There’s a reason I don’t draw the lower half of my charaters’ bodies. And here you thought I was just being lazy.

RANDY JACKSON: Yo, dog, yo. When I heard you would be singing the Godfather of Soul, I was like, What?! But “Sex Machine” is dope, y’all. If you do that song, you got to bring it, yo. And guess what? You slayed it! You got a little pitchy, especially when you started changing the words up and singing about trying to conceive a child with your wife.

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.

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.

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.