Short, Fast, and Deadly

Short, Fast, and Deadly

i92

ISSN: 2163-0712 

Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela

11 September 2011

 

Featuring:

David Tomaloff

Aholaah Arzah 

William J Fedigan

Nicole Heredia

Ella Larkin

Will Sharp

Kirby Wright

 

Copyright © 2011 by Individual Authors

All Rights Reserved

Searle's Poem

That girl over there in the corner is a block of ice.

by Will Sharp of San Antonio

Resurrection

Blue light timpani
on a stilled heart drum.
Te deum-Te deum-Te deum.
Canticle on ventricle.
That repellent pulse - still visible.

by Ella Larkin of Norwich

Law of Life

Why waste regimens if boundaries are meant to be broken, everything is complicated my love. Why make shrews’ ragweed’s that leave your logic spinning, the words delight my love. You just have to understand my allegories and you’ll know my purpose, nothing is eternal, and everything returns my love.

by Nicole Heredia of Hagerstown

All the Blotched Battles and Preconceptions Overturned

The parking lot is full, other eager bees in hieroglyphic holding pattern. Oh, the contusion of blooms, polka dot Mylar balloons, the bloody boxes of chocolates! Who first leered into pulse and spurt and built a steeple to those hollowed chambers? Sometimes in inchoate openings, forced zippers, the sprung ribcage of typewriter keys; all the dumb nubs beating out of kilter in aggregate.

by Aholaah Arzah of Port Townsend

Eye Doc

I limp short, ghost calves straining. Cane propels through electric doors. Glass and rubber seal me inside. Smells of salt, baking plastic.

Patients numb as goldfish. Summer leaks in through skylights. Where the hell is Suite D?  

I wait behind cataract grandma. Drug salesmen gossip like Mormons. Plaque says Dr. Robert P. Mudd. Paintings of villas with cows and vineyards.

Grapes ripe, staring like eyes.

by Kirby Wright of Vista

Digging

Digging up rocks, throwing them aside, planting it, watering it, soaking it, overflowing it, making sure it doesn’t wither, but grow, grow up. More water, more water. Maybe too much water, don’t know. Don’t know what happened. Don’t touch it. Don’t pull up what’s left. Let it be. Walk away. Don’t look back. Walk away. Please.

by William J Fedigan of Ridgewood

#14

truth tied in her hair
;  convinced this was the way
we passed gravity etched into a stone
,  ignored the warning &raised the sail

by David Tomaloff of Racine