Street Angel, House Devil

The man sat smugly on the bus, holding a framed picture on his knees. He decided to hang it in the hall so that visitors would admire his good taste. He stood on a chair. His young daughter handed him a crooked nail.
–   What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
His wife handed him a knife with a heavy steel handle.
–   What’s this? Christ, I’m living with two idiots!
He tapped the nail into the plaster, then hung the picture on the nail, biting the knife between his teeth.
–    And now for the coup de grass (sic).
He hit the nail hard and the whole lot came crashing down.
–    Jesus Christ, it’s destroyed!
He grabbed his overcoat from the hall stand and left the house. His wife and daughter allowed themselves a little titter. However, they knew there would be hell to pay when he came home from the pub, ugly drunk.

splinter of glass
in the lino –
drawing blood

Gerry McDonnell

Street Angel, House Devil

The Legend of Janey Burden 

Janey was a stableman’s daughter. Swished her tresses from her face.
Lizzy, Alexa and Fanny her sisters in paint were clearly seen. And she was a good woman too.

stitches
chain and whipped back
lazy daisy and feather

Janey was a stableman’s daughter. Swished her dresses round her waist.
Proserpine, Astarte Syriaca, Mnemosthene, she embodied the three of them wrapped in green. And she was a good woman too.

chain and whipped back
stitches
lazy daisy and feather

Janey was a stableman’s daughter. Swished her silks for a flower in place .
Lucrece, Hyppolita, Helen of Troy, all from her needle sewn on a screen.
And she was a good woman too.

lazy daisy and feather
chain and whipped back
stitches

Janey was a stableman’s daughter. Swished her affections without a trace.
Lizzy, Alexa and Fanny her sisters in paint were clearly seen .
And she was a good woman too.

chain and whipped back
stitches
lazy daisy and feather

NB: Jane Morris (nee Burden)was a model for many pre-raphaelite painters

Diana Webb

The Legend of Janey Burden 

a German play

lots of marks
for identifying pieces
thermal cat

‘Raw onion’ the watchword he whispers significantly, and ‘French vinaigrette’ the darkness solemnly replies. A shot rings out through the stillness. ‘You’ve been sadly misinformed my friend.’ He fingers a half-week’s stubble. ‘The dressing was last week. Today it’s pickled cabbage on the menu.’ The crumpled heap of soot clutches his spurting belly, whimpering feebly in the dust. ‘Probiotic, if putrid,’ he continues amiably, returning the flintlock to its holster and receding back into the shadows. ‘Green goddess might have sufficed,’ it spits his last words, wooden teeth grinding deafeningly, guts straining against the ball interloping about their property. Quietly, it expires.

reading roadkill
universal standard for
diagnostic codes

Unaware of these petty intrigues, a stoic trollop three stories above, yawning, dumps her guzunder onto the low kingdom and all its august inhabitants in dreary indifference. He finds, even in death, the stench is repellant, offends his delicate nostrils. Vicissitudes.

Jerome Berglund

a German play

Bullets, Cat Heads

this is what the rich do who they call peers associates the planners of their parties that collect most vulnerable prey on and leaves decapitated threats ammunition on critics’ front stoops magazines refuse to print a harsh word having full possession of facts on hand police investigating die prematurely this is what capital buys when you let it accumulate unchecked what are we going to do

seafood buffet
a rare
reflexivity

Jerome Berglund

Bullets, Cat Heads

Epistemology

Before I had finished explaining, the guy in the dream woke up.

He walked away from the tree, so that when it fell, no one could hear, and so, perhaps, silence fell.

An audio file deleted by mistake. The lecture never attended. Ideas misunderstood.

A red sun bedded by the sea. Bare feet in wet sand. Seagulls fast asleep. On one leg. Sacred to Aphrodite and the White Goddess of the Moon. Voluptuous and gullible.

As far as I know.

untying a dream
the child crawls
inside a box

Robert Witmer

Epistemology

Breakfast Eggs

You are dragging yourself dry like a headless towel gone with the wind, dutifully running away from the herd, licking the floor, fretting over chump men, a dynamiter man, whose muddy footsteps are inclemently hard to clean off my driveway.

running out of days,
flip the sanity
already overcooked.

Joana Figueiredo

Breakfast Eggs

The Ballad of Lizzie Siddal

Oh Lizzie, she was a milliner girl,
making hats in the alley,
When along came a swain a whispering,
‘I can make you happy.
Oh Lizzie Lizzie come with me,
And make your face your fortune.’
So off went Lizzie,
stream of red tresses a flowing…

gallery exhibit
curl in a space
space in a curl

Oh Lizzie she was Rossetti’s girl,
making art after her fashion,
When along came a swain a whispering ,
‘I can make you happy.
Oh Lizzie Lizzie come with me,
And take your fix don’t dally.’
So off went Lizzie
stream of red tresses a flowing…

gallery exhibit
space in a curl
curl in a space

Oh Lizzie she was a  laudanum girl,
making the best of her sadness,
When along came a swain a whispering,
‘I can make you happy.
Oh Lizzie Lizzie come with me,
And make your fate a tragedy.’
So off went Lizzie,
stream of red tresses a flowing…

gallery exhibit
space in a curl in a space
in space

Diana Webb

The Ballad of Lizzie Siddal

Please Say “Present” When I Call Your Name

Ashlyn
Ashton
Braxton
Brooklyn
Caitlyn with a c
Creston
Cresslyn
Eastton with two t’s
Eeston with two e’s
Evelyn
Jazlyn
Kaitlyn with a k
K8lyn with an 8
Kingston
Lynton
Packston with a k—sorry—with a ck
Pakston with just a k
Paxton with an x
Qaitlyn with a q
Quinnlyn
Quenton
Quinton
Remington with an i
Rem‽ngton with an exclamation point—sorry—an interrobang
Rem!ngton with an exclamation point
Southeaston
Tonlyn
Tracelyn
Trenton with just an o
Trentön with an o with an umlaut
Westlyn
Weston
Zayton with a just a z
and double-z Zzayton

mock orange blossoms
keeping up
the Joneses

Joshua St. Claire

Please Say “Present” When I Call Your Name