack

reflective of nothing. absorption

of all who gaze into it

except those who sit in front of the glass keyboard

fingers poised.

i have never seen the sheet music

jamie lee curtis places in front of me

but she looks expectant and i

am loath to disappoint her.

my fingers begin to move but it seems

the string between my brain and hands

is cut.

my sight-reading is shabby.

i should’ve practiced more.

i should practice more.

jamie is eating yogurt 

and laying on the piano now.

she looks so good




Aliza Haskal is a 22-year old English student in Virginia. She recently won a University Poetry Prize from the Academy of American Poets and is looking forward to publications in The Spectre Review, The Lunar Journal, and Diphthong Lit. More writing can be found on her blog: and Instagram: @lcd.aliza.

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