by Maya Asregadoo
My
darling
dearest
sweetheart
I want
to tell
you all of these things
You have stolen my
breath
You have stolen my
thoughts
You are sweet and you love
sweet things
I want nothing more
than to hold
y
o
ur
attention
You
called me yours
once
and I smiled
When I see you
my heart beats
faster
and louder
and faster
and louder
still
You make me feel
very shy
I always
want
to see you
If you read this
you will not know
that it is a
bout
yo
u
by Michael Lutzker
Here’s a crudely constructed stream of consciousness, in need of editing, perhaps. Hopefully I don’t come off mentally insane or inebriated. But here goes:
I’ve been thinking a lot about God lately. My thoughts have been rattling around between my ears, like in a pinball machine, setting off an array of alarms and buzzers left and right in some way you just can’t understand how. And you are just frantically, jamming on that plunger as if that little metal ball was your life, and you can’t take your eyes off the lights and you can’t hear anything but those sounds, man, those buzzers. You don’t know what they mean, or how you trigger them, but they are satisfying, and you seek them out through experimentation. You just keep jamming that button on the side frantically to keep that ball up, as if your life depended on it. Then eventually, either because your pulsating finger fails you or because, and you swear, that the machine is broken, that metal ball cascades down out of reach of the lever. But you insert another quarter, eyes still transfixed, and a ring of foamy saliva below your lower lip, and try it again. One game flows into the next, without stammer. Thoughts continue to rattle and roll and swirl. Next thing you know you’ve spent half the afternoon away and are down $18.75 in quarters. But that’s life, sometimes.
Anyway, I’ve been having mind-boggling thoughts life the one evidenced just now all weekend. Maybe I’m just sobering up after a semester-long adrenaline high, but the thoughts are coming in like a broken gumball machine, and I’m slippin’ and slidin’ all over these gumballs in slapstick fashion trying to plug up the hole but can’t seem to make any forward progress. It’s really quite comical, and everyone’s getting a good laugh this weekend, because I’m really tickling a lot of funny bones and being abnormally chatty with meek acquaintances. It seems as though I cannot interact with anybody without sounding like a drunk boss toasting all his neglected employees and getting a little grabby with the female secretaries at the annual Christmas Party. Continue reading
by Christian Theodossy
I see them.
I see them through the fog. Behind the glass. Across the vastness of a chasm.
They say things to each other, things I want to hear, things I have to hear.
But they’re too far away, the fog is too thick. I can’t break through.
I try to say something to them, just so they’ll know I’m here, but I’m too quiet, they don’t hear me.
I’ll say it a little louder, maybe they’ll hear this time.
They don’t.
I shout, and a few of them look around like they noticed something.
But still, the glass stands. Unbreakable.
But I have to hear. I have to know.
So I work up as much voice as I can, and I take a deep breath.
And I shout. Continue reading
By, Jack Joseph
I’m fairly certain you can figure out which prompt to written this is in response, but if not, this is for the “evil” prompt.
__________
What is evil? The Oxford English Dictionary (yes, I looked it up before writing this) defines evil as “morally depraved, bad, wicked, or vicious.” It’s a fine definition, but it lacks specificity about “morality.” I believe Kant has the right take on it, or at least comes close. The German philosopher sees evil as using other people as a means unto an end. One should see that each person has their own intentions and beliefs and that each person is an end in and of themselves, not a means to fulfill one’s own intent. Continue reading
A dibble dabble in the stream-of-consciousness style, by Alan Osmundson. All punctuation errors are intentional
——
they skitter, they skitter around, they make the sound of a thousand clicks and a million clacks in the quietest room, clicks and clacks and ticks and tocks draining away, sucking away the seconds minutes hours of life. they click and clack and tick tock with the spiny legs the legs that are long like the ocean and sharp like knives, like pushpins ready to be inserted into the wall, the skin. do they bite or are they sneering, do they pinch or is it a caress like the devil the devil whispering murder bloody murder into my ear, murder for your own sake crush the opposition like a gnat under an elephants foot. i want it away I want it gone but how does one approach a thing that cannot be human but only malice only the embodiment of the worlds hatred sitting standing stationary at the corner sneering not biting not yet. will it go away if I leave it, if I shut my ears and close my mouth and sleep will it still be there in the morning will it sneer will it bite me in my sleep and if it does will it hurt like the knives and the pushpin in the wall but will I even know. but I don’t cover my ears and I dont close my mouth and I am wide awake and its hatred comes into me and I hear the whispers and I crush it like a gnat under an elephants foot and it sneers but it doesnt bite
Words 