Short, Fast, and Deadly

Short, Fast, and Deadly

i94

[Interview: What Does Deadly Mean to You?]

ISSN: 2163-0712 

Edited by Joseph A. W. Quintela

25 September 2011

 

Featuring:

Sarah E. Alderman

Thomas Cochran

Christine Fadden

Howie Good

David E. Haase

Bruce Harris

Alicia Hoffman

Vincent McGillivray

 

Copyright © 2011 by Individual Authors

All Rights Reserved

 

Deadly

It's a 1-round bout between reader and author. You've got 3 minutes. Bring it. I want to be jabbed in the face, punched in the stomach, and feel an upper cut to my chin. I want cut lips. I want to taste blood. At least one eye should be swollen and partially shut. I want the impact of your punches to linger after I limp out of the ring. Hell, if you can't do that to me and do it quickly, you're in the wrong game.

by Bruce Harris of Scotch Plains

Extant

The artist is dead,
as the post-moderns
said all that exists
is the text. Now,
the sky paints itself
with broad brush
strokes I want to unfold.

by Alicia Hoffman of Rochester

Houston

Lone Star, you can go nowhere, in less than half an hour. This little water stinks. Period. Grass cracks.

Tease,

O clap of thunder! 

Oil is good, Oil is great! God too. Your car is God too. Follow the church ladies’ hats, Bluebonnet. Praise pulled pork burritos. Smash fast Bieber piñatas, for fans of fuschia tissue paper rain and pelting sugar melting. Give up on salt. 

Discover the many ways to don a wet red bandana. 

by Christine Fadden of Indiana

Street Fight

From a balcony
I see a man in high-tops
dropkick the homeless mime.
As I’m about to dial 911
they begin singing Auld Lang Syne
in mid September.

by Vincent McGillivray of Halifax

Bone

Because
you’re my catapult
my antibiotic
a barbwire camp
why not
hold me while I’m naked
just squeeze

by Howie Good of Hyannis

Tiny Deaths

This will kill me. Counting out each word, every single one more precious than the last I have written. I judge the value of each letter weigh its importance. Which will truly reveal me to you the reader? Which will cut you to the bone? Which will make you rise up out of your seat filled with something other than apathy or judgment? These are my tiny deaths, these tiny edits, cutting some words so other will live.

by Sarah E. Alderman of Lake City

102.

Some
destinations
satisfy
desires.

Some
difficulties
sow
disorders.

Some
digressions
stifle
dialogue.

Sit
down.

by Thomas Cochran of West Fork

down to the lizard galleria

Thompson at the perimeter of his forty four. Places a side bet on the Morrison/Bukowski bout. Imagine that Chinaski sissy symphony listening priss trying to out-drink Morrison. He gullets wild turkey. Too many aim-ill nitrates prescribed by my prostrate lawyer in the semi-finals. Thompson follows up with blotter brown. Let me know if that fucker shows up because he’s gonna have more holes than Nixon’s alibis.

by David e. Haase of Denver