DADA by Craig Scott

Offering 54 is now available: Dada by Craig Scott.

A trust. Public. Little. Not.
Burning over its
make. For the
American deaths. In Eden. Not not.
Make America. It’s 1984.
Make mankind. Little over.

ill of i by Joseph A. W. Quintela

Offering 53 is now available: ill of i by Joseph A. W. Quintela.

 

On Becoming Mrs. Dalloway

Mrs. Dalloway said she would

love walking in London, said Mrs. Dalloway, really it’s better than

being Mrs. Dalloway; not even Clarissa anymore, this being

the violent explosion which made Mrs. Dalloway.

Mrs. Dalloway, coming to the window with her arms full of [       ]

Mrs. Dalloway, coming out of [       ]

Mrs. Dalloway, raised her hand to her eyes and

taking Mrs. Dalloway’s parasol, handled it like a sacred weapon.

In came Mrs. Dalloway.

But, said Mrs. Dalloway, she had enough.

Oh, thank you, said Mrs. Dalloway, and thank you, thank you, she went on.

Mrs. Dalloway will see me, said the elderly man in the hall.

Who can — what can, asked Mrs. Dalloway (thinking it was outrageous to be

Mrs. Dalloway, who seldom met, and appeared when they did meet indifferent)

But Mrs. Dalloway had

been in a factory; behind a counter; Mrs. Dalloway and all the

hatred of Mrs. Dalloway. This grudge against the world, she thought,

did not hate Mrs. Dalloway.

Mrs. Dalloway said,

She despised Mrs. Dalloway from the bottom of her heart.

Mrs. Dalloway had triumphed,

had impressed Mrs. Dalloway (she could not get the thought

up), one by one, Mrs. Dalloway walking last and almost always

felt that Mrs. Dalloway was far the best of the

movies — when Mrs. Dalloway came

late (dear Mrs. Dalloway, we hardly dared to come),

drawing Mrs. Dalloway into the [       ].

HEART PIE by David Mac

Offering 52 is now available: Heart Pie by David Mac.

 

Mascara

 

beetles in your boudoir belch from your black liquid eyes

your heart’s a grey ashtray the shape of a skull

 

I have come here again with my bouquet of wilting flowers

I have come to lovingly break your neck

 

and you can hardly believe the words hissing from my mouthpiece

they are not the ones you expected

 

so, as I cross the room to find a vase, all that separates us is

the sound of tears from your eyes, and poison from mine

 

 

– previously appeared in Purple Patch

MAD RUSH – The Editor’s New Project

All, I have started up a new project: Mad Rush, a print magazine. Please venture over to its website and consider submitting your work during the mag’s reading periods. A direct link to Mad Rush’s submission guidelines can be found here.

Submissions to Ten Pages Press are still open.

WHAT I DID MONDAY by Tim Murray

A new year! Here’s to another 50 e-chapbooks!

That said, offering 51 is now available: What I Did Monday by Tim Murray.

 

Genesis

 

God,

in his infinite gloom,

created man one afternoon.

Said God, “I need something

to laugh about.”