♥L♥e♥e♥c♥h♥
Lillian Mottern
The arms manufacturer is moonlighting as a poet, or at least some kind of meme artist, and the would-be writers are all turning into beetles as his guests do coke off the sleeve of a collectible copy of Joni Mitchell’s Blue on the sofa. In the bathroom, there are only mirrors no floor and a bottle of benzos and animals kept in a glass terrarium and a leopard stuffed and a hung-up mirror covered in hooker lipgloss kisses which have been collecting mildew like warehouse silk.
Oh, God please take me up to heaven and by heaven I mean please take me out of this city and deposit me in the forest to grow lean and gentle. I will kiss the soil a thousand times, and grow religious in some fashion, and I will then be clean and then I will try it all again but this time I’ll be smarter. There is some hedonism, there is some tragedy, there is something wrong, there is something beyond this city where we have too much, maybe there is something to be said for noticing it all.
Lillian Mottern is a writer from Los Angeles. Her writing has been featured in Spectra, The Big One, Wigleaf, Waif, and The Living Room, among others. She is co-editor of Perennial Magazine and curates the experimental lit project Future Darling.