1. Like my love life, L.A. is in a perpetual state of drought.
It’s a crime to water the lawn.
2. Rumors of coyotes overrun the neighborhood. (More …)
Alexis Rhone Fancher
Alexis Rhone Fancher is the author of How I Lost My Virginity To Michael Cohen and other heart stab poems (2014), State of Grace: The Joshua Elegies (2015), and Enter Here (2017). She’s published in Best American Poetry 2016, Rattle, Plume, Nashville Review, Hobart, Diode, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. Her photographs are published worldwide. A multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, Alexis is poetry editor of Cultural Weekly. She lives in Los Angeles.
The only people who call it ‘Cali’ are from someplace else.
by Alexis Rhone Fancher
I want to pinpoint the moment it all went south.
1. My sister blames her ex’s bad genes.
Sometimes she blames the media.
2. When Anna was 12 we sat in the dark in Van Nuys,
watched Thelma & Louise self-ignite.
Brad Pitt’s the perfect man,
my niece said more than once.
Headstrong, even then. (More …)
I Audition For The Belly Dancer Job While My Purebred Siamese Lily Gets Laid
by Alexis Rhone Fancher
I gyrate like Little Egypt in my haram pants and diaphanous veil.
The lessons with Fatima have paid off.
But it’s the minefield between the restaurant’s bar and the stage.
Barefoot, my limp is even more pronounced.
Last night I watched two cats humping.
One of them was mine. Like me, she’s been in an accident.
Like me, her bum leg makes her an easy target. (More …)