New York Tyrant

Two Poems
by Sarah Jean Grimm

Jordan Castro

Two Poems <br>by Sarah Jean Grimm</br>

À REBOURS

The best intention is a dark thought in a dark room

The body has temples

And my skull is a cathedral 

Hiding me behind a face I do not choose

My default expression is worried

People are always asking me what’s wrong

I dole out assurances

But what is wrong


Three Poems
by Kelly Schirmann

Jordan Castro

Three Poems <br>by Kelly Schirmann</br>

Dream of Relevancy

Everyone knows
what their life should be
and also that it isn’t

I watched a video of a woman
saying money was a river
and another video of a man
saying money was the devil

He was weeping and spitting

Which is more true?


On Submission and the Waves
by Lily Hoang

Jordan Castro

Comments 1

On Submission and the Waves <br>by Lily Hoang</br>
The youngest, we are always the final birth, a coda. 
     This is how the fairy tale goes: I was so small at birth that the hospital diapers did not fit me. As proof, my mother kept one on the high shelf in my father’s closet—hers being too full—in our old house.
     This is how the fairy tale goes: the Little Mermaid was also the youngest. 
     This is how the fairy tale goes: use us. We are yours to use, tarnished though we are, we are here for only you. 
     This is how the fairy tale goes: in Virginia Woolf’s The Waves, Louis said, “I am always the youngest, the most innocent, the most trustful. You are all protected. I am naked.”

Woosh Hum
by Joseph Grantham

Jordan Castro

Woosh Hum <br>by Joseph Grantham</br>

A couple years ago I tried to kill myself.

It was when I was in the throes of it with her.

I can tell you her name.

No.

Anyway, I woke up in a hospital bed.

A murky face high above me, a face like the sun.

It was her.

“You’re not allowed to do that,” she said. “You know that, right? You can’t do that.”

I was in a hospital gown. 

There was a plastic yellow wristband around my right wrist.

“You can’t call me and tell me you’re going to kill yourself and then call my mom and tell her that you called me to tell me that you’re going to kill yourself and then actually kill yourself.”


Two Poems
by Daniel Bailey

Jordan Castro

Two Poems <br>by Daniel Bailey</br>

THE WATERFALLNESS OF THE WATER

YOU LOOK DOWN TO FIND THE MOSQUITO STILL ATTACHED TO YOUR FOOT

IT HAS DIED AND IS NOW STUCK THERE

YOU CALL YOUR SPIRITUAL SUPERVISOR TO ASK FOR ADVICE

YOU FEEL WATER OPENING UMBRELLAS IN YOUR CELLS

SOMEONE SAYS, “I’VE WITNESSED SO MUCH CHANGE IN MY LIFE THAT I WISH I COULD JUST THROW IT ALL IN THE TIP BUCKET AND BE JUST A LITTLE OF WHAT I WAS BEFORE NOW”

SOMEONE ELSE DESCRIBES HOW THE STARS OR MOON WILL APPEAR TONIGHT AND TELLS US WHEN WE WILL SEE THE NEXT METEOR SHOWER AND IN WHAT PART OF THE SKY


We are not currently looking at unsolicited submissions for publication at Tyrant Books. Please check back at a later date or have your agent contact us at contact@nytyrant.com.

Thank you -Gian


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