tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40845033509316467692024-03-05T18:10:30.800-08:00Microstory A WeekSteve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.comBlogger170125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-23057850583697054432015-11-04T09:34:00.001-08:002015-11-04T10:28:33.146-08:00Defining Even<div class="t pg-1m0 pg-1x0 pg-1h1 pg-1y0 pg-1ff1 pg-1fs0 pg-1fc0 pg-1sc0 pg-1ls0 pg-1ws0">
<strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By M.J.Iuppa</span></strong></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1.in the beginning, her talk was small– nothing too serious, mostly about horses, about pleasure riding in the country<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>,<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span> seeing fields & woods through the optical illusion of two perked ears.there, on a back of a horse, she found balance. 2. sync– that is, in sound & harmony<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>, t<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>he<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span> juicy suck of giddyup, the even clomp of hooves. 3. music to her ears & ever<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span>yone agrees. 4. an evening hour of bliss, her coon cat curls in her lap & purrs, <span class="pg-1ff3">poor world, poor world</span>. the<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span> next day he disappears. footprints zigzag on the hood of the neighbor<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span>’s<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span> red corvette. he’s<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span> left her a note about her cat. 5. in her mind, loss is the thunder of ice heaving on the lake. she can’t make its steady pounding stop. she watches the red corvette parked on the street. 6. s<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span>till missing. she buys a five pound bag of sugar<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>. 7. hands that can handle a horse’<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>s<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span> delicate mouth peel back the sealed sugar bag, uncap the gas cap, and pour,<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span> clean & even. 8. inside she hears the muffled choke & gasp of the car<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span>’s<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span> engine. she peers through the crack in her curtain. small drama.<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span> the door slams. the tow truck arrives. 9. she smiles. this is getting even. she hears a low yowl and a slow scratch on the back door.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Copyright ©2015 M.J. Iuppa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All rights reserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Note</strong>: This story was originally published in <i id="yui_3_16_0_1_1446661488448_2992">Quarter After Eight.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span></span><o:p><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1446659054669_2497" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">M.J. Iuppa lives on Red Rooster Farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Most recent poems, lyric essays and fictions have appeared in the following journals: <i id="yui_3_16_0_1_1446659054669_2501">Poppy Road Review Black Poppy Review,Digging to the Roots, 2015 Calendar, Ealain, Poetry Pacific Review, Grey Sparrow Press: Snow Jewel Anthology, 100 Word Story, Avocet, Eunoia Review, Festival Writer, Silver Birch Press: Where I Live Anthology,Turtle Island Quarterly, Wild Quarterly, Boyne Berries Magazine (Ireland), The Lake, (U.K.), Punchnel’s; forthcoming in Camroc Review, Tar River Poetry, Corvus Review, Clementine Poetry, Postcard</i> Poetry & <i>Prose,</i> among others.<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1446659054669_2500"> </span>She is the Director of the Visual and Performing Arts Minor Program at St. John Fisher College. You can follow her musings on art, writing and sustainability on mjiuppa.blogspot.com.</span></span></o:p></span></div>
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-33744123124972693172015-10-28T07:02:00.000-07:002015-10-28T07:02:54.988-07:00Like Venus<b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">By Michael Koenig<o:p></o:p></span></span></b><br />
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1445357403472_1978"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Jade and I consummated our love for the first and only time on a blood stained bed in a safehouse in Juarez, once considered the most dangerous city in the world. Paco insisted on referring it as a budget hotel, though it didn’t appear on any of the maps they handed out repeatedly to the few tourists that remained.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1445357403472_2049"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">A few minutes earlier, Jade had sent her boyfriend away to buy more cigarettes and summoned me into their room. This was the moment I’d been living for the past three months, that and the money. My head was spinning as I tried to summon up the concentration to fuck Jade properly. I was drunk and dirty and spent from jerking off in the car, and the safehouse was the loudest place in the world. I kept telling Jade to keep quiet, thinking about some other girl to goad myself into cumming. She squealed as I pulled out my firehose and dribbled a load on her back. </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">Seconds later, Paco knocked as he was entering to ask us if we needed more towels. I rushed to cover myself. Jade just lay there like Venus.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Wonderful, </span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">she said. <i>Just wonderful.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">I was never sure that Jade liked me until she saw me with a gun. Two days earlier, back home in Minnesota, two people had died, ostensibly by our hand. I’d known both men forever, or at least chatted with them every day, and didn’t feel a damn bit sorry, because I’d never intended to do anyone any harm. I really only wanted the money. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">I’d been a loyal-enough employee of Associated Allied for more than 20 years, and resentment had settled in my belly like a heavy breakfast. All I knew about the company was everything, and yet I was required to bow and scrape to younger men with a haircut and an Ivy League education.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">My plans for fixing the situation remained largely theoretical until I met Jade at a bar called the Hide-A-Way. She flirted over to my table to get my extra chair, the one I was resting my coat on, and triumphantly presented it to her boyfriend. Soon their conversation spilled over to my table. They were arguing about the split from some robbery they’d temporarily gotten away with. The liquor led me to explain how Associated Allied receives large shipments of cash from the branch offices every Tuesday. I’d pretend to be scared while Hal tended to the hostages, Ben would grab the money and Jade would perch at the guard desk, giving him the whole five-day forecast. The job would be easy, and we’d make a million at least.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">When the big day came, I inserted a gun into my waistband to make I got my split, and when my friend Larry came creeping up behind Hal I fired, then shot Sam when he was foolish enough to chase us. It was easy, easier than asking out a pretty girl. And after a brief stop to pick up our clothes, we piled into Hal’s car and headed straight for the border. I insisted on carrying the money. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">Three days later we arrived at the safehouse. Paco greeted us at the door, rambling on about the local attractions like an autistic concierge. We hated the way he looked at us, a full-bellied dog begging for food. I handed him fifty cents to carry my trash bag full of clothes to the room. He told us he had family in Chicago. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">We aint from Chicago,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> I replied. The idiots laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">That night, I left most of the money in the hotel safe. Paco warned me not to put anything too valuable there. I told him it was just a bunch of old paper. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">Once the liquor had served its purpose, Jade and I returned to our bed. I was too drunk to check on the money. The best part was seeing Hal’s reaction as he skulked off to the room he and Ben were now sharing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">I made a halfhearted pass; too tired.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">I slept until five in the morning, when the combined police forces of two countries came knocking at our door. We were sure it was Paco who turned us in; later we found out Jade had left her cell phone at the bar. They shot me first because I had the temerity to pick up my gun, then shot Jade as she tried to get away. Blood squirted onto the lens of my glasses, rendering me temporarily blind. I was wounded, but otherwise fine. Jade kept wandering down the hall, leaving a hemoglobin trail to remind herself of where we’d left the money. Hal and Ben got away, for three days at least.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">The cops asked Jade and me where the money was, then gave us a ride to the hospital. People are always so kind when you’re bleeding. The doctors made heroic efforts to save her. They wanted to know where the money was too. I told the police the truth, that I’d been duped, and they allowed me to testify against the other three. They’re on death row, waiting on their own special day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">The cops never did find the money. It was the one thing that kept me alive, throughout my five-year ordeal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">As soon as I regained my freedom, I returned to Juarez to settle my business with Paco, in violation of my parole. People said he now owned a large tourist hotel. As soon as I saw his bodyguards, I realized I’d never get back my money.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Where the fuck is my money?,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> I said to the smiling fat man sitting behind a fat man’s desk, teeth crunching fistfuls of hard candy. Paco pretended I was joking as his bodyguards swept me out with the offer of free drink tokens. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">I sat at the bar, soaking in bullshit margaritas drowned out by tourist mariachi, trying to get up my courage for the ass-kicking that was soon to follow. And then I headed back to my room.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Copyright ©2015 Michael Koenig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All rights reserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.</span></span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"># # #</span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><strong>AUTHOR BIO</strong></span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;">Michael Koenig is a writer, editor, and designer in Oakland, California whose<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1445357403472_2060"> stories have appeared in recent issues of <i>The MacGuffin, Harpur Palate, Hardboiled, </i>and the <i>Paterson Literary Review.</i> His work has also been anthologized in <b id="yui_3_16_0_1_1445357403472_2062">Awake! A Reader for the Sleepless</b> (Soft Skull Press) and <b id="yui_3_16_0_1_1445357403472_2059">The Shamus Sampler 2,</b> an international detective fiction collection.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-1164016424980133772015-10-21T09:52:00.004-07:002015-11-04T09:51:12.206-08:00Curvatures for Afternoons<strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By Peter Baltensperger</span></strong><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was in the Gallery of Chimeras high atop Notre Dame Cathedral that Gisli Rathor could have met the man who might have changed her entire life, but the gargoyles were much too disturbing with their grotesque bodies and distorted faces. Hunched in the four corners of the gallery, they kept staring at her from dead eyes, strutting their frozen humps, their weathered limbs. Gisli didn’t quite know where to look, although the River Seine far down below provided her with some relief. She wouldn’t have paid much attention to any man, even if one had been there. The gargoyles were more than enough deformed masculinity for her mind.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She went to Venice by herself and treated herself to a gondola ride along one of the quiet canals. She watched her reflection in the calm water and was surprised that it wasn’t the same anymore, even though she had taken plenty of photographs of the gargoyles and the chimeras. An Italian gelato in a café along the canal made her forget where she had been. She knew when to let go, despite the fact that she held tightly on to herself wherever she went. She only trusted herself, even when it rained. It didn’t rain much in Venice. She hadn’t brought an umbrella, only her camera, to remind herself.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then she did meet the man in Rome, in front of the Coliseum. They were taking the same photographs from the same spot, then went inside and took more identical photographs, the way vacations sometimes go. They couldn’t agree on what it meant, or on the significance of the ruins. Gisli only knew that she was there and that she was accumulating visual proof of her being there. Little else mattered. The sun was shining in vain, the pigeons cooed to themselves, the ruins reflected what was and what had once been. The man was at the center of her universe, at the center of the amphitheater of her mind, and she had a photograph to prove that as well.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Up in her hotel room, they found themselves caught up in a whole new turbulence far from the sacred stillness of the ancient ruins. The clock on the wall turned itself upside down, making it difficult to keep track. They could see the River Tiber from their window, entwined as they were. It still didn’t make any sense. Gisli kept trying to listen to the waves to keep herself anchored to herself, only to lose herself over and over again underneath the upside down clock, in the darkly mysterious shadows of the man.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Somewhere in some other universe, the waters of the Seine and the Tiber and the Venetian canals poured into a giant lake full of primordial reflections, ancient memories, fragile thoughts. Gisli saw her face in the lake, transformed beyond anything she had ever seen, and she still didn’t understand. Perhaps her photographs would help, if she ever managed to get back to herself again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; punctuation-trim: leading; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Copyright ©2015 Peter Baltensperger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All rights reserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial";"># # #</span></div>
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<strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial";"></span></strong><span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial";">AUTHOR BIO</span></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Peter Baltensperger is a Canadian writer of Swiss origin and the author of ten books of </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">poetry<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>, fiction, and non-fiction. His latest book is a collection of flash fiction,<span style="background-color: white;"> <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Inside-Outside-Journey-Sudden-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00A0GPGT4" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span class="pg-1ff2">Inside </span></span></a></em></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Inside-Outside-Journey-Sudden-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00A0GPGT4" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">fro<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>m the Outside: A Journey in Sudden Fict<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span>ion</span></a></em> <span class="pg-1ff1">(available<span class="_ pg-1_2"></span> from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/gw/ajax/s.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Amazon</span></a>). His work has </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">appeared in print and on-line in several hundred publications around the world over the </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">past several decades. He makes his home in London, Canada with his wife V<span class="_ pg-1_1"></span>i<span class="_ pg-1_0"></span>ki and their </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">four cats.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial";"># # #</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: black;">If you enjoyed this story, you might want to also check out another story written by Peter (</span><a href="http://microstoryaweek.blogspot.com/2012/10/nocturnal-tableaux.html" target="_blank"><em><span style="color: black;">Nocturnal Tableaux</span></em></a><span style="color: black;">), published on this site in October 2012. <em>Nocturnal</em> was republished in Peter's aforementioned anthology<em> Inside from the Outside).</em></span></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: "arial";"></span></em><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsjPf2w-bmevqiNOXxQIM8HmzXQlgB4hsctUKix88HrVnsrmYutMbr8cNSCJG3OqneNe-dS2C2-gGeB8LCuw6BnRtIfimojZf-26eOAI_sgQZXGKRrrIB22xtnn_coe7uPUnAM-O1ucRo/s1600/inside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsjPf2w-bmevqiNOXxQIM8HmzXQlgB4hsctUKix88HrVnsrmYutMbr8cNSCJG3OqneNe-dS2C2-gGeB8LCuw6BnRtIfimojZf-26eOAI_sgQZXGKRrrIB22xtnn_coe7uPUnAM-O1ucRo/s320/inside.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-8578584287151781312015-10-14T07:06:00.001-07:002015-10-14T19:48:38.462-07:00Señor Gordo <span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><strong>By Terrance Aldon Shaw</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">Señor Gordo is
never not hungry. Little <i id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3983">cabron’s</i>
always complaining about it, and, of course, I’m the one who has to sit there
and listen to him 24/7.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3984" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3980" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Man! It’s been six whole months—”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3979" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3978" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Weeks.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3986" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3977" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Whatever! We never go anywhere.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3970" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3971" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Aw, Geez! Don’t start with that again.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3973" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3975" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3974"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“You
thinking about joining the priesthood or something?”</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3972" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3976" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“At least I <i>think</i>—”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3996" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3995"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—therefore
you suck,” Señor Gordo laughs at his own cleverness. “What’s the matter
with you anyway, Mr. I-know-what’s-best for everybody?”</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3997" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Like you can’t figure it out?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“How come we
never go out anymore, <i>jeffe</i>?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3998" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_3999" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Maybe because you’re always embarrassing us.” I say.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—or maybe
because you’re always thinking too much, <i>El</i> <i>Gran Cerebro</i>!”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4000" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4002" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4001"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Well,
somebody has to. For Pete's sakes! I’m not the one who practically splooged on
that pole dancer’s hooters in Omaha. They were gonna call the cops for crying
out loud!”</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Ha! Good
times! Good times!”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Are you
kidding? I was scared shitless. Did you see the size of that bouncer?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Did you see
the size of that stripper’s <i>titas</i>? Besides, we could have taken that
doorman—<i>no problemo!</i>”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4005" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“See, there ya go—”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4006" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4004" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4003"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“C’mon,
amigo! All I’m saying is that maybe you should try pulling your weight a little
more.”</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“I pull plenty
of weight. I carry you around, don’t I?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“You’ve got
serious issues, dude. Lighten up a little. Try and have some fun—Hey! Remember
that Portuguese <i>chica</i> at that diner in Texas? <i>Mui caliente,</i> <i>no?</i>
Why didn’t you try talking to her?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Here we go—”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“The mother
wasn’t bad either. <i>Ay!</i> <i>Madre que me gustaria coger!</i> I’d have
loved to—” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“What? Do the
two of them together? That bitch would have cut off our balls and served ‘em up
in the soup of the day if she even thought we’d looked sideways at the <i>hija</i>—”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“C’mon, man!
Where’s your spirit of adventure?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—besides
which, that <i>muchacha</i> was only fourteen—or didn’t you notice? Talk about
adventures! You want us to end up in prison—in <i>Texas?</i>”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Better that
than in the priesthood. You going <i>maricon</i> on me, bro?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“What is it
with you, Gordo? I just can’t figure you out sometimes.” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“<i>No es
dificil, jeffe</i>. All I want is to have some fun. Is that too much to ask?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“How did we
ever end up together like this? Me, a pasty-faced Swede from Minnesota; you, a
loudmouthed <i>verga</i> from Jalisco who talks like the second-coming of
Cheech, joined at the groin like trans-ethnic Siamese twins because of some
massive cosmic bureaucratic snafu—”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4010" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“You think <i>you</i> got it bad? You should see the poor
<i>baboso</i> from Guadalajara who got stuck with your lily-white <i>pinga</i>!”
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4009" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4008" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4007"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—Geez
Louise! It’s like a scenario for one of those braindead sit-coms on Fox—” </span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—starring
Señor Gordo, with Jessica Alba as the Beaver!” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—more like
being in hell, stuck together for all eternity.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Well, it’s not
hard to see who gets the better end of that deal!”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Says you, <i>Cerebro
Pequeño</i>.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“<i>Chingate,
gilipollas!</i> You’re just a stick in the mud.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“And you’re a
lousy excuse for a cock!”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“You tryin’ to
start a cock fight with a Mexican, <i>gringo</i>?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“The point is,
that whole thing about dicks having minds of their own is just a silly
metaphor—a convenient excuse guys use to behave like—well, for lack of a better
word—dicks. It’s not a real thing. <i>You’re</i> not a real thing—” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—says the <i>culero
loco</i> who talks to his own <i>pollo</i>.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“You’ve messed
up my life, gotten into my head, embarrassed me, alienated every woman I’ve
ever been interested in, and forced me to wear flesh-colored condoms for Pete’s
sake!” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“Hey! Don’t go
putting no <i>globitos</i> on me, man! That wasn’t my idea—no way!” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
</span><div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4027" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4026"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN;">“—Can
you blame me for being just the slightest bit frustrated? Can you see how all
that would possibly—”</span></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<br />
<div class="yiv1736161540msonormal" id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4013" style="margin: 0in 0.5in 0pt 0in;">
<span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1444876477593_4023"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Whoa,
dude! D’you see the April centerfold? <i>Ay ay ay</i> <i>muchacho</i>! I am in <i>loooove!</i>”</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Copyright ©2015 Terrance Aldon Shaw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All rights reserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.</span></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"># # #</span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span><br /><span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><strong>AUTHOR BIO</strong></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span lang="EN" style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">TERRANCE ALDON SHAW’s current project is a collection of “mature literary” short fiction (50 stories ranging from 50 to 3500 words) entitlted <i>The Moon-Haunted Heart</i>. He blogs, and shares the occasional story at Erotica for the Big Brain. Among TAS’ other titles are the anthologies <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Six-Erotic-Tales-Complete-Entertainments-ebook/dp/B007RR63XC/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Six Erotic Tales</span></a></i> and <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kiss-Off-Devil-9-Short-Stories-ebook/dp/B00K39AREW/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Kiss-Off the Devil (9 Short Stories)</span></a></em>. On-going endeavors include <i>The Erotic Writer’s Thesaurus (With Notes on Usage)</i>. Contact TAS at </span><a href="mailto:taldonshaw@gmail.com" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">taldonshaw@gmail.com</span></a><span style="color: black;">.</span></span></div>
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-77698874897568517292015-10-07T00:15:00.001-07:002015-10-13T16:20:20.758-07:00Black Dog<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By Kurt Newton</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A boy went down the block, door to door, asking those who answered, "Have you seen my dog?" He held a printout of a mutt--black coat, floppy ears, droopy eyes. Smiles were smiled, heads shook, advice was offered, but no one had seen the pet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The boy continued on to the poor side of town. Even fewer people answered their door. Some even warned him he shouldn't be out by himself, and where were his parents? None had seen the dog. The boy thanked them just the same and continued his search.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the outskirts of town the boy came to a trailer park. He knocked on doors that rattled like dog cages. Sometimes his knock wasn't heard above the volume of the television inside or the loud voices shouting at each other. Again, those who answered offered no help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The boy continued along a narrow road that led to a string of mansions, each buried deep in the woods. At the first mansion an older man answered a fancy sounding doorbell. He seemed not to hear the boy when shown the picture and asked about the dog. Instead the man stared at the boy as if he were made of gold. "It's getting dark," the man at last spoke. "You must be hungry. I have cookies and milk. I could make you a sandwich. Why don't you come in?" The man stepped aside to let the boy enter. The boy walked in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soon after the door closed, screams could be heard, but no one heard them because of the mansion's remote location. Not long after the screams ended, the door opened again and out walked a dog--black coat, floppy ears, droopy eyes. The dog traveled back the way the boy had come. He was home before dark.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Copyright ©2015 Kurt Newton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All rights reserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"># # #</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>AUTHOR BIO</strong></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kurt's stories have appeared in <em>Weird Tales</em>, <em>Dark Discoveries</em> and <em>Shroud</em>. He also has a flash piece in the upcoming return of <em>Weirdbook</em>.</span></div>
Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-57092359525091556142015-09-30T14:29:00.002-07:002015-09-30T15:57:56.154-07:00Peragua<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>By Emily J. McNeely</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The <i>Greek Galleon</i> put in
near Peragua on the Ile du Roy. Captain James set out in the launch with
Greene, Castle, Kirkpatrick, and Mr. Dobson, the purser. They brought the
spices for Piney and letters of introduction. Piney knew Captain James well,
and in fact, had seen him and his crew not three months earlier, when they
stopped for water. Unbeknownst to Piney, they had also come to drop off a
certain lockbox for safe keeping. Piney had recently gotten word that a Navy
brigantine was seen running down the Malabar Coast looking for James and his
ship and he was under no small amount of pressure from the Crown to report on
James' activities. Consequently, he was not in a generous mood.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
When they arrived at Piney's estate, a honey-colored servant girl with large
brown eyes brought them into the waiting hall and bade them wait. They waited
for an hour. Captain James was pacing. It was never a good sign when the
Captain resorted to pacing on land. <br />
<br />
Mr. Greene was the first to speak. "Captain James, if I may, sir. You
could send Dobson and myself to collect the...canvas...while you and the others
wait for the governor."<br />
<br />
Captain James stopped his pacing and eyed Mr. Greene carefully. He looked at
Mr. Dobson, who knew nothing of what went on among the higher officers and was
at the moment picking his nose. He made his decision and nodded at Greene. Mr.
Greene collected Mr. Dobson and they left the manor.<br />
<br />
Greene and Dobson walked down the long road and came into town half an hour
later. Mr. Dobson was aware of the lockbox's existence but he was not privy to
its location; only Greene and Castle were trusted with that information. Mr.
Greene planned in advance to arrange to have a letter sent back home and had
found his opportunity. He might not get to leave just yet but he could surely
send word. <br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></span><br />
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<span class="yiv2282555710"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Greene pulled Dobson into the Fille
D'Or, Peragua's main drinking hole. He sent Dobson off to order drinks with the
barman and called over another patron to his table. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">"Listen, friend. I've got two pieces that could
be used to post a letter to Father George, if only I knew a friend who could do
it for me," said Greene in a low voice.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">The other man, a native looking fellow with an older
style Navy uniform nodded and stuck out his hand. Mr. Greene handed him a
sealed paper. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">"I'll drink with <i>le fille</i> again tomorrow
in the evening," said Greene, and looked down at the table. The other man
left without another word. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Mr. Dobson came over to the table a minute later with
two pints in hand. "Oy, Greene, you best be payin me back for these 'ere
pints. I ain't made o' silver y'know.</span><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span></span></div>
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<span class="yiv2282555710"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr. Greene nodded. "Aye, Dobson, you're safe
with me."</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span></span><br />
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<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">It was well past dark by the time Dobson and Greene
made it back to Piney's manor. They went up the long walk with the lockbox in
hand, and the same servant girl let them into the parlor. Captain James, Mr.
Kirkpatrick, Mr. Castle, and Piney were playing at cards and a sideboard was
laid out with meats and cheeses. Captain James had a pile of money by his hand
and was in a better mood than Greene had seen him in months.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Captain James looked up when they entered. "Took
you swabs long enough. And a good thing too, else I'd not have collected
Piney's bribery income." </span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Piney frowned and put his cards down. "Oh, I
fold. I don't know why I don't just turn you into the law, James. God knows
you're worth more to them."</span><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<span class="yiv2282555710"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">James swept up the pot. "Because I bring you
cinnamon, Piney. And better news than those tight-lipped saluters."</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Piney stuck his fat fingers into his waistcoat and <i>harrumphed</i>.
"I'll need more than cinnamon and gossip before I let you leave my
port."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">The men of the <i>Galleon </i>started pocketing their
coins and collecting their gear. James gestured to Dobson, who handed him the
lockbox. The Captain opened the lockbox to display a pile of bank notes,
letters of recommendation and introduction, coins of all kinds, and a few
pieces of jewelry. He pulled out a small draw purse which clinked when he shook
it and plopped it on the table. Piney swept it into his pockets, which were
deeper than they appeared. James also pulled out one of the necklaces, which
sparkled in the flickering light of the lamps.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">"And something for your hospitality."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
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<span class="yiv2282555710"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That, too, got swept into the depths of Piney's
waistcoat. He patted his generous stomach and stood to leave. "Welcome to
Peragua, gentlemen. Don't overstay your welcome." Piney went out of the
parlor and up the long staircase and the maid saw the men out. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
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#<br />
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<span class="yiv2282555710">The next day Mr. Castle left a skeleton crew on board
the <i>Galleon</i> and the rest of the men came ashore on longboats with strict
instructions to return and relieve the others by midday. The officers, less Mr.
Kirkpatrick, who stayed on board to supervise the skeleton crew, headed for the
Fille D'Or. Mr. Greene sweated under his cap and not just because of the humid
tropics. If he should run into the native fellow at the bar he was unsure how
he would explain it to the Captain.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Captain James, Mr. Dobson, and Mr. Greene entered the
bar. It was less close than English bars and less smoky than Indian bars. The
bars in the tropics were often informal affairs - rude thatched huts and the
like. This one was a true brick-and-mortar building, but it kept its doors wide
open and its ceiling low in the same fashion as the other establishments on the
island. The natives of the land knew how to keep the breezes moving through
their perpetual summers.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">The three sat at a table and doffed their hats,
except Captain James, who never removed his unless he was abed. It was a good
breeze that morning and the air refreshed them. James sent Dobson for drinks
and turned to Mr. Greene.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span class="yiv2282555710"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"How are the drinks in this
establishment?"</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Mr. Greene felt the heat rise up in his cheeks.
"I expect they're good enough."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">"Expect? Don't you know?" Captain James
said, calmly.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Mr. Greene shifted in his chair. The bar didn't feel
very open anymore. "I'm sure I don't, sir."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">"But were you not here when we ported at Peragua
not three months ago?" said Captain James, maintaining an air of
innocence.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Mr. Greene let out his breath. "Oh, that. Yes,
sir, I did come in here on our last furlough."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Dobson came back at that moment with three pints. He
looked at the two men at the table. "Did I miss somefin'?"</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">The Captain did not take his eyes off Mr. Greene.
"No, Dobson. We were just speaking of the quality of the drink here at the
Fille."</span></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span class="yiv2282555710"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dobson set down the drinks and plopped down in his
own seat. "Oh, aye, the drinks 'ere are top quality. They was particular
fine last night, ey wot, Greene? He still owes me from it, too."</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">The blood dropped out of Greene's stomach and he
couldn't meet Captain James' eyes. Captain James grin spread across his lips -
the fish caught. "You do, do you, Greene?" </span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Mr. Dobson, oblivious, kept chattering. "He said
he was good for it. I 'spect so, considerin' the haul. You brought cards,
sir?"</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Captain James did not answer. He stared at Mr.
Greene. "Well, George. Are you going to pay the man back?"</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Mr. Greene nodded and fumbled in his pocket. He
pulled out a silver coin and dropped it out of his shaking hands onto the
floor. He reached to pick it up again and handed it toward Dobson. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">Just as Dobson extended his hand for the coin, a
short metallic shriek sounded and a silver sword flashed through the air. Mr. Greene's
arm fell to the table, severed just below the elbow, the hand still clutching
the silver coin. Blood splattered across the table and floor. Captain James
stood and drew the sword around in a wide arc, slicing off Mr. Greene's head.
The head toppled off the body and landed on the floor with a <i>thunk</i>. Mr.
Greene's body slumped in the chair.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="yiv2282555710">"I told you, Greene, I would kill you before you
spent a penny." </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Captain James sent Mr. Dobson for a
rag to clean his sword and sat back in his chair. A serving girl came over to
collect the hand (from which Dobson had already pried loose the silver coin)
and wipe up the table. Dobson brought back the rag and Captain James cleaned
his sword and wiped his boots. He sheathed the sword and pulled out his cards.<br />
<br />
"Mr. Dobson, do you think you could find me a native man wearing a
uniform?"<br />
<br />
Dobson nodded his head. "I know the one ye speak of. I seen him last
night."<br />
<br />
"Good. He's got a letter for me, I believe." </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Copyright ©2015
Emily J. McNeely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All rights reserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not reproduce in any form, including
electronic, without the author’s express permission.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"># # #</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">AUTHOR BIO:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span id="yiv9198433085yui_3_16_0_1_1437067150498_3718"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Emily McNeely is the Art and Acquisitions Coordinator at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/doublelifepress/timeline/" target="_blank">Double Life Press</a>, an independent publishing house she and her husband, Craig McNeely, own and operate. Emily has been published in <em>Pulp Modern</em> magazine and <em>Dark Corners</em> magazine.</span> </span></span></span></span></div>
</div>
Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-24881092971102206702015-07-04T01:20:00.001-07:002015-07-04T12:32:30.896-07:00**One of my stories, My First Love, in three confessional parts, was published on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my mainstream stories, <em><a href="http://erotica-readers.com/GD/S/ERWA-My_First_Love.htm"><span style="color: #5588aa;">My First Love, in three confessional parts</span></a></em>, was published on the </span><a href="http://erotica-readers.com/ERA/index.htm"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Erotica Readers and Writers Association</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (ERWA) website. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">This briefly sexual, sometimes romantic, always blunt piece charts thirteen roller coaster years of a guy, as self-inflicted loss and eventual forgiveness evolves him from an emotional f**ktard into a somewhat responsible man. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>My First Love</em> is part of the loosely linked <em>First Love</em> series, which includes the poems <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/beyond-fearful-door.html"><em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Beyond a fearful door</span></span></strong></em></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/the-long-ago-dreamt.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;"><strong><em>The long-ago dreamt</em></strong></span></a><strong><em> </em></strong>and <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/marker-asterisk-edit.html"><strong><span style="color: #5588aa;"><em>Marker (asterisk edit)</em></span></strong></a><em>, </em>published on the <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Leaves of Ink</span></a> site last month.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>My First Love</em> will appear on the ERWA site until the end of August 2015.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Big thanks to Daddy X (ERWA) and <a href="http://www.thunderune.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E.S. Wynn</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (Leaves) for publishing these works!</span></span></span> Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-26507409396478764772015-07-01T14:58:00.000-07:002015-07-01T14:58:35.353-07:00The Bottle & the Book by J.L. Martindale & Daniel McGinn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WmVfXZEiMFkgnIqOVw4wd0BXVOkii6AebNMZpMMNDpR68z4SxptxljUL1_soJkDS9V2cb1mXHd_ONYE0yHCkzfZAmmBi1tVYJWf2IwWAgn-2rf-fdnsJ-LvRg5IU4zDyiNovbxRk3sM/s1600/bottle+boot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WmVfXZEiMFkgnIqOVw4wd0BXVOkii6AebNMZpMMNDpR68z4SxptxljUL1_soJkDS9V2cb1mXHd_ONYE0yHCkzfZAmmBi1tVYJWf2IwWAgn-2rf-fdnsJ-LvRg5IU4zDyiNovbxRk3sM/s1600/bottle+boot.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(pb; 2015: limited-release poetry chapbook with CD)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><u>Overall review</u></strong>:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">All the works in this thirteen-poem chapbook are worth reading -- and publishing. All of them have at least one line that impressed or interested me, though a few stood out (see below). Its accompanying CD, with selective readings by the book authors, further bring these poems to aural, emotion-imbued life: worth purchasing, this. You can buy it <a href="http://sadiegirlpress.com/2015/04/02/the-bottle-the-boot/">here</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><u>Standout poems</u></strong>:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>1.</strong>) "<strong>Sometimes I breathe</strong>" (particularly the first/page two version of it) - <strong><a href="http://strangerupstairs.blogspot.com/?zx=7b488625f2a0cc35">Martindale</a> and McGinn</strong>: Intense, not-quite-a-call-and-response recurrent/evolving work whose stifling </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">desperation alternates with unhearing, different-trip realities and sensibilities. This poem is effective in its display of relational futility, deafness and blindness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>2.</strong>) "<strong>Let Us Rebel Against the Inevitable</strong>" - <strong>Martindale</strong>: Multi-sensory vivid, feel-like-you're-there work.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>3.</strong>) "<strong>Every Time It Rains</strong>" - <strong>McGinn</strong>: Soothing, interesting rebuttal to the image-intensive "<strong>Rewrite My Sorrow</strong>" (written by <strong>Martindale</strong>).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>4.</strong>) "<strong>I Pull You With the Weeds</strong>" - <strong>Martindale</strong>: Sharp, era-specific, sad and darkly funny versework. This, as of this writing, is my favorite poem in this chapbook.</span>Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-90454612518279236562015-06-13T17:18:00.002-07:002015-06-15T01:26:45.718-07:00**An overview of JL Martindale's published works, 2010 - 2015<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">JL Martindale, whose <em><a href="http://www.microstoryaweek.blogspot.com/2010/12/in-sepia.html"><strong>In Sepia</strong></a></em> graced this</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> site in December 2010, has been published numerous times since then. These works include:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Two poems in the verse collection <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Poet-Is-Matter-How-Tall/dp/0615881637/ref=redir_mobile_desktop/187-1217004-8686238?ie=UTF8&pi=AC_SX110_SY165&qid=1379130436&ref_=mp_s_a_1_1&sr=8-1">A Poet is a Poet No Matter How Tall: Poems by Poets of All Shapes and Sizes</a>.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2013/12/01/waiting-on-winter/"><strong>Waiting on Winter</strong></a></em>, an image-vivid, autumn-stark relationship poem, published on the <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets</a> site on December 1, 2013.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2014/01/05/simple-harmonic-motion/"><strong>Simple Harmonic Motion</strong></a></em>, a music-and-sensuality piece, published on the <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site on January 25, 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2014/02/24/spliced/"><strong>Spliced</strong></a>, </em>an emotionally-harsh versework highlighting booze and bitterness. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on February 24, 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2014/03/12/beautiful/"><em><strong>Beautiful</strong></em></a>, an aggressive-in-spirit take on notions of attractiveness, dark music and romance. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on March 12, 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2014/04/16/cons-in-prose-a-how-to-guide/"><em><strong>Cons in Prose: A How-to Guide</strong></em></a>, a clever, funny poem about reading at open mics. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on April 16, 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2014/05/23/last-line-epiphanies/"><em><strong>Last Line Epiphanies</strong></em></a>, about being an aging, socially "respectable" punk, and the doubts that entails. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on May 23, 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2014/06/18/i-lie-when-we-lay/"><em><strong>I Lie When We Lay</strong></em></a>, an emotionally-wracked piece about troubling, complicated bonds of intimacy. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on June 18, 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2015/01/28/no-afterlife-for-garbage/"><strong>No Afterlife for Garbage</strong></a></em>, with its straight take on our material objects. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on January 28, 2015.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://cadencecollective.net/2015/02/04/lovers-like-us-and-ghost-towns/"><em><strong>Lovers like us and ghost towns</strong></em></a>, about the past and symbolic archeology. The <a href="http://cadencecollective.net/">Cadence Collective</a> site published this on February 4, 2015.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Martindale co-authored a verseworks anthology (<em>The Bottle & the Boot</em>) with Daniel McGinn. This limited-release chapbook comes with a CD of selected readings from the book. You can purchase it <a href="http://sadiegirlpress.com/2015/04/02/the-bottle-the-boot/">here</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Three of her poems -- <em><strong>Afterbirth</strong></em>; <em><strong>Deliverance (Birth is a Violent Lover)</strong> </em>and <em><strong>I Pull You with the Weeds</strong></em> -- was included in the jazz-enhanced spoken-word reading CD/download <a href="https://mbtmusic.bandcamp.com/album/prose-rhythm-and-noise-muliebrity-vol-1"><em>Prose, Rhythm and Noise: Muliebrity, Vol. 1</em></a><em>, </em>released in May 2015. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">(One of Martindale's works, <em><strong>I Pull You with the Weeds</strong></em>, also appears in the aforementioned <em>The Bottle & the Boot</em>.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">One of her poems,<em> <strong>Like a Dog</strong></em>, was included in the jazz-enhanced spoken-word reading CD/download, <em><a href="https://mbtmusic.bandcamp.com/album/prose-rhythm-and-noise-muliebrity-vol-2">Prose, Rhythm and Noise: Muliebrity, Vol. 2</a></em>, also released in May 2015.</span><br />
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-66074120187370851642015-06-08T21:33:00.001-07:002015-06-09T23:27:35.473-07:00**One of my poems, Northward, (not so) thrilling, was published on the Leaves of Ink site<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my mainstream poems, <strong><em><span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/06/northward-not-so-thrilling.html">Northward, (not so) thrilling</a></span></em></strong>, was published on the </span><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Leaves of Ink</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This autobiographical versework sketches out a long, dead-of-night and creepily tactile walk down a long road.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Again, many thanks to editor </span><a href="http://www.thunderune.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E.S. Wynn</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> for publishing the poems, which are set to appear in my 2016 follow-up book to <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</span></a></em>.)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1yeTPwTUK6k4B4jpVo4UoWx1qzf6OTyOaHdict22VvYCcEpmZii5ei86aYblvpSTuskD5QlM0zQKjHJ01Zdc0jmXzakGURm0_5nkviWK0gFDz4yKoXv-edjy7kIKwBcUz4ptRPpgqoFo/s1600/mondo+feb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1yeTPwTUK6k4B4jpVo4UoWx1qzf6OTyOaHdict22VvYCcEpmZii5ei86aYblvpSTuskD5QlM0zQKjHJ01Zdc0jmXzakGURm0_5nkviWK0gFDz4yKoXv-edjy7kIKwBcUz4ptRPpgqoFo/s1600/mondo+feb.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-85238020056663436002015-05-31T20:48:00.003-07:002015-05-31T20:48:53.641-07:00**One of my poems, Marker (asterisk edit), was published on the Leaves of Ink site<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my verseworks, <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/marker-asterisk-edit.html"><strong><em>Marker (asterisk edit)</em></strong></a>, was published on the </span><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leaves of Ink</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This mainstream poem lists the lingering after-effects of a too-brief love affair. It is the third piece in the loosely linked <em>First Love</em> series, following </span><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/beyond-fearful-door.html"><em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Beyond a fearful door</span></strong></em></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and <em><strong><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/the-long-ago-dreamt.html">The long-ago dreamt</a>.</strong></em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Again, many thanks to editor </span><a href="http://www.thunderune.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E.S. Wynn</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> for publishing the poems, which are set to appear in my 2016 follow-up book to <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</span></a></em>.)</span><br />
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-15849621304750145982015-05-23T20:26:00.004-07:002015-05-23T20:27:32.924-07:00**One of my poems, The long-ago dreamt, was published on the Leaves of Ink site<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my verseworks, </span><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/the-long-ago-dreamt.html"><em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">The long-ago dreamt</span></span></strong></em></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, was published on the </span><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Leaves of Ink</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This mainstream poem details a half-remembered, half-dreamt afternoon in a not-quite-a-lover's embrace. It i</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">s the second piece in the loosely linked <em>First Love</em> series, following </span><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/beyond-fearful-door.html"><em><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Beyond a fearful door</span></span></strong></em></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em> </em>and preceding <em><strong>Marker (asterisk edit)</strong></em>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">(Again, many thanks to editor <a href="http://www.thunderune.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">E.S. Wynn</span></a> for publishing the poems, which are set to appear in my 2016 follow-up book to <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</span></a></em>.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-12129625719645383982015-05-21T21:12:00.000-07:002015-05-21T21:12:22.352-07:00**One of my erotic poems, The newest -- workweek blue, was published in the Pink Litter e-zine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">One of my erotic poems, <em><strong>The newest -- workweek blue</strong></em>, was published in the </span><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://pinklitter.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/pink-litter-8b1.pdf"><span style="color: #5588aa;">eighth issue</span></a></span><span style="color: black;"> of</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <a href="https://pinklitter.wordpress.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Pink Litter</span></a> e-zine</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. It appears on page 35 (scroll down to read it). </span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This rock-sex-and-onanism versework sketches out the cop-a-hot-feel memories and solo desires of a young male wage slave who has little else going on his life. <strong>It is, as you probably guessed, a “for mature readers only” read</strong>.</span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;"></span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">(Again, big thanks to editor Misty Rampart for publishing the poem, which is set to appear in my 2016 follow-up book to <a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html"><em><span style="color: #5588aa;">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</span></em></a><em>.</em>)</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span>Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-74226828063909190462015-05-15T21:11:00.000-07:002015-05-16T23:51:27.593-07:00**One of my mainstream poems, Beyond a fearful door, was published on the Leaves of Ink site<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/beyond-fearful-door.html">Beyond a fearful door</a></em>, one of my newer poems, was published on </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/">Leaves of Ink</a> site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">This verseworks charts the devastation -- and the beginnings of maturation -- that result from a California-themed romantic break-up. It is also a free-form piece that is loosely connected to two reworked (and soon to be published) poems <em>The long-ago dreamt</em> and <em>Marker (asterisk edit)</em>, as well as the soon-to-be published story <em>My First Love, in three confessional seasons</em>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">(Again, many thanks to editor <a href="http://www.thunderune.com/">E.S. Wynn</a> for publishing the poems, which are set to appear in my 2016 follow-up book to <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</a></em>.)</span><br />
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-626717343263841962015-05-07T21:53:00.002-07:002015-05-08T22:52:23.994-07:00**One of my mainstream poems, Disparate voices, was republished on the Leaves of Ink site<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2015/05/disparate-voices.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Disparate voices</span></a></em>, one of my older and thematically cobbled-together poems, was republished on the <a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Leaves of Ink</span></a> site yesterday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The poem, which shows four different viewpoints and time periods, centers around a mentally ill woman and how her erratic behavior affects those around her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">(Many thanks to editor <a href="http://www.thunderune.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">E.S. Wynn</span></a> for republishing the poem, which also appeared in my 2014 single-author poetry anthology <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</span></a></em>.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-15538167015433687832015-03-16T18:06:00.001-07:002015-03-16T19:26:40.948-07:00**Peter Baltensperger's microstory Or Then the Thunder was published in Pink Litter ezine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Peter Baltensperger, whose <em><a href="http://microstoryaweek.blogspot.com/2012/10/nocturnal-tableaux.html"><span style="color: #1c84f3;"><strong>Nocturnal Tableaux</strong></span></a></em>* graced this </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">site in October 2012, has had another microstory published: </span></span><strong><em><a href="http://pinklitter.blogspot.com/2015/02/or-then-thunder-story-by-peter.html?view=magazine" target="_blank">Or Then the Thunder</a></em></strong>, on the recently relocated <a href="http://pinklitter.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Pink Litter</a> site.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>Thunder</em> is a romantic, sexually explicit and mood-effective piece about a woman whose storm-born desires** electrify and heighten her memories and hopes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you are a legal adult and are so inclined, <a href="http://pinklitter.blogspot.com/2015/02/or-then-thunder-story-by-peter.html" target="_blank">check this story out</a>!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>*Nocturnal Tableaux</em> also appears in Baltensperger's story/vignette anthology <em><a href="http://bookstore.iuniverse.com/Products/SKU-000595497/Inside-from-the-Outside.aspx"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Inside from the Outside</span></a>.</em></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**a.k.a. <em>brontophiliacs</em>: People who "get off" when storms are raging.</span><br />
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-80249939260369735982015-03-14T20:29:00.000-07:002015-03-16T17:14:55.874-07:00**Three of my poems were republished in the anthology Poems To F*ck To<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgzcVzrACajQxzbpmdXuRz7X2Gsz0mvnsjJxw52ko-O3U7Ij4tNWDWfvR3PgUhSqmt0rVBOQbb_Ai7JlEgwlDEw3NxL1IXymlPHF0V7s8BwmpnE7fVEqGIyYouk5_oQ46r5rzvBFweXI/s1600/Poems.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvgzcVzrACajQxzbpmdXuRz7X2Gsz0mvnsjJxw52ko-O3U7Ij4tNWDWfvR3PgUhSqmt0rVBOQbb_Ai7JlEgwlDEw3NxL1IXymlPHF0V7s8BwmpnE7fVEqGIyYouk5_oQ46r5rzvBFweXI/s1600/Poems.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Three of my older romantic poems -- <em><strong>Invited; action</strong></em>, as well as <em><strong>It comes down to this, every time</strong></em> and <em><strong>Salvation</strong> </em>(previously published as <em><strong>Oh, Emma</strong></em>) -- were republished in the anthology <em><strong>Poems To F*ck To</strong> </em>(editors: <strong>Jason Brain</strong> and <strong>Chelsea Cohen</strong>).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><strong>Poems</strong></em> also contains <strong>Rick Lupert</strong>'s travel- and verseworks-clever piece <em><strong>England</strong></em>, one of my favorite poems in this anthology.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This sexy, playful and loving collection, put out by <a href="http://www.pimpublishing.com/">Poetry In Motion Publishing House</a>, can be purchased at </span><a href="https://www.createspace.com/5250452" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Createspace</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Poems-F-ck-Jason-Brain/dp/0991605322/ref=sr_1_sc_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1425499389&sr=8-2-spell&keywords=poems+to+fck+to"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazon</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span>Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-39534120709092609192014-12-17T14:47:00.001-08:002014-12-17T14:54:56.957-08:00**My latest poetry anthology, Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems, was published yesterday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiChecKv2l19ngkIrfI35CQXjzSjbprkqaKEk_4HEsvmnJAiTliN3D8Mp9bpRnnRjvYVLFegPgML9sjb4AAgBZjb2tXW6HbVHAxkwNaN_q6CEWDvIhomKluxlbNBFx5btlU_BTlop9xwM/s1600/mondo+feb.+f.cover+(final%2Bversion%2B1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiChecKv2l19ngkIrfI35CQXjzSjbprkqaKEk_4HEsvmnJAiTliN3D8Mp9bpRnnRjvYVLFegPgML9sjb4AAgBZjb2tXW6HbVHAxkwNaN_q6CEWDvIhomKluxlbNBFx5btlU_BTlop9xwM/s1600/mondo+feb.+f.cover+(final%2Bversion%2B1).jpg" height="320" width="247" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just published my second of two books this year - <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</span></a></em>, which mixes older previous published (and reworked) mainstream verses with quite a few newer works penned within the past two years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The poems are, per my usual style, rough and tumble free verse works that detail a tumultuous youth dealing with my own fictionalized dumbassery and growing up, a journey infused with the loving, often raw elements of familial discontent, religion, sex, horror films, heavy metal, nature (read: animals) and living in northern California and eastern Washington state. While these poems are mainstream, many of them would sport hard R-ratings if they were films subjected to the MPAA film board.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/welcome-to-horrorsex-county-microstories/paperback/product-21826987.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Welcome to Horrorsex County: microstories</span></a></em>, published earlier this autumn, it's a personal milestone book - a way for me to officially bid farewell to one phase of my writing and move onto the next, whatever its final form takes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Feel free to click on the above links if you (or anyone you know) would be interested in picking up the aforementioned books. They cost $9 or less (+s/h) apiece, and thanks for the support!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXB_Ya6OjKwNNoSOfjN1sHux0DIga3sXWB9fUFiM9LInTWW3abM_3vaDk63liAvmnX3kAafBfUrd9MspI6t0ECY9r5NsoF8fyJu9Ukt09MeevUHlZ6kcQPffBw4UBJbr1-enoC-E7Wec/s1600/Mondo+febrifuge+-+back+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkXB_Ya6OjKwNNoSOfjN1sHux0DIga3sXWB9fUFiM9LInTWW3abM_3vaDk63liAvmnX3kAafBfUrd9MspI6t0ECY9r5NsoF8fyJu9Ukt09MeevUHlZ6kcQPffBw4UBJbr1-enoC-E7Wec/s1600/Mondo+febrifuge+-+back+cover.jpg" height="320" width="229" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(back of <em>Mondo febrifuge</em>)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTWnWihWFM18uD_capE6fYzq-2npUk7CuMRfVderoFbCqymAMuN9JY0Juuh41fVcmQeXgwhxH9ayc49Rc1j0xkLFwGUKK61Oj-AowKcrgONLL-iTjmSzX39m8wvF5OY2_p0Zr3Cm0BWA/s1600/Horrorsex+County+cover+(v1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTWnWihWFM18uD_capE6fYzq-2npUk7CuMRfVderoFbCqymAMuN9JY0Juuh41fVcmQeXgwhxH9ayc49Rc1j0xkLFwGUKK61Oj-AowKcrgONLL-iTjmSzX39m8wvF5OY2_p0Zr3Cm0BWA/s1600/Horrorsex+County+cover+(v1).jpg" height="134" width="320" /></a></div>
Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-32139907079591933322014-11-27T11:24:00.001-08:002015-03-16T19:27:45.169-07:00**Peter Baltensperger's microstory All For The Pain was published in Black Heart Magazine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Peter Baltensperger, whose <em><a href="http://microstoryaweek.blogspot.com/2012/10/nocturnal-tableaux.html"><span style="color: #1c84f3;"><strong>Nocturnal Tableaux</strong></span></a></em>* graced this </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">site in October 2012, has had another microstory published: <em><span style="color: #1c84f3;"><a href="http://blackheartmagazine.com/2014/11/25/all-for-the-pain-by-peter-baltensperger/" target="_blank"><strong>All For The Pain</strong></a></span></em>, on the <a href="http://blackheartmagazine.com/" target="_blank">Black Heart Magazine</a> site</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span></em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><em>Pain</em></strong> details the emotions and sensations of a writer (Silas Connor) in the future and his struggles to deal with the burdens technological improvement has wrought upon him and those around him. Fans of Baltensperger's past works and speculative fiction should <a href="http://blackheartmagazine.com/2014/11/25/all-for-the-pain-by-peter-baltensperger/" target="_blank">check out</a> this gem of a microstory.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>*Nocturnal Tableaux</em> also appears in Baltensperger's story/vignette anthology <em><a href="http://bookstore.iuniverse.com/Products/SKU-000595497/Inside-from-the-Outside.aspx"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Inside from the Outside</span></a>.</em></span> </span><br />
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-47235243421192236532014-08-23T15:11:00.001-07:002016-11-13T21:37:58.261-08:00**Six of my mainstream poems were published in the second issue of Stormcloud Poets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRndJMB6mNQx9LPPg7fdsWjV0Yns4aP1G8dMT4VQJP8dZpvOVX19Q80pDPxfucngvqFBI_UwNZbxpS5vQ8kdxBckU4wd2iLdsuoSu8H5pB2nlDis_6GEVPlnAbKBYAAK8Pre56at6KLXY/s1600/storm+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRndJMB6mNQx9LPPg7fdsWjV0Yns4aP1G8dMT4VQJP8dZpvOVX19Q80pDPxfucngvqFBI_UwNZbxpS5vQ8kdxBckU4wd2iLdsuoSu8H5pB2nlDis_6GEVPlnAbKBYAAK8Pre56at6KLXY/s1600/storm+2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Six of my poems, a mix of old and new works, were published in the <a href="http://www.thunderune.com/2014/03/stormcloud-poets-2.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">second issue of <em>Storm Cloud Poets</em></span></a> magazine. These poems are:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-<em><strong>Appetite for construction</strong></em>, a versework about a poet writing his way toward his best self;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-<em><strong>Loneliness (suburban 03 mix)</strong></em>, about a restless, couch-surfing young man seeking some sense of "home" in a Pacific Northwest city;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-<em><strong>Orphan Andy's</strong></em>, a heartfelt and briefly flirty piece about two exes - now time-tested friends - hanging out in the poem-titular San Francisco diner;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-<em><strong>Pens, I - III</strong>*</em>, a poem that brings together three writing-impetus microverses, penned in successive decades, 1990s - present;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-<em><strong>Products</strong>*,</em> in which an adolescent combusts at the thought of submitting to his parents' ways (as well as corporatized adulthood);</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">-<em><strong>Shaking the northern spheres</strong>*</em>, a work that recalls a Gothic-themed road trip with a restless friend in the early 1990s.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Not only that, this issue features superb verses by <a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/rcodywrites"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Richard Cody</span></a> ("<strong>Sprite</strong>," <strong>The Job of the Poet</strong>").</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thanks, once again, to editor/author </span></span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/earlwynn"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">E.S. Wynn</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> (a.k.a. Earl S. Wynn) for including my work in this poetry collection - it's an honor to work with such an accomplished and inspiring word-conjurer. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you have the time and are so inclined, <a href="http://www.thunderune.com/2014/03/stormcloud-poets-2.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">pick up a copy of <em>Stormcloud Poets #2</em></span></a> now!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">#</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">*<em><strong>Pens, I - III </strong></em>and <em><strong>Shaking the northern spheres</strong></em><em> </em>were also published in the 2014 single-author anthology <em><span style="color: #5588aa;"><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/steve-isaak/mondo-febrifuge-omnibus-poems/paperback/product-21957465.html" target="_blank">Mondo febrifuge: omnibus poems</a></span></em>.</span> <br />
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Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-76127481261755513602014-07-28T12:40:00.000-07:002014-07-28T12:40:39.274-07:00**One of my poems, Eleanor Goolsbie: Domme & sculptress, was published in Pink Litter e-zine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my darkly playful and (briefly) sexually explicit poems, <em><span style="color: #1c84f3;"><span style="color: black;"><strong>Eleanor Goolsbie: Domme & sculptress</strong></span></span></em>, was published in </span><a href="http://pinklitter.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1c84f3;">Pink Litter</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> e-zine. (Big thanks to Misty Rampart, who published it!)</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />Please note that Pink Litter is a for-mature-readers site, so if you're under the age of eighteen you may want to skip this one.<br /><br />However, if you are a legal adult who appreciates <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0057729/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Addams Family</span></a> </em>-esque humor</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, sensuality and poetry, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1c84f3;"><a href="http://pinklitter.wordpress.com/2014/07/27/pink-litter-7/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">check this out</span></a> <span style="color: black;">(it's on page 13)</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">!</span> Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-32312685632311610292014-07-28T11:55:00.003-07:002015-03-16T15:23:22.489-07:00**One of my stories, A feast of fiends, was republished in the Sweet Dreams & Night Terrors anthology<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDyKzveI98PPsa2ffKfZX35Abcj02wy-TLgJnFpyFnUPlQLDh_3uSmog22YsG1_EhDK2PIqJBzMYdh0jxGzzPMtGKzhTqX4kuBtHxamxd6h7GpOkcoeCFrNug0fum8fdxuKub7zaTrlg/s1600/Sweet+Dreams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDyKzveI98PPsa2ffKfZX35Abcj02wy-TLgJnFpyFnUPlQLDh_3uSmog22YsG1_EhDK2PIqJBzMYdh0jxGzzPMtGKzhTqX4kuBtHxamxd6h7GpOkcoeCFrNug0fum8fdxuKub7zaTrlg/s1600/Sweet+Dreams.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my mainstream stories, <em><strong>A feast of fiends</strong></em>, was republished in the anthology </span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/silent-fray/sweet-dreams-night-terrors/paperback/product-21709824.html"><em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Sweet Dreams & Night Terrors: An Anthology of Dark Dreamscapes and Seductive Terrors</span></span></em></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>, </em>edited by Ron Koppelberger. (Many thanks to Ron and </span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?contributorId=1284082"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Silent Fray</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, an imprint of Horrified Press, publisher of this collection.)</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not only that, <em>Sweet Dreams </em>also includes eight works from </span><a href="http://www.eswynn.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Earl S. Wynn</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (a.k.a. E.S. Wynn): <em><strong>Within, Beyond</strong>;</em> <em><strong>Just a House</strong>; <strong>Taste of Serenity</strong>; <strong>Sky Diamond</strong>; <strong>Only For Her</strong>; <strong>Mirror-Glass Dreams</strong>; <strong>At the Boundary Between Darkness and Light</strong></em> and <em><strong>Dark Reflections</strong></em>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the <a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/silent-fray/sweet-dreams-night-terrors/paperback/product-21709824.html" target="_blank">link</a> to purchase the book (if you're so inclined!).</span>Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-58012357263742959092014-05-27T01:32:00.001-07:002015-03-16T15:23:43.389-07:00**One of my mainstream poems Shred, gouge, fly was republished in Leaves of Ink ezine<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">One of my older mainstream poems, <em><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2014/05/shred-gouge-fly.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Shred, gouge, fly</span></a></span></em>, was republished in the </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Leaves of Ink</span></a> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">ezine on May 7th, 2014. (Many thanks to editor Earl S. Wynn, a.k.a. </span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/earlwynn"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: blue;">E.S. Wynn</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">, for this.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This celebratory poem is about a writer whose appreciation for his current life and lover is enhanced by his acceptance and understanding about his past. (<em>Shred, gouge, fly</em> </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">was originally published in my 2011 single-author anthology <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/arterialgush"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Behind the wheel: selected poems</span></a></em>.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2014/05/shred-gouge-fly.html">Check this poem out</a>, if you're so inclined and have the time!</span> Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-57183755289970299712014-05-13T10:44:00.000-07:002015-03-16T15:24:03.769-07:00**One of my older poems, The return sidetrips, was published in Smashed Cat ezine<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my older mainstream poems, <em><a href="http://www.smashedcat.com/2014/05/51314.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">The return sidetrips</span></a></em>, was published in </span><a href="http://www.smashedcat.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Smashed Cat</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ezine today. (Again, gratitude goes to editor Earl S. Wynn, a.k.a. </span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/earlwynn"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #5588aa;">E.S. Wynn</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, for this.)</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This poem, which details the lysergic William S. Burroughs-esque (and hopefully brief) madness of an apartment-bound writer, has not been published anywhere else, so <a href="http://www.smashedcat.com/2014/05/51314.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">check it out</span></a> if you're so inclined!</span></span> Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4084503350931646769.post-23841154718441855152014-04-30T19:14:00.001-07:002015-03-16T15:24:21.935-07:00**One of my poems, Ephemeral, was republished in Leaves of Ink ezine<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">One of my older mainstream verseworks, <em><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2014/04/ephemeral.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Ephemeral</span></a></span></em>, was published in the </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Leaves of Ink</span></a> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">ezine today. (Many thanks to editor Earl S. Wynn, a.k.a. </span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/earlwynn"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><span style="color: blue;">E.S. Wynn</span></span></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">, for this.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This poem is about a man who misses hanging out with his ex-fiancée's imaginative son. (<em>Ephemeral</em> was originally published in my 2011 single-author anthology <em><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/arterialgush"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Behind the wheel: selected poems</span></a></em> under the title <em>Ephemeral stepfather</em>.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><a href="http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2014/04/ephemeral.html"><span style="color: #5588aa;">Check this poem out</span></a>!</span> Steve Isaakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07162341357622058518noreply@blogger.com0