Pulse Issue 2: 2023


by: Elijah Harrison

tw: gore

I half expect purple

When I spit,

Or red and blue intertwined

Into a satanic scrunchie,

All my fies gliding and seeping

Down into the other,

Sliding through the under,

Twisting to the glistening beneath,

Where it grows more legs than me

And joins all I’ve ever been afraid of,

My representative,

My demon,

A parasitic pet,

Draining the drains

And wetting the wetter

Parts of what is hidden

Beneath our floorboards

And beneath our minds.

You’d better be ready for me to bite you,

Because my teeth aren’t coming back with me.

Elijah Magdalene Harrison is a writer and multidisciplinary artist who creates poems, zines, artist books, prints, installations, and sound art. They work with themes of queerness, nature, horror, and visibility.