Posts Tagged ‘ VII.I ’

Defenestration: April 2010

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

The wait is over. Welcome to the April 2010 issue of Defenestration!

We changed this year. New look. New format. We’ve been publishing columns, comics, and non-fiction all year, but now it’s time for the poetry and prose to explode from our virtual pages. This is the first of three Defenestration issues that will appear this year, and it’s excellent. We recieved a lot of great submissions during our first reading period, and we chose the best of the best.

Two Poems by David W. Landrum

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

It is here you’ll stay.
I have to donate you—
and don’t lay blame: you were the one
who became a relic, galumphed
into the dismal swamp of old desire.
You are a specimen, so don’t insist
you aren’t exotic.

Two Poems by Steve De France

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

Sitting in her garden
I resolve to reflect a positive life outlook.
I begin a spiritually affirming list poem.
I like fish swimming in a pond.
Birds are good—they sing a bit.
Ducks are decorative but dumb.

Two Poems by Danny Adams

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

Othello (Moor), Iago (scorned)
go at it in a Turkish war
but poor Othello doesn’t know
Iago’s out to get him so

“Downy Nights,” by Laura Garrison

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

The dreams
webbed and flapping, with beaks like orange shoehorns,
suffuse my head;

“Film 401 – Robotic Pitfalls in Contemporary Cinema,” by Gabe Durham

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

Week 1 – The Matrix

One thing my EATR students have over the 19-year-olds I used to teach: attention span. I flipped the lights on after the movie and all 400 of them were alert, humming softly, their eyes glowing red with what I’m told is attention.

I began with what I thought was a softball question: “What did the robots do wrong in this film?”

“My Favorite Thing,” by Phoebe Nir

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

“The thing is,” I said, “I’m pretty sure I’m overreacting.”

“Maybe,” said the mailman.

“No, but really,” I said. “Like, I’m almost certain that I’m overreacting.”

“An Infinite Amount of Monkeys,” by Josh Peterson

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

When the monkeys showed up at my door with a card that read, “An infinite amount of monkeys—For Dean,” my brain spun in my head like a rotisserie chicken. If there was such a thing as an infinite amount of monkeys, then every home, dance club, nursing home, pizza joint, ocean and planetoid would be filled with monkeys. In fact, logically, the monkeys should inhabit the very spot where I stood. I grabbed the card, worried that the infinite monkeys would rapidly deplete our resources and their decaying carcasses would litter our streets.

“City Hall,” by Chris Tarry

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

Assuming that love actually did take place—that love between two City Hall employees (one from Sewage and Disposable Income Studies, the other from the much-less-heralded Bikes and Bike Rack Division), was indeed a manifestation of actual love, of real love, of throw-your-arms-around-it-and-cry kind of love, and not a by-product of lonely-office, interdepartmental ballyhoo (or flirting, as it’s commonly known)—then the current variables, social media studies, and other weights and measures can be correctly applied. That is, of course, assuming one takes into consideration the length of the courtship, the male’s intent when initiating said courtship, and the female’s acceptance of awkward and uncomfortable silences surrounding said attempt. See also: The Water Cooler And Its Socioeconomic Ramifications.

“The Really Serious, Angst-Filled, Dark Story,” by Jeromy Henry

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

A woman walked down the streets of New York, or maybe it was San Francisco, or LA. Who the heck cares? All these kinds of stories take place in some gritty urban area. Take your pick. It was nighttime, so all the buildings loomed like blocky shadows.

Kat Black wore skintight leather pants, which are completely impractical and cost a fortune to clean. They also squeak when you walk, which annoyed the heck out of her. She wore a black leather duster, a faded black tee, and a silver ankh around her neck.