SUBMISSIONS

Submissions are accepted on a regular basis, year-round.
Can include, short stories, essays, poetry and prose.
Must not exceed 3,000 words.
Must be written by a current ESA student, or alumni.
Submissions are accepted: e.s.say.says@gmail.com

Tuesday 19 April 2016

Stand by Olivia Mokrzycki

(I wouldn't hear you if you called.
It was the loneliest time of day
The time in which the hydro fields soaked up and reflected orange lights from the streets
Not wet, but soon)

Still and silent

Exposed to far more interesting creatures than bees and Devils
Clawing at my ankles, chewing on the bones above my chest

Still and silent

Gentle arms raising what's left of them
Swaying themselves through drafty winds until the creatures fall and dash into the dusk

If you listened there was always something to hear
Soft humming or shrieking
Burning through your skull right to your brain

Eyes rolling all the way back to check on the sounds
Geared to find a woman laughing, dull piano, barely a difference in notes
Barely coloured,  grimy and fleshy sides in the skull, echoing words, extended
Running on as if chasing each other, useless words

"No place no bed no her but time and jabs and stabs a kiss and piss and shameful miss the arms the eyes so red so blind a fear a style in grave denial and ears to hear but left unheard for birth'd be better left undid go charge your mind a shrivelled lie and lie and lie your name is what, what is it, child? You've got a life to chose a name don't buy it"

Losing balance in the field, glowing white eyes, pupils still facing the brain
Blood rushing straight to it as if the body was turned upside down
Swaying, still with the arms, side to side like a floating raft
Always something behind, felt at my back
leaving me soft tracks, dirt marks

But not holding me up, letting me think
Counting pauses between breaths and chills

Parent by Olivia Mokrzycki

Sweetest cherry on the tree, 
trembling hands reach up to pick it
Same hands that tuck me in
Same hands that wake me up
Glossy browns
in her eyes and her hair
Chasing me around the chair
Running the bath
Too hot, too hot, too cold
Slow tone, rustling inside us
soft purrs from our lips
eyes closed, arms to the sun
the blood of a collected love
told stories through dances, through songs
Taught me more than mother did,
Always will 


fine by Anonymous

Fucked
standing on the yellow strip
metallic earthworm eating dead spirits
decomposed aspiration consumed
like a baby swallowing potential
unsure if it is ethical to feed on breast milk


Interior
way too in my head
the immortality of the jellyfish
is ironic because they lack brains
to pursue higher knowledge
or to recall the infinite they have seen


Nice
smile to be polite
or an absent minded greeting
but nothing more than pleasantries
which goes a long way along with hope
false yet sought after for self delusions


Exterior
happy days
ethereal carcinogens
two armed octopus breathing fire
stitching skin back together
in it for the fry


hollow words heavy tongue
monotony and ebb and flow
wear away the rock
still just saying fine
avoidance of conversing

past the point of unfeeling familiarity

Untitled by Anonymous

i had a pair of socks
one got a h le
the other moved on
probably behind the washing machine


but socks are apathetic little bastards
indifferent to its dusty prison behind the dryer
it doesnt care that it is just an average white fabric
because it doesnt have the capacity to think to care


i once cried because of a sock
but it was a name
a person
not an article of clothing
and not emotionless
and they spoke so beautifully

despite the fact they had a hole as well

Sill by Anonymous

Urine soaked sponge
Bloody knuckle brick
Bundle of blankets


Dust floats from ceiling
Moans rattle through pipes
Old building settling with couple



Baby bird perched on concrete
First born avis walk on eggshells


Crushed embryos of siblings
Eating mother’s regurgitate


Taxidermied lineage


Frail little bird hollow bones hollow head


They finish upstairs
Cardinal flies into red brick wall

Messy scarlet clump

Friday 1 April 2016