Short, Fast, and Deadly
i47
Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela
31 October 2010
Featuring:
Robert Boaz
Howie Good
Kevin Heaton
R. Kulesz
Robert Laughlin
Kenyon Ledford
Shriram Sivaramakrishnan
Copyright © 2010 by Individual Authors
All Rights Reserved
« September 2010 | Main | November 2010 »
Scream
and I turned.
All I had was a yellowed
vision, vivid;
like a desert
captured at noon
with a single black tree
at its center,
it blinked--
by Shriram Sivaramakrishnan of Chennai
Slow Night at the Comedy Club
A bear and a junkie fight for a slice of pizza. It’s always worth coming to New York, he tells the Friday night crowd, see you last week! Plm-chh! says Goldie. Kraszki orders a soda. Truer words were never spoken thru falser teeth! Buh-chang! Like the grave, Goldie says, tossing a hot tea-bag over his shoulder. It hits the counter-guy on the neck and he screams in pain like a Chinese Chaplin. It’s funny.
by R. Kulesz of Queens
Nashville
Where a guitar pickin’
plucked chicken
goes to wait tables
and get southern fried.
by Kevin Heaton of Aiken
Cue the Polka Band
Cold waves slap the sand and the sun's too pale to tan. The water's unfriendly and the girls are gone. The twilight's all apples and pumpkins. I'm sat on a towel with an unopened book pining for peaches and watermelon.
by Kenyon Ledford of Ojai
Raymond Carver
No tricks?
Ask the magicians
and animal trainers
on the breadline
where that got them.
by Robert Laughlin of Chico
Andre's Atonement
Paroled, Andre Mann erected a carousel in the ghetto. Calliope music. Painted horses. Grinning children escaping reality. Andre’s atonement amid concrete, glass, graffiti, gangs and guns. The past rolls by in a gold trimmed low rider. Windows down. Shots fired. Four bullets in Andre. Single bullets in three children and a mom. Today there is a faded circus mural on a brick wall in front of drug dealers.
by Robert Boaz of St. Charles
Like a Hand in an Empty Pocket
I’ve been lost in the woods,
I step into the up elevator.
I lift the barbell with a grunt.
Wildflowers grow
at the edge of the traffic.
by Howie Good of Highland
Short, Fast, and Deadly
i46
Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela
24 October 2010
Featuring:
Paul Vincent Andrews
Aliza Greenblatt
Robert Laughlin
m.g. martin
George T. Mormann
Christina Rodriguez
Jenny Rossi
Copyright © 2010 by Individual Authors
All Rights Reserved
We Fall Asleep in Water
take me to the delta
wrap me in taro leaf
give me back
i don't want to
burden the sun
again.
by m.g. martin of San Francisco
At the Last Moment
We hold each other close, a perfect dancing pose. The stars above us twinkle and the wind around us blows. Our dance is causing my skirt to defy gravity and his shirt to come undone. All modesty is lost, my head is tucked under his chin. This is our moment, our last moment, I say, the first truth I’ve told him. But he will never know that.
We are falling, dancing and the earth rises up to meet us.
by Aliza Greenblatt of Devon
Shuttle from Rockaway Park
The Devil eats children
sunflower seeds & Malibu
under dirty subway lights
making us laugh like
stretched t-s hanging over
a drunk man's knee
by Christina Rodriguez of Queens
Sweet Disasters of our Prophetic Youth
We stuck armymen's plastic bases into sandbox battlefields and burned them into green and tan casualties with your daddy's bic lighter.
by George T. Mormann of Joliet
A Director Retires
He announced that his final play would express his final opinion of human affairs, after a lifetime of experience and deliberation. Secretly, he had already decided on The Tempest.
That night, he finally met his future son-in-law.
The next day, he announced that he would direct King Lear.
by Robert Laughlin of Chico
Clocking out at 12:35 a.m.
When cigarettes no longer bring you pleasure
try madness,
the obituaries,
or bad customer service.
by Jenny Rossi of Newport
Zelda on France
Most never get a room of one’s own or drown eternally on Pernod with Zelda weeping. Scott wakes up, takes a sip, types a few words about moving glows, empty mansions, and ferry boats. Zelda runs in, nervous and hot. "Scott all you do is type and drink with that limp dick of yours." "Things were harder in Paris." "Fuck You." "Can’t, typing."
by Paul Vincent Andrews of Detroit
Short, Fast, and Deadly
i45
Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela
17 October 2010
Featuring:
Judy Shepps Battle
Chloe Caldwell
M. R. Carter
Michael Donoghue
Steven Gulvezan
Eric Kenron
Caroline Maun
Copyright © 2010 by Individual Authors
All Rights Reserved
View From Mezzanine
People pass
seek glory of choice
not obligation
I wince
at my reflection
magnificently expanded
clearly distorted and
slightly unsettling.
by Judy Shepps Battle of Kendall Park
Running From Your Situation
Em wrote the book on trail running, it was now in its 12th edition, even though she had given it up. Em’s Achilles’ heel was her Achilles’ heel, so now she was married to the idea of being married. Still, as she opened the dishwasher and saw the spoons spooning, she craved the trail run. For grisly encounters with grisly bears and firing up the fire. Now there was no more running. She sighed and reached for a spoon.
by Michael Donoghue of Vancouver
Omission of the Moon
The arctic air rolls north, perpetual like a vacuum sucking snow from southern lands. My back is against a steady breeze, lively in my venture.
This time of year, there is all-day illumination here, caught between the pastures of playtime and constantly forgetting what time to go to bed.
I awake each morning; thick shades mask the sun.
When will it be time to go out and see the moon shine on snow banks and Moose tracks?
by M. R. Carter of Hagerstown
