Header artwork by Sugar Smallhouse

kailey tedesco


Remember the first time you heard
of the woman who licks up entrails

of static? Television
eyes roll from the loud snows & she eats

in synthesis, but not digestion. Her long legs
& long hair coil together like a fungus –

it is a beauty you flagellate to
in your blue gown & dark lips. It is

meals served in rotted meringue, roaring &
staining the gown & chaise. Lie there

as you remember her body & her grave. The body
is the holy spirit & mother & maiden,

the body is filled with opiates that taste so much
like delicious blades. It is a beauty

that threads salted circles through the dead –
It preserves, but

it hurts.


Kailey Tedesco lives next to one hundred trains. Her books She Used to be on a Milk Carton (April Gloaming Publications) and These Ghosts of Mine, Siamese (Dancing Girl Press) are both forthcoming. She is the editor-in-chief of Rag Queen Periodical and a performing member of the NYC Poetry Brothel. Her poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. In 2016, she received her MFA in poetry from Arcadia University where she has since taught English. You can find her work featured or forthcoming in Prelude, Prick of the Spindle, Bellevue Literary Review, Rogue Agent, Vanilla Sex Magazine, and more. For more information, please visit kaileytedesco.com