ISSUE 36 | JAN 2014

MODESTY

Illustration by Fontaine Capel

a « hapax legomenon » etched into Internet stone - allowed to roam the ether rambling algorhythmically - But there's nothing there! exclaimed David in horror - hotel message boards are particularly rich - the golem's poor sweeping skills - « he believeableizes she is in hopeless want » - this contemporary zeal for the originality - (« transcendent sprite » 37)

Sara Pheasant

A Modest Shelter

her grave becomes a welcome shelter - anchorship was a porous occupation - staining Christ's body in a gristly rainbow of red, brown, blue, and green - the trinity's triangle collapses - unsanctified discourse that slides bellyfirst - was Julian's cell the same size as the hospital room - he traded pen for pencil - « I'm not here to write, I'm here to be mad »

Dorothy Howard

Jared Fogle and Bush-Era Diet Culture: Corporate Evangelicals and the Folk-Hero Syndrome

an American who overcame the American obesity problem - different hydra heads in the corporation - his presence, to touch him, to take a selfie - « the pants » alone have an undeniable aura - the same year that Kanye West emerged from the womb - the normative American body - but Jared was a midwesterner - if you can't control your president as he turns your nation to shit

Michelle Bentsman

The Last Look

but a napkin is so rarely peeled - la petite mort now grand - covertly stealing glances at each other's wrists - without the skin, Kristeva's concept of abject did not apply - the fornicating corpses - hints of dull cranberry where blood has pooled beneath the surface - we were checking to make sure it was the right body - if the funeral selfie is too little

Galen Beebe

Modesty at her Vanity

I'm a hoarder of memories - the stuff in the closet - there are no mirrors - how much I enjoyed each kiss, how much shame I felt afterwards - being seen is like death - this is what I write in my journal, this is what I'm scared of - you're reading into it - you may have a pseudonym; your character may not be human - what I've authored disappears

Ray Osborn

The Soul Stuck, (Hell itself is an Autobiography), or Autobiography from Hell

checkmate your will - what kind of prize would I want anyway? - my autobiography which is actually your biography - teem it with talc - but this is law - between the pupil and the target - I see in your work some trees that you've bought - splatter / across four anapests - my deer tracks, or shouldn't I say my fox tracks - am now dolled up in doubt - let me tell you, dear reader