MARCH 2007


An Appropriated Story, 1974
By Richard Grayson, Dec 17, 2006
My protagonists are the fragments of a memory. They are the only ones you may trust. My whole wheat bread is weeping. Crying silently. Even now. As I hold the sandwich in my hands, my pudgy architectís hands. Lorna must have put too much liebestod in the batter. Otherwise why would it cry? With each bite, the tears grow less, and they are muted inside of me. Each bread-tear takes that no-frills journey down my esophagus, into the central cavity that is my stomach, their river Lethe. On the television, guns are being fired. An old movie replayed: Each Dawn I Die
... (more)

no service
By Ian Wrisley, Dec 1, 2006
I screamed a short burst of frustration in my throat and opened the door. Water splashed in. I stepped up and out into the back of the pick-up, mine for just three hours. Two hours earlier we pulled off the blacktop, headed up Slate River. This was why Iíd moved to Crested Butte from Kansas City. All the locals were always going on and on about hiking this and skiing that. And now, with my new rig, a Ď92 4x4 (primer gray), I felt like them: local... (more)

Awful Patrol
By Andrew Davis, Nov 10, 2006

A Review of Vonnegut's A Man Without a Country (2007)
By Jason Jordan, Feb 27, 2007
Itís not like Kurt Vonnegut needs the exposure Iím about to give him, but one simply canít overlook A Man Without a Country (Random House, 2007) Ė his first major output in years.  While itís true that the hardback edition of AMWaC came out in 2005, it was released this past January in paperback, which lessens the price significantly.  But letís be honest, $14 for a 145-page book is still not that great.  At any rate, while his latest certainly isnít the finest the Vonnegut library has to offer Ė arguably those would be Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) and Breakfast of Champions (1973) Ė it is a good, quick read for those who are genuinely interested in what the man has to say on a more personal, intimate level. For better or worse, A Man Without a Country isnít easily classifiable as itís part memoir, part political commentary, and part writing how-to guide.  The book is also filled with illustrations, which are often just gray, quote-filled boxes with Vonnegutís wiry signature scrawled across the bottom right corner... (more)

E-mail to Daminiso Lopez 183
By Duane Locke, Jan 28, 2007
I make up the people
I talk to,
I never ask their names,
Nor for their addresses.
I do not even know
What these people look like.
I avoid looking at them,
Keep my eyes downturned
When I am talking to them.

Late yesterday afternoon
I talked to one
Of these people I made up
About Medieval Philsophy,
Mainly, John Duns Scotus.
I talked for a long time.

Later on, I wondered
If this person I made up
Really listened to what I said
About John Duns Scotus.
In our age, no one cares about religion,
Except for their own insular, ignorant lies.
Also, no one can tell
What really goes on
In another mind
Even if it is the person
Who you made up.

I doubt if this person I made up
Was listening to me
Talk about John Duns Scotus.
While I talked,
This person was probably
Recalling scenes of brutality
From old horror movies.

Duane Locke, Doctor of Philosophy, English Renaissance literature, Professor Emeritus of the Humanities, was Poet in Residence at the University of Tampa for over 20 years. For more information on him, type in Duane Locke on Google. There are about a half-million entries under his name. On MSN, only 60,000 entries.


Wanna hang out?


What If I Blow Up The Statue Of Liberty?
By Andrew Fitzgerald Cobb, Oct 19, 2006
What if I blow up the Statue of liberty?
With no one dead or gone
Neither injured nor scared.

A simple point made
That Billions already have known.

The icing of the cake
A finishing touch
Grandiose exposure.

Talking heads
Buzzing conspiracy
A point more clear
Than a star in the sky.

French Apparel
Mended and bended
Explosive residue cover
The burnt, marked and battered
Lumps of purity.

All in all
Reshaping the face of Liberty
To show herself from within.

The old constitution gone
That foundation feeble
The facades melting away
Into the sea
For which the sea
Is from where we came

I stand on Ellis
With a cigarette in hand
In marvelous matrimony

With my maidens arm entangled
Impervious to touch
Impervious to the old lies.

Attaching themselves so easily
Plaguing her existence
Ever since her stature and presence
Was first erected.

Her symbolism lost with misery,
Greed of corruption,
Inhumane treatment,
People are oppressive;
People are oppressed.

I show this mess
Now as what she is:

I made her American.

Andrew Fitzgerald Cobb is 20 and lives in Livermore, California.  He seems like an interesting guy.

The Way She Says My Name
By James Babbs, Jan 29, 2007
I know by the way
she says my name
when I answer the phone
like sheís reading it
from the computer screen
in front of her
that itís one of those calls
where I usually hang up
right about this time
but her voice sounds so sexy
as she talks about
credit protection and
identity theft that
I just let her
keep going on and on
imagining her doing
all kinds of
wonderful things to me
saying yes with my eyes closed
when she stops and
asks me if I want it
having no idea
what Iíve just agreed to do

James Babbs was born during the Johnson administration when the average household income was $6,899.00 and a gallon of gas cost just 32Ę. His poetry collection, Dictionary of Chaos, is still available from Xlibris.

5 across the eyes
By Anders Peter JÝrgensen, Nov 19, 2006
Living life in the fast lane, no time or evident wish to look back and reflect.

No need to look in the rear-view mirror, straight forward, only using speeder and clutch.

Made Ozzyís ĎNo More Tearsí a way of living.

Crooning in front of the mirror, with the God Osbourne as back up, with the empty whiskey bottle as the microphone.

As reality hits, as the fist shatters the mirror, as the head follows, as 5 wounds across the eyes appears.

As the past catches up with the present!

Anders Peter JÝrgensen is an active chef from Aalborg, Denmark. When it's not food he's cooking, it's something else, like pieces of dark and haunting poetry, or reviewing music and interviewing band-members.