Contributed By: Patrick Fadely
Don’t talk to Christopher Nelms
He’s hatching an egg in his mouth
And if he speaks
He might drop it
Or if he didn’t drop it
The words might penetrate the egg
And the bird emerge all weird
With a face in its hand and an eye in its ear.
Don’t talk to J. Matherly
He’s hiding immigrants in his gums
And under his tongue
And in the ragged hole left by his wisdom teeth
And if he speaks he might turn them to bullets
To shoot you straight through your curdled heart!
Return to table of contents for Issue 4 Summer 2011
A strange conjoining of forces—as against BlurbMart Kent Johnson’s short essay is about reviewing, but I’ve chosen to focus on the blurb, which I believe has relevance to the topic. I should start by saying that I’m genuinely interested in the making of blurbs: how to lend (—wait, not “lend”, but freely give) the book or author’s […]
Is probably What powdered uranium tastes like Yes She was the word floozie to a T But that word Does not rhyme with the word pain Why am I looking again at these photos We’re sleeping on some white beach at midnight Who could have taken this picture ? What an intriguing corpse I’ll make My brain loves […]
At a certain point, it began to feel as though I’d been staring at Marina the entire semester. She’d approached me once, saying my name with a kind of intimacy that made it seem as if we were longtime friends. She asked me to help her with her math homework. I solved the problems she […]
