All entries by this author
Oct 20th, 2007 |
By Defenestration
Okay class. Listen up. Here’s a list of inbred contractions that absolutely must be included: -A camera walking into the picture frame. -A series of thoughts that arrive on a conveyor belt. -Rusty nails absorbed in steely concentration. -Banjo lessons held inside a Trojan horse. -A pocket handkerchief with a wrinkled brow. -A vase wearing
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Posted in Poetry |
Comments Off on “Blatant Truths. Succulent Infrequencies.” by Maurice Oliver
Tags: IV.XII, Maurice Oliver, Poetry, Poetry IV.XII
Oct 20th, 2007 |
By Defenestration
So my friend Phil is telling me how he can’t get a date how he loves women and how they’re always giving him looks so I ask him what kind of looks so he winces at the beautiful braless young woman passing by at that particular propitious moment giving her a look of such longing
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Posted in Poetry |
Comments Off on “Wincing at the Beautiful,” by Paul Hostovsky
Tags: IV.XII, Paul Hostovsky, Poetry, Poetry IV.XII
Oct 20th, 2007 |
By Defenestration
after work everyday two old women wearing tennis shoes would hang outside the liquor store waiting for their bus– these smiling gals in tennis shoes were seen diving hard onto the concrete the day gun shots came flying from inside the store, making it the high point of their dull lives– and like urban birds
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Posted in Poetry |
Comments Off on “the distance of gravity,” by Stanley M. Noah
Tags: IV.XII, Poetry, Poetry IV.XII, Stanley M. Noah
Oct 20th, 2007 |
By Defenestration
Warning: May contain nuts Recommended Audience: 18.5 + According to Harold Bloomers, ‘the love shared by Romeo and Juliet is as healthy and normative as a honey-coated enema after having your leg ripped off and your soul destroyed by an irate chicken wearing stilettos.’ Discuss this statement in relation to Shakespeare’s play and whatever version
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Posted in Prose |
Comments Off on “A Daffodil’s Version of Romeo and Juliet,” By Amanda Burns
Tags: Amanda Burns, IV.XII, Prose, Prose IV.XII
Oct 20th, 2007 |
By Defenestration
When I first found out I was a prophet I was super pumped. I mean who wouldn’t be. One day I’m the stockroom manager at Smart and Final and then, out of nowhere, I’m an instrument of the living god. That’s a hell of a promotion. He did a really good job explaining it to
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Posted in Prose |
Comments Off on “Archangel Migraine,” by Wesley Durham
Tags: IV.XII, Prose, Prose IV.XII, Wesley Durham