after the huge wave
had sent him off the pier,
before he disappeared
into the grey water
and out of sight.
The lifeboat and a helicopter
searched till dark,
then again the next day.
Nearly a week later
just off Dungeness
some fishermen hauling
in their net, drag
a bloated rag doll
from the water.
Out from the jeans' legs
and under his anorak,
leaving the body
by various orifices,
some of them new,
the eels.
Deborah Sellers
Image by "soopahtoe"
Methodist Hospital
Hopeless
you in the bed
me in the chair
both of us waiting
You became talkative
near the end of my visit
I counted
the freckles on my arms
*
What To Do In Paris
I put on my best Edith Piaf hair
explored the city with a grin
and a red push-up bra
Frenchmen
thought my accent was cute
perfect loaves of bread
jumped into my arms
strong bottles of wine
followed me
through the French Quarter
I knew you'd be napping
when I returned
hungry when I woke you
so I brought you an apricot tart
and didn't tell you
I fucked Hemingway in the Louvre
his breath smelling of scotch and the
garlic potato salad they no longer serve
at Café Lipp
*
I Need A Sharper Knife For This
Sixteen yes,
but, if I was
all too willing,
can it really be said
you corrupted me?
To this day
I gauge all men
against you,
even your brother.
To say who was better
is a baby
I won't want to hold.
Annette Volfing
Image by Marcelo Moura
Pinpricks: Before The Conference
So you step
out of the three-star hotel
into a different rain from at home.
Numb streets, the narrowing hours.
Search out
a table for one, as you wait–
a single rose, a luminous wine.
But there's no story here.
for the start, just the shivering spell
cast in the clouds so you'll think and you'll breathe
like a doll that somebody hates.
*
Sharing
His dreams are amateur. Maybe,
once a year, a girl;
maybe even one with breasts;
but he can never be quite sure.
She sighs, impatiently, as he confesses–
then explains how she was raped,
yet again, by the entire Red Army
in just two minutes before the alarm went off,
and still had time to re-take
her French O-level and wash the kitchen floor.
*
The Row
A swollen day, jabbed.
Soon it will split right open,
to a black place by a black sea,
all outline gone,
just a shuddered spoke
like the devil's tail.
Contributors
Image by Yazmeen Razak
Jenny Gray grew up in rural Aberdeenshire, Scotland. During her school years she wrote a monthly column for her local newspaper The Ellon Times. She read English with Creative Writing at the University of Chester. Since she graduated she has been travelling in Canada and working on her first novel.
Jack Brodie is twenty-two, and started writing in 2011 after he read The Rain Horse by Ted Hughes. He lives in Alton, Staffordshire, amid the screams of the famous theme park. During his degree he took a Creative Writing module under the novelist Joe Stretch. This is his first publication
Noel Sloboda serves as dramaturg for the Harrisburg Shakespeare Company and teaches at Penn State York. He is the author of the poetry collections Shell Games (Sunnyoutside, 2008) and Our Rarer Monsters (Sunnyoutside, 2013) as well as several chapbooks. He has also published a book about Edith Wharton and Gertrude Stein.
Sarah Greenfield Clark is just another someone, writing in what little free time there is. She studies the craft with the Open University and she'd love to do this as a living, but for now she's mostly happy being a mum and escaping in poetry and prose when she can.
Nicole Cloutier is the Editor in Chief of Lumina. She grew up in rural Connecticut and is currently completing her MFA at Sarah Lawrence College.
Derek Adams is a photographer, poet, poetry promoter and sometimes writer of short stories. You can find out more about him and his work on his website [https://www.derek-adams.co.uk/].
Deborah Sellers lives outside of Indianapolis, and is temporarily of the leisure class, which unfortunately doesn't pay the bills. She lives with fellow writer Kitrell Andis and their cat who thinks she is a marshmallow. The most interesting thing she's done lately is seen an Ai Weiwei exhibit.
Annette Volfing is originally from Denmark. She is now an academic teaching Middle High German literature. Her poems have appeared in The Interpreter's House, Smith's Knoll, Snakeskin and The Oxford Magazine.
Imran Khan provided the cover image for this issue. You can find out more about him and his work by visiting his website [https://www.imrankhan.co.uk/].
Supporters
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This issue of Neon was made possible by the kind support of:
Lisa Clark
April Davila
Shannon Ralph
Jessica Falzoi
EAM Harris
Richard Fox
Matthew Di Paoli
Simon Collings
Patrick East
Steven Young
Victoria McGee
Noah Saunders
Sandra Hiortdahl
Benjamin Liar
CH Thompson
Danica Richards
Kevin Bannigan
William Wallace
Sarah Purnell
Jan-Kees Kok
Sunetra Senior
Cynthia White
JA Underhill
Tracey Swan
Amelia Ashton
Bryn Fortey
Jon Margetts
Scott Thornley
Charles Thielman
Christopher DiCicco
Woodland Grove Gallery
Neal Holtschulte