Taxidermy by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

When I die I want to be stuffed stuffed and mounted on the wall like some poor old deer who got caught in the headlights Not just the antlers mind you but the whole fucking catastrophe― glass eyes mop of hair scars stretching beyond Wyoming Gutted by the skin of my teeth like dead animals and birds I want to be filled with that special fake something―that makes me look like I’m alive―the stuff that dreams are … Continue reading Taxidermy by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioSeptember 28, 2022September 28, 2022Leave a comment

Poetry

When You Are On the Menu by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

It begins with an itch then another and another– those screaming red eruptions on arms legs and unmentionables (Isn’t life a bitch!) the tell-tale sign of corruption– bloodstains on your pillow the viscous film of wet dream on your shrinking fitted sheets Who are they? these creeps these mites small flat parasites big appetites that live in dark places alleyways hidden spaces who feed off you in excess before they retire to the comfort of your bed where they enjoy easy access Yum while you lay … Continue reading When You Are On the Menu by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioMay 9, 2022Leave a comment

Poetry

What’s Left? by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

They hand you a handout…a look a number…a label a social identity that passes for you They call you they and them— Black people poor people gay people other people They add on ‘’people’’ to distinguish you from White Western male majority They can’ t help being like that They were born that way Do unto others before they do unto you Go ahead make duplicates only I’ll keep the original I anonymously yours am at a loss Coiled in my shell—a cheap hotel or is it … Continue reading What’s Left? by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioSeptember 2, 2020September 2, 20201 Comment

Poetry

The Illusionist by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

I present to you an ordinary mirror– a poem in which I will attempt to recreate a memory before your very eyes–a dangerous disguiseI must warn you nowdon’t try this at home I am after all only a reflection of youThe black dye leaking from my brain is not real merely the faint imaging of a cheap out-of-date copy machinewet with promiseThe blood leaking from … Continue reading The Illusionist by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioApril 28, 20201 Comment

Poetry

Domestic Goddess by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

He kicked the catout the windowCarved her goldfishup like sushiDinner wasn’t ready on time He wanted it nowAnd I do mean NOW ! Ordered her uppink as rare beef—one tender homemakersimmered in silenceSwallowed her wholeone day at a time The day he beat herbeyond definitionshe navigated commandsin her state-of-the-art kitchenin her gingham apronher cellophane smile She had binge-cleaned and purgedthe entire apartment–worshipping at the altarin bulimic … Continue reading Domestic Goddess by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioDecember 22, 2019December 22, 20191 Comment

Poetry

Sp-eyes by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

They’re everywhere– here therein restaurants in schools in mosques your closet your bed your last paragraph– those curious question marks! Spies with eyes in the back of their headare tracking you like the CIAlike a jealous lover like a digitalized numberon an overnight package Big Brother surveillance cameras the eyes of your computer the eyes of strangers Facebook Twitter Instagramstalking you like a wet dream At the doctor’s office even the stethoscope knows your real name and … Continue reading Sp-eyes by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioOctober 27, 2019October 27, 2019Leave a comment

Poetry

Glass Nobodies by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Medusa–from Greek; protectress; guardian The owl and the pussycat went out to sea in a beautiful pea-green boat –Edward Lear 1. How I drowned in my mother’s tears alone and unrocked is the part of the story I leave out– how we shivered and swayed in the shadow of the storm how hurricanes had nothing on my father ! Shiver and sway shiver and sway … Continue reading Glass Nobodies by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioJune 22, 2017June 23, 20175 Comments

Poetry

“smoke” by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

in the pale blue hours of the morning dying streetlamps like fading dreams of ghosts haunt lonely drifters who drag the street nicotine fingers and tattooed promises– the human stains of memory that burn deep and what lingers… how the rear-view mirror reflected in the corner of his eye how the light died beneath my feet Continue reading “smoke” by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioOctober 5, 2016Leave a comment