Dive Back Down | j/j hastain & Juliet Cook

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j/j hastain is the inventor of The Mystical Sentence Projects and is author of several cross-genre books including the trans-genre book libertine monk (Scrambler Press), Apophallation Sketches (MadHat Press), Luci: a Forbidden Soteriology (Black Radish Books), The Non-Novels (Spuyten Duyvil) and The Xyr Trilogy: a Metaphysical Romance of Experimental Realisms. j/j’s writing has most recently appeared in Caketrain, TrickhouseThe CollagistHousefireBombay Gin, Aufgabe and Tarpaulin Sky



Juliet Cook's poetry has appeared in a multitude of literary publications, recently including FLAPPERHOUSE, Ghost Proposal, H_NGM_N, ILK, and Menacing Hedge. She is the author of more than thirteen published poetry chapbooks, most recently including POISONOUS BEAUTYSKULL LOLLIPOP (Grey Book Press, 2013), RED DEMOLITION (Shirt Pocket Press, 2014) and a collaborative chapbook with Robert Cole, MUTANT NEURON CODEX SWARM (Hyacinth Girl Press, 2015). Cook's first full-length poetry book, Horrific Confection was published by BlazeVOX in 2008 and her second full-length poetry book, Malformed Confetti, is forthcoming from Crisis Chronicles Press later in 2015.   You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.




Paradoxical Dive Back Down


Christen by chrism

chasing unattainable

chastity. Graft a suit

to assist you with the state

of your wrists.


Drizzling splayed fluff

or is it blood combined with moon silver?


They can tell you you’re splatter painting down

the steeples but you’re creating your own

red toned ventricles

your own everlasting tome.


Who knew the body could be

so much? Who will hold

the splayed sides of the casket

for your next body (p)art?


Me myself and I?

Charm school/chasm/eyeballs

burst out and fly

off the rails.

Were guardrails
supposed to keep things
on the road? Or be bent
as ramps to shoot         
moving amples
up like chutes. We
are making our way toward
flight and it keeps making us
ricochet out spires that shoot

spores instead of bullets: a relief
a reason to keep
on in the name of Gaia

Whether in fracture
or in frith how do we contain

our oscillating umbilicus

and what if

he or she

did in fact

jump off,



Into the boiling sea,

every bit of skin sizzling

collarbones steaming

voice box glinting out

undulating sting rays

wrapped around mons

venus heat, (non)human meat

sparkling waves of killer teeth.


Paradise found.