The Big Reveal
It’s the big reveal.
All the people standing around you a second ago were just actors in your life.
Now they’re clapping and laughing and walking over to you.
You figured it out.
Ten thousand dollars cash.
Paid vacation to Bermuda.
It was all just a game.
Nothing was ever as bad as you thought.
A test for some reality TV show.
RICH PALMER
Buddhah
Do What You Need to Be Happy
I was chasing Ewoks on a motorcycle today. It was such a sight to see their furry firm rumps bounding side to side with each gallop of their cute little padded bear feet. They screamed in gloriously choired beeps and pulses as I revved my gilded stallion faster and harder into the frantic mass of bear dolls. Some hid behind garbage cans and fire hydrants; some ran into houses through cat doors and peeked out through cracked venetian blinds as I continued to chase down their friends.
For some of the heavier ones, the thrill of fast sport was too much in the sullen mid-July sun, and they collapsed on the pavement.
Some of the fallen I would swerve not to hit.
Others I would aim for.
The cute ones, I would swing a rusty crowbar toward the crowns of their skulls. Clipping bloody bone fragments into parked car doors and pedestrians, a fan of blood and fur would often erupt from these departed playthings, while an etching of matted hair would stretch the concrete as I rode on after the last visible Ewok, huffing and dragging its sorry battered soul into an abandoned alleyway for safe haven.
I dismounted my gnarly steed and crept slowly up to the alley delta.
“It’s only Luke, your old friend, don’t be sad about the others, I want to help you little man,” I soothed, palms outstretched, on my knees in the alley opening.
With an uncertain rustling, the hairy ball appeared from out of his Dumpster hideout. Its gleaming eyes projected a light blue beyond ethical description, and an ecstasy of purity and innocence seemed to glorify and define a race of immeasurable serenity.
I got up as the Ewok bumbled toward me with little furry feet and wrinkled hands collaborating in a tattered waltz of contentment.
When the creature was about two feet in front of me, I reached into my back pocket, grabbed and cocked my P228 police-issued, loaded handgun and unwound a single bullet straight through the front of its face and out the back, sending the stunted round skipping along down the alleyway.
With a sudden slump, the delicate creature collided with the ground by my feet, splattering fur and crimson on my boots and jeans. Its big blue eyes glazed erect and straight into the sun. I turned and walked back to my bike, and drove to the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts for some coffee and an éclair.
PORTER McKNIGHT
Atreyu
Come tell me old man,
Whilst I am bathing in our wounded,
ankle-deep in what remains of family
Why do we fight this war?
For fame?
Or fortune?
Here I see my brothers,
White faced, lying still beside me,
I feel contempt for what you’ve brought us.
The ground here is like a morbid canvas.
Necks contorted in fashions the mind could never comprehend.
Wasted frames of men.
Sinking.
Wallowing.
Writhing in perforated agony.
Cleanse us of this offense!
This sickening excuse for glory.
(A feeling arises deep in his breast)
The world goes dark
I cannot refuse death in this moment.
This all can end!
This all could save us.
O sweet death, deliver us from evil!
This is suffering of another level.
Bring mercy to my pitiful name.
Rise.
(The firmament isn’t ready for you.)
The stench of death is not easy to portray.
I wished for an Apocalypse.
I’m surrounded by a catacomb.
Where are the others?
No spectator in sight.
Just revengeful calm.
Look at what has become of our feud.
Bravery, in this circumstance, takes many forms.
Grace granted by the loss of a single soul.
One whose name is now set free.
An overwhelming stress lifted from his chest.
Their violence is a legend told in every land.
KIRK HUFFMAN
Gatsbys American Dream
My apartment was muggy when I awoke.
The ceiling at first blurred until its white-dulled-yellow
smoke-stained
color bloomed into focus.
Shit that sunrise is bright.
Maybe I will open a window.
At first it was the chirping of birds, the rustling of the fresh
green ivy
in the breeze which had slowly conquered the old brick red
of the antique hotel.
All of it flowing in front of an awe-inspiring blue.
Slowly.
I admired it with all five senses.
“You’re about to see some kung-fu shit, like you ain’t ever
fuckin’ seen”
Hello. Do you know where you are, Stan?
your garden of eden.
9:48am
dante’s inferno.
fucking junkies.
starbucks parking lots
jake whoops on by and engine pistons roar the commuting
swarm car alarms
7 story condo buildings featuring studios, 1 and 2 bedrooms with 9,500 square feet of street-level retail space
my apartment was muggy when I laid back down and lit up a smoke
ALEX HOVIS
Paper Models
Never Forget Her
Models, stacks of magazines
Read between the lines of speed
We can’t trail, move so slow anymore
The way she wore neckties, and her crack eyes
The Xenadrine, she does it for me
Get excited, not today
Show emotion, not today
Warm Vanilla Sugar lingers on my sheets
Your green eyes, your real brown eyes
Endless late drives, oh how hard I tried
Drink yourself into a mess
We do what we wish for best
I’ll keep you up all night without your consent
Out your window is the road we’ll never know
Your bedroom door, though, it remains closed
You’ll never, never forget her
But sooner or later you’ll wish you never met her
And I’ll warn you but you’ll soon only regret her
GRETA SALPETER
The Hush Sound
You are the moon
Shadows all around you as you surface from the dark.
Emerging from the gentle grip of night’s unfolding arms
Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
The subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone
You cannot see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear
That floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas,
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe
I want to bring a mirror, so silver and correct
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass
I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky
So you will see your beauty every moment that you rise.
New Year’s Eve
Green bottles glow on the floor
Scattered around a warm bed,
Your silhouette is soft on the edges.
Let’s fill the bottles with all of our wor
ried words;
We’ll throw them in the cold, dark lake
And follow our breath as we walk home.
ROB MORRIS
The Hush Sound
the mess i’ve made for you
Please use cup holders.
Click …
A camera is never around when you need one for that perfect shot …
A 6, and a 5, and a 7, ate, 9, in a deck scattered at who knows what time …
Casino’s time flies by and no one notices the minute hands devouring brain cells …
Half-empty glasses are full at the bottom with condensation rings on the table …
Leaving traces … memories … anything …
Fall is here again and the bottles are almost all empty
The truth is in the air like cheap whiskey.
Click …
A little piece of you is staying with me,
A little piece of you is within this photograph,
A little piece of you is coming with me,
Like it or not …
A little piece of you still cares.
The decks missing cards in a game made for pairs.
All the same suit … no suitors …
Click …
I ran for a pen to draw you a map … Of the fastest way home tonight.
I’ll dot all the tollways, dash all the freeways … And shade every mountain range for you
Color me caring …
With contrasts of regrets … on the darker faces …
All face cards but no queen.
Put on my poker face and never show you the hand that hides my face …
Click …
Kiss goodnight … while I know they’re looking at my cards …
The house always wins … I act so well like I don’t mind …
It’s just fun … It’s just a kiss … It’s just a moment that I won’t miss …
You’ve got a 15-hour drive … with some plain states ahead and you’re tired.
But I don’t offer lodgings … my house always wins …
no I don’t offer comfort in the coldest shoulders I impose on you.
Say cheese honey … then hit the road …
Click …
the sinking of some great ship
Quiet! A heart speaks out, can you hear it?
Quick! Stethoscope, scalpel, hurry damnit.
“What’s it saying?”
“It’s flopping around.”
Myocardial infarction. Heart attack
Lung sounds breathing agonal respirations
Last breaths escaping in such a common manner
Blood cells crying,
“Are you a doctor?”
“You’re hurting me like they all did.”
Speaking out against the madman in the spoon.
“Do you feel safe here?”
“Our safes empty and ravaged.”
“Thanks to you … I’m here …
Without a penny in my pocket I would still hold you
When you’re shaking, screaming, and turning blue”
Sterilized for your lack of protection.
“Is it because of lack of attention? Affection?”
On the table surrounded you’re getting all you need and then some.
Were confused on what a “last time” really means.
We’ve heard it so many times lately.
Fighting four on one to keep you in the basement
Dotted arms like tiny chicken pox on your forearms
Squeeze through the crack as we try to close the door
The tears in our eyes could have filled riverbanks to flood levels
I can’t help it … I’ve got a temper … I can’t lose it …
“Sit down shut up, because the last straw has been drawn, and my temper is at its shortest right now, so please stop trampling my heart.”
SCOTT WALDMAN
The City Drive
Is Bette Midler a True Star?
Is Bette Midler a true star?
Nah.
Stars shine in the sky.
Bette Midler ain’t no star.
Polaris, now that’s a star!
DANNY SMITH
The City Drive
Hesperia
Tell me what it’s like
Living under lights
And stares
From coffeepots
And secondhand newsprint
I’m listening
Tell me what you like
I’ll shut off the lights
Downstairs
There’s a Carpenter
She’s singing her heart out
We’re listening
And lucky stars are counted
Lucky stars are counted
In Hesperia tonight
Daughters grow up fast
She’s the smartest in her class
She says, “Wake up!
It’s suppertime!”
(shepherd’s pie. Heather’s new recipe)
Donuts for dessert
Uncle Wiggly skips a turn
I lose
I hang my head
Cheryl says, “Let’s go to bed”
Sounds good to me
And lucky stars are counted
Lucky stars are counted
In Hesperia tonight
TRAVIS BRYANT
Goodbye Tomorrow
save the boy
i had to do something with the loose ends
so i tied them around my legs
i saw patience in the water as i gazed in
deserving so much less
as i sank the noise and colors left my head
in perfect clarity i’d missed
nineteen years old when numb killed cold
forever
i wasnt gasping so tell them when theyre asking
tell them what i said
there was nothing i could do with the things left to prove
so i gave up on them
i couldnt save the boy who used to feel alive
the boy who had his mother’s smile
he used to swim but we’re losing him
to the current
missouri
can you tell me
about missouri
about the weather
on the drive
was it raining
in missouri
windshield blurring
when you arrived
did you drink enough
not to worry
or feel sorry
for the child
you were leaving
with nothing
and no one and nowhere
just eighteen years of life
that youre sorry doesnt make a damn thing right
no good intentions will ever change her life
that you fear the dark doesnt mean you love the light
i never thought missouri would be the reason that i cry
is it worth mentioning
that she had a sibling
that hasnt been clean
for a day in his life
hes been popping pills
and brawling men
in every state from texas up to washington
do you blame yourself
think of someone else
is it taking all you have to stay alive
is their grace for men
or only consequence
are you prepared to bear them for everyone
you cheated in this life
that youre sorry doesnt make a damn thing right
no good intentions will ever change her life
that you fear the dark doesnt mean you love the light
i never thought missouri would be the reason that i cried
i finally see
why she believes in me
never having the luxury
of affording dreams
or chasing them
to all the places i have been
the seas of faces through which i swim
on my way
AARON CHAPMAN
Nurses
I spoke with GOD last night, and being the benevolent being that he is, he had some surprisingly keen insight he’d like me to pass on. GOD said he would like the word and notion “god” to be replaced with the word “life.”
That it should be worshipped as wholeheartedly as he was. GOD went on to say all the idolization was beginning to make him feel a tad “big headed” and that worshipping existence would make him just as happy.
GOD thought it would be a good idea for people to take an hour (or 5) out of each Sunday to go somewhere new and appreciate anything at all. GOD also thought it wise to brush up on science (or another field of interest) in that time. GOD mentioned that doing service or just being really nice would suffice as well.
In LIFEism:
All donations are to be researched contributions to a worthy charity or to the community in which you live.
Sins are completely relative to environment and genetics, and are to be taken up with your fellow man. Repentance likewise.
Clergy will be self-appointed mentors that know anything you don’t.
The only commandments are:
1. Be a good person as best you can. All cases are relative to the individual 2. Live as much life as you can 3. Pursue something you deem worthy of your time in your relatively short amount on earth.
4. Love all
GOD’s last words were: “Have all the ladies put ’em on the glass!”
DAMON DAW
Nurses
Musicalism
The sad state of the music industry today can be attributed to one thing and one thing alone: it has in fact ceased to be an “industry” and has become a “business.” An industry differs from a business in that it is a system involved in producing and marketing tools to the public that aim to maximize the standard of living of those that purchase and implement them. One might say that an industry is concerned with the creation and distribution of technologies, music being one of these. A business, on the other hand, is an organization whose primary concern is selling products at a maximum net profit with lowest overhead costs, while placing a secondary emphasis on the impact of the product on the lives of consumers. Present-day companies that finance bands and individual performers (primarily, but not limited to, “major labels”) have effectively changed most mainstream music from a tool of technology, to a product.