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Contents
Kelci M. Kelci
Interview 8
Graham Gremore
The Destination Wedding 11
Mira Martin-Parker
The Present 17
Like a Poor Girl 19
Gifts for Guns 21
Calder Lorenz
Confessions of a Baptist Janitor 29
Ian Tuttle
Space is Never Empty 37
Paul Corman-Roberts
My Mein Kampf 39
L
Josey Duncan
Dayshift 45
Matthew Siegel
Weather of the Body 47
Life Guarding 48
Such is the Sickness 49
Chris Cole
Everything He Touches Turns to Candy
65
Siamak Vossoughi
The Movie Quitters 73
Stellar Cassidy
16th & Mission 81
Nic Burrose
Kill the Lights 89
SOUNDS from The Secret Secretaries’ Poetry is Dead
Behind Closed Doors 93
Broken Record Blues 95
XOXO 97
Get Well (Soon) 99
untitled 102
COLLAGE
This is Our Time Down Here 103
2.4
Pua Logan
Old Man Paneha
and the Angry Grass front cover
Boy in Meadow back cover
Interview
Who's lame
and who do you hate
Just be honest
it's the muscles around your eyes I'm
watching
For dudes
isn't it all about sex anyway
Distract me
9
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from the love I'm coming down off
Banish my appetite
flutter my stomach
make me doubt the realness of your
allegiance
Never slip up
never say those three words just double
dip mouth to lip
10
Kelci M. Kelci —–––––––––––
The Destination Wedding
11
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“Oh, Steve. Right. Him. That’s
Georgia’s fiancé.”
“I gathered that much. But who is
he?”
My mother went on to explain that she
wasn’t entirely sure. All she knew about
Steve was that he was an Australian and
that he and Georgia had been “seeing
each other for a while.” Then she
dropped the destination wedding bomb:
“And they’re getting married in
Australia. Isn’t that romantic?”
A wave of dread washed over me.
“You’re kidding, right? That’s in an entirely
different hemisphere.”
“So what? It’s an excuse to go
somewhere exotic.”
Now, I realize that most people would
be thrilled about a trip to Australia.
Unfortunately, I am not most people. Not
only did the thought of spending an
extended period of time with my family in
a foreign land sound less than ideal, but
traveling, in general, is not an activity I
enjoy. I don’t like living out of a suitcase.
Not to mention, flying terrifies me. So
much so that merely thinking about the
act of boarding an airplane causes me to
tremble with fear.
It didn’t always used to be like that.
Up until my early 20’s, flying didn’t bother
12
Graham Gremore —–––––––––––
me. It took a sudden awareness of my
own mortality, along with a deep distrust
in strangers, to put me over the edge.
Now, in order to make it through even a
short domestic flight, I require two Xanax
and a glass of wine, and even that
doesn’t always prevent me from breaking
out into a cold, clammy sweat, which
more often than not leads to a full-
fledged panic attack.
“I’m going to have to think about
this,” I said to my mother, tentatively.
“It’s your sister’s god damn wedding,”
she insisted. “You can’t miss it.”
And she was right. Skipping my only
sister’s wedding was perhaps the worst
thing I could do as a younger brother. But
that didn’t mean I couldn’t put up a fight.
After hanging up with my mother, I
went into campaign mode. Plopping
down in front of my computer, I wrote my
sister the following e-mail:
Georgia,
Don’t you think it’s a little rude to make your
friends and family fly halfway across the world
just to see you exchange nuptials with some guy
none of us even knew existed up until a month
ago? Australia is very far away. I implore that you
please reconsider your decision to get married
down under.
Your brother,
Graham
13
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Graham,
Don’t be stupid. Who wouldn’t want to go to
Australia? It’s all warm weather and koala bears.
-Sis
Georgia,
For starters, me. I don’t want to go to Australia.
Graham,
You don’t count. The wedding will be in Australia.
So either shut up and deal with it or eat shit and
die. Your choice.
Georgia,
I hate you.
Graham,
Likewise.
Georgia,
Why? Why are you doing this to me? Why? And
after everything we’ve been through…
Your loving, hurting brother.
Oh, Graham.
Stop acting like some sort of victim. There are
two events in your sister’s life that you must
attend out of brotherly duty, her wedding and her
funeral. I know the wedding is going to be
inconvenient for you so you can skip the funeral.
Georgia,
Don’t think I’m going to fall for your little trick.
Though I may be four years younger than you,
statistically speaking, women live seven years
longer than men, which means I am most likely
going to die five years before you. Therefore, I opt
to skip the wedding.
Graham,
Dumb fool. If women live seven years longer than
men and you’re four years younger than me, then
that would mean you’re going to die three years
before me, not five. Get a calculator.
Georgia,
You’re missing the point. What I’m trying to say is
that, regardless of when I die, letting me off the
hook for your funeral is no consolation.
Graham,
Whatever. I could get hit by a bus, or fall down a
well, or be eaten by all matter of ferocious wildlife.
You better get in early because the funeral may
be gruesome.
15
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matter. Georgia’s wedding would be in
Australia and there was nothing I could
say or do to change that. So I decided
my best bet at this point was to try and
strike up a deal.
Georgia,
I've come to terms with the fact that you're
getting married in Australia and there's nothing I
can do about it. So I've decided that, whenever
this dreadful wedding occurs, I will be there;
however, my attendance is contingent upon one
thing, that all of my drinks be paid for. I think it's
only fair that if I am being made to fly halfway
across the world, I should at least be able to drink
for free.
Graham,
Fine.
Fuck you,
Georgia
16
Graham Gremore —–––––––––––
The Present
18
Mira Martin-Parker —–––––––––––
Like a Poor Girl first published in Fall 2009, Diverse
Voices Quarterly, Vol1, Issue 1&2
20
Mira Martin-Parker —–––––––––––
Gifts for Guns
21
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“Oh yes, they’re definitely ready,”
looking surprised and suddenly realizing
why I was there.
I went back over to the police table
and waited patiently. Finally one of the
men stopped what he was doing and
gave me a funny look.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said, looking at me in
disbelief. “Hand it over.”
I opened by purse and pulled out a
small, but very heavy Japanese
drawstring sack and gave it to him. He
opened the bag and removed a black
22-semiautomatic. He quickly threaded
some sort of plastic device through the
empty chamber where the clip had
been. Then he put his hand back into the
bag and pulled out a receipt from the
gun shop where it had been purchased.
“Do you know this man?” he asked,
pointing to the name listed at the top.
“Of course I do,” I said with a smile.
“Can I have my gift now?”
22
Mira Martin-Parker —–––––––––––
One Mysterious Piece
28
Josh Mohr —–––––––––––
Confessions of a Baptist Janitor
33
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She takes a drink and then turns back
to look at Scotty as he waves the girls into
the men’s restroom.
I’m left with Brian who rubs his swollen
forehead.
He says, “Hey, friend. Pour me a shot!”
He doesn’t look at me. I put down two
shot glasses and I tell myself that life is a
test. These are the moments when we
achieve a higher level of understanding.
This is how we taste. How we touch.
Maybe I’ve finally been given the
opportunity to learn about darkness so I
can wallow in redemption, be reborn with
the ability to annunciate my faith.
35
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36
Calder Lorenz —–––––––––––
Space is Never Empty
Standing there
with my foot
on the tape measure's zero dash
I straddle our unmade future
and this apartment's past
like a man between two mirrors
reflecting a private infinity
37
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Empty apartments are so full
there are many ways
a life can go
38
Ian Tuttle —–––––––––––
My Mein Kampf
46
Josey Duncan —–––––––––––
Weather of the Body first published in Cimarron
Review
47
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Life Guarding first published in Salt Hill
48
Matthew Siegel —–––––––––––
Such is the Sickness first published in Mid-
American Review
50
Matthew Siegel —–––––––––––
There’s a Drunk Lady Selling Jewelry on
QVC
51
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“Or maybe just famous,” he said.
“Let’s be famous. People should know
about all our sweet stuff.”
“What stuff?” said Lizzy. “Quit playing
around in my backpack!”
Joe reached into Lizzy’s backpack
and took out her pencil case.
Lizzy said, “What are you doing with
my things? Stop it!”
Joe started unzipping and zipping the
pencil case and then said, “Maybe we
should get drunk and sell jewelry on
television. That’s kind of like being famous
and I doubt it’s that difficult. Look! She’s
talking shit about her ex-husband now.
We could get drunk and air our
grievances on QVC.”
For a moment, Lizzy forgot about the
pencil case. “She’s rich, sure,” joked Lizzy.
“But is she happy? Her husband got the
plates.”
Lizzy stared at the TV. So did Joe. And
then, methodically, without looking down,
he removed the items from the pencil
case, laying them side by side on the
coffee table. Glue stick, blue drawing
pencil, gum eraser, fine point drawing
pen, Exacto knife.
52
Lizzy Acker —–––––––––––
When Lizzy noticed what was
happening, she said: “Hey, quit playing
with my shit!” Joe ignored her.
Instead he said, “True. We’ll have to
weed out types that will just want to get
with us because of our money.”
Then he looked down at the supplies
he had lined up on the table.
“What is this for?” he asked. “Why do
you need a knife?”
“Graphic Design class,” she said.
“Where we cut things up.”
Lizzy changed the channel.
“Hey!” said Joe. “Go back to the
crazy drunk lady.”
“Put my knife back and I’ll do
whatever you want,” said Lizzy.
“But wait,” he said. “I like your knife.
Can I have it?”
“Are you drinking vodka from a water
glass?” Lizzy laughed. “Of course you
can’t have my knife.”
Lizzy continued to flip through the
channels until she got back to the lady
selling jewelry.
“Nothing is as funny as QVC,” she said.
They sat for a moment and watched
as the drunk lady displayed a pair of pink
Diamonique Mother’s Day drop earrings.
53
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Then Joe said, “Can I cut you a little
with this knife?”
Lizzy was quiet.
So Joe said, “No, just a little. It won’t
hurt at all.”
Lizzy was still quiet.
Joe said, “Just like a little tiny baby
cut.”
Lizzy said nothing.
“You can even cut me first if you
want,” said Joe.
Lizzy said, “Why would I want to cut
you? Why would I want you to cut me?”
“Because it could be fun. You know,
blood equals entertainment, right?”
“No, wrong. That’s completely and
totally fucked up. I mean, I’d understand
if you wanted to be blood brothers. Do
you want to be blood brothers? But it
sounds… Are you some sort of serial
killer?”
“I just think, you know, it would be
fun.”
“QVC is fun. Not cutting people with
knives.”
“We’d just test it out. Do you even
know what your knife is capable of? Do
you even know if it works? In an
emergency, could it cut skin? If it had to?”
“It works for my purposes. Which are
cutting paper not people.”
54
Lizzy Acker —–––––––––––
“But you sort of want to try it a little,
right? You sort of wonder what it would
feel like and you definitely wouldn’t mind
the scar, right? I know you love scars.”
“Shut up.”
Lizzy watched the drunk lady for a
second.
“Why do you want to give me one?”
she said.
“Look,” said Joe. “Not only will this be
fun but also nobody has done this before
so we’ll be pioneers. It will be a
completely original thing to do.”
“And you want me to cut you first?
That’s it?”
“Easy peasy. You cut me; I cut you.”
“But, I don’t know, why would I do
that? It makes no sense. I’m just not sure I
want to make you bleed.”
“What else are we going to do?
Watch TV? This is a new fun thing. A better
thing.”
Lizzy tried to turn his attention back to
the television.
“But look,” she said. “The drunk lady is
selling rings.”
Joe rubbed the handle of the knife
and looked at her.
“Why do you want to cut me so
badly?” she said.
55
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“I want to try things,” he said. “Like
cutting your skin. I think the world needs us
to try this.”
“And then after can we be blood
brothers?” she said.
“I don’t know. What if you have a
disease? I have to think about that. Cut
me while I take it into consideration.”
Joe handed her the knife and Lizzy
held it for a moment, feeling its smooth
metal weight in her hand.
“This is going to be awesome, believe
me,” said Joe. “And totally original. And
better than QVC.”
She rubbed the handle of the knife
with her thumb and Joe stretched out his
arm and she held the blade up in the air
and looked at it.
“Where should I cut you?” she asked.
“Will this hurt a lot?”
“Not much. It’ll just be a little cut.”
Then he said, “Do it on the underside.
The soft part.”
Lizzy said, “Okay. I mean if you really
want me to do this.”
She held up the blade to the
underside of Joe’s arm. She pressed down
slowly and cautiously. Nothing happened.
“It’s not working,” she said. “Maybe I
can’t do it. Maybe the knife can’t cut
human flesh.”
56
Lizzy Acker —–––––––––––
“Press harder,” said Joe. “You just
have to press harder.”
Lizzy tried again, this time pressing
harder. Slowly she started to saw the knife
back and forth a little. Joe grimaced. She
kept trying. Lizzy sawed at his skin for
about fifteen seconds. Finally little dots of
red started to appear.
“There. Now you’re bleeding. Can I
stop?”
“A little more,” said Joe. “Try to get it
deeper.”
Lizzy continued to push the knife into
his skin. After a moment the cut started to
bleed more strongly.
“Okay, I’m done,” she said. “I guess
it’s your turn now.”
Joe looked approvingly at the blood
and took the knife from Lizzy’s hand.
“I better clean it off then,” he said. “I
don’t want you getting any horrible
disease.”
Lizzy said, “Well, if we’re blood
brothers, it won’t matter.”
Joe wiped the knife off on his pants.
He spit on it and wiped it off again.
Lizzy said, “Okay. I guess you get to
cut me now.”
Lizzy extended her arm. Joe took her
elbow and twisted it a little so the soft
inside part of her arm was exposed. Then,
57
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in one fast movement, Joe swiped the
knife crossways across her inner upper
arm. For a moment there was no blood.
Then Lizzy’s arm started bleeding. For a
second they both stared at the blood.
Someone handed the lady on QVC a
pitcher from off-camera and she filled her
cup.
“Okay,” said Lizzy. “Can you and me
be blood brothers now?”
Joe was quiet.
“Well, I’m bleeding, you’re bleeding,
why not then?” she said.
Joe was quiet for a second and then
said, “It’s just not the best idea, you
know?”
Joe wiped off the knife again on his
pants.
Lizzy said, “No, I don’t know. I mean, I
let you cut me. We should at least be
blood brothers now right?”
Joe licked his fingers and pressed
them into the cut. He lifted them up and
looked at the blood. Then he licked them
again and put them back on the cut.
“Why not then?” said Lizzy. “I just don’t
get this at all.”
Joe was quiet.
Lizzy said, “I let you cut me, which is
not exactly a normal thing, and now I
want to be blood brothers. Why are you
58
Lizzy Acker —–––––––––––
making me beg? Am I asking you to do
something awful?”
“Well I mean, there’s the fact that
you’re a girl,” said Joe.
“What?”
“Well technically we can’t be blood
brothers,” he said.
“Fine. Okay. Can we be blood siblings
then?”
“I just don’t think it’s the best idea.”
“I didn’t think it was the best idea to
let you cut me but I let you do it anyway.
So what about that?”
“No. I just don’t want to do it okay?”
Now Lizzy was quiet.
“Look, leave it alone,” said Joe. “The
drunk lady’s back.”
Lizzy was quiet.
“She’s talking about her husband
again,” said Joe.
Joe continued to watch the drunk
lady, laughing a little bit. Lizzy stared
straight ahead for a long moment. Finally,
still looking forward, she put the palm of
her hand on the cut to stop the bleeding.
59
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carpe noctem
My mother told me
the last time she and my father
had sex was after his chemotherapy.
He insisted they use a condom.
He said, I don’t know what’s in me.
He said, I don’t want it in you.
They were going at it when
the Jehovah’s Witnesses
knocked at the door.
It’s a message from God,
they said, and laughed and laughed
and then they didn’t.
They started kissing
again.
to act
as if our bodies
are messages
from god
to act with
the knowledge
that our bodies
are god
The point is
to learn that
we are radiant
now.
63
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64
Daphne Gottlieb —–––––––––––
Everything He Touches Turns to Candy
65
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Google. "Where are you, Chris?" So many
answers to that question.
Psychoeducational evaluation? Am I
crazy? Yes. But how do they know?
Behavioral Observations:
66
Chris Cole —–––––––––––
Chris was a blonde-headed, snaggle-toothed, big-
for-seven friendly youngster with a gleam in his
eye and an impish grin. He was a delight to work
with, conversation was no problem.
Oh.
69
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putting me through this. I wouldn't let
anyone do this to my son. No wonder I
don't remember this day. Why exactly did
I need psychoeducational therapy, and
what the hell does that even mean—
"This is you."
70
Chris Cole —–––––––––––
of the board for the non-profit
organization that the founder of the series
and publication just created. We went to
Zeitgeist for the afterparty. It's a Mission
District bar built around the messenger
bike ethos, whatever that is.
72
Chris Cole —–––––––––––
The Movie Quitters
74
Siamak Vossoughi —–––––––––––
cry over an Iranian movie, I am done with
them."
Over the next three weeks my uncle
read seventeen books. He told me about
them when I came to visit.
"Did you know that there are more
sheep than people in New Zealand?" he
said.
"Yes," I said.
"I have been sticking to it. No movies. I
have been remembering myself."
"That's good," I said.
"Yes," he said. "Come on. Let's go to
the video store. William's parents are
coming tomorrow. We need to find a
movie that is sad but not too sad. It
shouldn't take our saddest movie to make
them cry."
"I don't think there are any Iranian
movies that are sad but not too sad."
We went to the Iranian video store in
Bellevue. My uncle explained what he
was looking for to Mr. Houshang, the
owner.
"All movies are sad," Mr Houshang
said. "American or Iranian. Do you know
why?"
No, we said.
"Because when we watch them, we
see how hard we have been trying. Look
at them. Look at how hard they have to
75
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work to make a movie. Look at how many
people it takes. What is all that work for? It
is to try to be us. Good God, we have
been working hard."
He gave us a movie that he said was
sad but not because of anybody young
or beautiful dying.
"I think he is a wise man," I said when
we left.
"Yes," my uncle said. "I was not
prepared for that much wisdom. Maybe I
have been thinking about this all wrong. I
have been thinking of how much I have
been giving of myself to American
movies. I have not been thinking of what
American movies have been giving me."
My uncle was quiet for a while.
"All right, all right," he said. "But is it a
lot to ask for a two-way street? Is it a lot to
say that I would like to see an American
man cry as I have cried?"
"No," I said. "Or a woman."
"Or a woman," my uncle said.
The night that we watched the movie,
I was trying very hard to not look at
William's father and mother to see if an
American man or woman would cry
watching an Iranian movie. William's
father did not seem like the kind of man
who cried very often. He seemed like the
kind of man who cried over a movie
76
Siamak Vossoughi —–––––––––––
hardly ever. I thought my uncle was up
against it. He was going to be reading
books for a while.
The movie was wonderful and
beautiful and heartbreaking. My uncle
cried and I did too. It was our country and
we missed it and we didn't care what
anybody else thought.
"The hell with it," my uncle said. "I am
not watching any more Iranian movies. It
is too sad."
It was too sad. I didn't like to think that
there was a people just like us in every
way except for everything about us that
was from living in America and everything
about them that was from living in Iran. It
didn't make any sense. I understood why
my uncle had decided to quit watching
American movies. It was a lot just to be
from one place and watch the movies
from there.
"I wish I knew how you felt," William's
father said.
"What do you mean?" my uncle said.
"I would like to know how it feels to
feel a movie is too sad," William's father
said. "I have watched movies that are
sad, but the movie ends and I am back in
the world."
"What is it like when you are there?"
my uncle said.
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"Where?"
"Back in the world."
"I don't know. It is the world. I have
always been there."
"It is not the movie, it is the world," my
uncle said to me that night after
everybody had left. "It is like coming back
from a trip and seeing where we live for
the first time."
"Where do we live?"
"We live in America. But we also live
everywhere we've ever been. We might
also live in places we've never been. I
don't know. Sometimes I suspect that that
is the case. But the movie touches those
parts, those parts that have lived
everywhere. It is a very lucky thing to have
lived in more than one place, Hamid. It is
sad too, but in this world, it is a very lucky
thing."
I couldn't explain it, but I knew that he
was right. I thought that maybe I should
give up movies too, if it meant
understanding things like that.
78
Siamak Vossoughi —–––––––––––
WORDS
I tried to save it
by boiling it in water
but flecks of magic
fell and sizzled alongside
the grease by the flame.
79
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80
Shye Powers —–––––––––––
Stellar Cassidy
English 470
Prof. Van Meter
11 April 2011
81
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The corner is not just any busy street
corner, it’s a two fifty out the door malt
liquor-soaked corner oozing with angry
fixes and broken dreams, cigarette butts
and egos too big for their boxes. This
corner, a chalk circle for the excluded, a
soapbox for the mad, a stage for those
who desire an audience; a corner that
glows under orange streetlights,
sometimes rain-soaked, wet with the
tears of Bacchus and we have to replace
the chalk with candles on those nights,
but man is it tough to brave it on those
nights—rain or shine we still gotta go!
poets aren’t made of salt—Charlie
always says. Now Charlie is a character
that is hard to color and if you try to color
him you’ll probably have a hard time
staying inside the lines, but the best I can
say is that if the corner were an
orchestra—performers, spectators,
drunks, crackheads, passers by,
prostitutes, and police included—then he
would be the conductor. He helped build
this church, and he very rarely misses
those nights, even when it rains, and he
convinces us to sit on the wet pavement,
82
Stellar Cassidy —–––––––––––
engage in one round, then head over to
the pub for some warmth. Those kinds of
nights are especially common during
those winter months, but damn is it cold
during those winter months! All bundled
up with layers and layers and hats and
scarves and gloves and a bottle of
whiskey in a brown paper bag with a little
bit of soda to chase; and I’ll pull the
bottle out from my rain-stained ripped
bag and the bum next to me will say,
that’s the anti-freeze right there! I’m
trying my best to stay warm, so let’s sit a
little closer and get warm. But keep an
eye on your stuff ‘cuz some crack head
who lost their mind just a moment ago in
the alley up the block is looking for
anything to sell so they can get their two
bucks to score their next hit and they
might swipe your bag so keep it close.
Fish for another cigarette ‘cuz the
midnight mission wind ain’t got no mercy,
who’s up next? Is it that girl with the
melodica and heart shaped sunglasses,
you best not come to this corner with an
instrument and not play it, and you’ve
been here for an hour already girl, this
83
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ain’t no fashion show, everyone is looking
at you which means you should probably
get up there. But no, it’s your first time
and you don’t know the rules yet and
you can’t get over your stage fright—
someone get that girl more whiskey!—
and we’ll all listen to the notes you’re not
playing. Everyone knows if you can
perform here then you can perform
anywhere, it’s a tough crowd but if they
dig you they’ll let you know. So, the
young man with the curly hair and the
fancy guitar that he spent all of his
student loans on has been here before
and been here for a little while and is
jonesin to get in that circle. When you’re
jonesin that hard you better have
something brand spankin’ new or
something genius cuz we’re all here
sitting on the sidewalk in the cold
waiting…everyone here is waiting for
something…waiting for BART, waiting for
MUNI, waiting for art, waiting for the
second coming, waiting for a fix, waiting
for someone, waiting for something to
happen, which is why you gotta be
quick, like a praying mantis. Feel the vibe
84
Stellar Cassidy —–––––––––––
out, jump in, do it, own it, and leave ‘em
wanting more. The collective mood of
the entire night is based upon whoever is
in there right now and there are a lot of
people here right now so don’t fuck it up
‘cuz crowd control is tough, and this
crowd is cold, high, and waiting. So the
young man with the curly hair and the
fancy guitar starts playing a tune and
people start quieting down a bit, this is a
good start. He belts out the lyrics like a
poet on his way out of hell and the
crowd starts nodding their heads in
approval, but goddammit the sirens are
on their way, PAUSE.
WoooooooooOOOooooo… and for a
second you can’t hear anything except
for the obnoxious blare signaled by red
flashing lights, two cop cars and a fire
truck, three times as bad. Those who got
something to hide call five-oh and
bounce to somewhere more secret—this
a rough block—but that’s the corner
man, you gotta compete with the street
sometimes, and the fancy guitar’s still
going and he’s now stomping his feet for
some solid percussion, nothing’s gonna
85
—––––––––––– sPARKLE & bLINK
stop that man from playin’ and he’s
made that very clear. Then the sirens turn
the corner, and PLAY. We’re back. The
crowd starts clapping to help the guy
out. Rule of thumb: when in trouble, turn
to percussion, cuz audience participation
works on you side, and you’d surely be a
square to break a beat. Then an older
street thug approaches me, hey pretty
girl you need rocks? No thank you I say,
no rocks for me, I got my antifreeze and
my moleskin open and bookmarked cuz
I’m trying to get up in that circle but the
girl with the melodica and heart shaped
sunglasses just now got over her stage
fright—someone must’ve given her some
more whiskey—and now she’s waiting
patiently at the outer rim of the circle so
by the unwritten code, she gets to go
next. Fancy guitar is now finishing up his
song and managed to collect a little bit
of sweat above his top lip which speaks
in volumes on a night as cold as this…
at this street corner,
where the booze is cold
but the chalk is hot,
a bird box in the sky,
86
Stellar Cassidy —–––––––––––
a church for the ravenous
and the high,
a corner that we keep
brown paper-bagged
in our back pockets
to pull out and keep
ourselves warm.
87
—––––––––––– sPARKLE & bLINK
88
Stellar Cassidy —–––––––––––
Kill The Lights
And so
when Mikey says,
"This is our time,
This is our time down
here"
Through an asthmatic wheeze
in The Goonies
I hear that as prophesy too
I take that line to mean that
All we really need is each other
To get it right the next time
around
92
Nic Burrose —–––––––––––
SOUNDS from The Secret Secretaries’ forthcoming
album Poetry is Dead
We all disappear
so far from here
Above the atmosphere
we will disappear
94
The Secret Secretaries —–––––––––––
Broken Record Blues
96
The Secret Secretaries —–––––––––––
XOXO
there's no need
to be sad baby
so don't go giving me
those sad green eyes
oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
don't lock me
outside your stupid house
it's cold and quieter then
a m.m.m.m.m.mouse.
oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
98
The Secret Secretaries —–––––––––––
Get Well (Soon)
99
—––––––––––– sPARKLE & bLINK
His girl up and left one day and
cheatin’hearts burn bad when you’re
alone
his best-friend took a ride to the hospital
and never returned home
He stares into his broken bathroom mirror
and he sees a ghost
Lights a Bic in a bathroom stall, shaking in
his bones
101
—––––––––––– sPARKLE & bLINK
untitled
i was in bed
you thought i was reading
you thought i was dreaming
but i was just sleeping
forever
102
The Secret Secretaries —–––––––––––
COLLAGE
i asked my girlfriends
what they thought of you
they whispered bad news
103
—––––––––––– sPARKLE & bLINK
But this is not a confessional
what should i do
they whispered
cut him loose
i can try
but i’m not promising anything
104
The Secret Secretaries —–––––––––––
So strangely,
one is tempted to believe
that nothing is happening;
and they are told as
encouragement to seek
in hopes of finding
provincial you
unnamed me
no more shadowing
something that doesn’t move
anymore
provincial me
you so bred right
no more hiding in the light
of something that doesn’t care
about losing
anything
106
The Secret Secretaries —–––––––––––
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