Welcome to the June 2009 issue of Defenestration, also known as “VI.VIII,” also known as “Poetry and Prose and Zombies.” Or something like that. There is definitely poetry, there is definitely prose, and there are definitely zombies. Not everywhere, mind you, but rather sprinkled here and there like chocolate chips atop a scoop of vanilla
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How I love guacamole salad this murky mucky marvel to eat is to imbibe Great green gobs of avocado add onions to create a dubious delight Admittedly it is the ugliest of foods in name and in appearance The ignorant may hesitate to part their lips and give it clearance But those who know will
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I handed in my notice at work today and the guy didn’t even bother to read it– just folded it and place it in his shirt pocket like an unwanted receipt. told everyone I was leaving to become a poet a superhero a spy a nazi– nobody blinked. then marie walks in asks what happened
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SIX WARNING SIGNS OF A TROUBLED RELATIONSHIP (REMEDIES INCLUDED) By Shiva Lila, M.A., ASCAP 1. The Locks Are Changed Nearly Every Time You Return Home This has happened to three friends of mine. Ironically they were all born in Pittsburgh and strangely enough they are all women. On the bright side you can know this
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Zombies never sigh. Or roll their eyes. Zombies are never hurt by a rejection from Ploughshares. Not even the third one. Unlike certain right-wing commentators, zombies do not deeply admire their own courage. Zombies never direct movies about beautiful young people learning important lessons about life and love. Zombies are not, as Neal Cassady would
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