The Gorko Gazette

part-timer

At the sex shop, you check my ID, even
though I am three months older than you
and you work there. I wink at the camera
over your shoulder and shake the snow
from my hair. You want to show me things—
namely, the Lady Aquarium— and I let you.
Hiding from Suzy’s painted eyes, I admit
into your shoulder that I am a little drunk.
I came here squeezed in the back of our third’s
Mini-Cooper, where I always imagine being
crushed to death, this time behind a boy I
haven’t seen properly since the third grade.
He offered to take the backseat, but he’s got
a foot on me and it just made no damn sense.
Really? you say, pretending to be shocked even
though I am swaying and holding you, and
the inside of me wants to apologize so the outside
of me does. You call me stupid, which means
you love me, and you let me smell all the incense
and laugh when I make faces. Our third buys a toy
and you give her the friends-and-family discount.
I lean over the counter while she picks out a
free tear-away jockstrap that comes with every
purchase and watch you shimmer. The ladies in
the aquarium watch me watch you. The receipt
spits out onto the counter and you tear it, so clean.

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CLICKBAIT

I ATE LIKE AN UNHAPPY WOMAN FOR A WEEK AND THIS IS WHAT I LEARNED

WHY I STOPPED LISTENING TO THE WHISTLING HUM OF THE MORNING— AND WHY YOU SHOULD TOO

HOW TO BREAK A NORMAL HABIT AND FORM A DIAGNOSIBLE ONE

HOT SINGLE WOMEN IN YOUR AREA WANT TO BETTER UNDERSTAND WHY THE BACKS OF THEIR EYELIDS SHOW ONLY FIRECRACKERS WHEN THEY ARE TRYING TO SLEEP

I FOUND GOD IN THE PIANO STRING TENDONS OF MY ACHILLES HEEL AND HE TOLD ME TO START STRETCHING BEFORE I RUN

DO YOU LEAD A PRIVILEGED LIFE? TEN TIPS TO KEEP IT THAT WAY

THE MICROWAVE PLATE SPUN WITH THE DOOR OPEN AND THAT NIGHT, I DREAMT OF NEW COLORS CASCADING THROUGH A POISON DRIP

WHAT TO DO WHEN SOMEONE LOOKS INTO THE OPEN MACHINE OF YOU AND DOES NOT FLINCH

WHAT TO DO WHEN SOMEONE DOES

LOOKING FOR A JOB? USE AI TO SPRUCE UP YOUR RESUME! YOU’LL BE REDUNDANT ALREADY!

THREE WAYS TO STOP IMAGINING THE WAY IN WHICH YOUR FRIEND DIED IN OCTOBER

THERE IS A WAY TO BE READY WHEN THE WATER COMES

I SAW A DEER LOST IN THE ENGINE GUTTER OF A FORD F-150, PLUNGED INTO CIRCUITRY LIKE A SHIP IN A BOTTLE— EVERYTHING BY WAY OF FORCE

IT ALL ENDS, YOU KNOW— ALL OF IT, IT ENDS. ISN’T THAT SORT OF WONDERFUL?

---

sailor

waiting is a sport for the non-players so
I’ll make the end of the world myself
press pretend piano keys and listen for the
slick hum of an angel hitting her vape
a storm siren, a thick-stringed cradle

when my friend’s dad died, she called to tell me
and I still don’t think I deserved that courage
from the choked grass of summer
I saw her on the porch sailing
wooden ventricles on a sky pulse beat
my one good ear pressed to the storm cycle
tracing seasick fish hooks on lake land

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ABOUT THE ARTIST

Hailing from Michigan, Audrey Beaton studied Korean and English with a focus in Creative Writing at the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa. Their work has been published in The Broadkill Review, Cornell’s Rainy Day Literary Magazine, and The Garlic Press. They have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

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Image: P S Krøyer 1899 – Sommeraften ved Skagens strand. Kunstneren og hans hustru.jpg

Peder Severin Krøyer