they celebrate
the Founder's birth
he brought the Word
that's him
mounted in the Square
Saturday, December 31, 2011
fiscally conservative politics
Really; not poetry
Here’s another great action suggested by Warren Buffet, one of the few noble rich billionaires in America willing speak up on behalf of the people of this country and the world.
Warren Buffet is asking each addressee to forward this email to a minimum of twenty people on their address list; in turn ask each of those to do likewise.
In three days, most people in The United States of America will have the message. This is one idea that really should be passed around.
_ *Congressional Reform Act of 2011*_
1. No Tenure / No Pension.
A Congressman/woman collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they're out of office.
2. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security.
All funds in the Congressional retirement fund move to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, and Congress participates with the American people. It may not be used for any other purpose.
3. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as all Americans do.
4. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.
5. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people.
6. Congress must equally abide by all laws they impose on the American people.
7. All contracts with past and present Congressmen/women are void effective 1/1/12. The American people did not make this contract with Congressmen/women.
Congressmen/women made all these contracts for themselves. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, so ours should serve their term(s), then go home and back to work.
If each person contacts a minimum of twenty people then it will only take three days for most people (in the U.S. ) to receive the message. Don't you think it's time?
THIS IS HOW YOU FIX CONGRESS!
Here’s another great action suggested by Warren Buffet, one of the few noble rich billionaires in America willing speak up on behalf of the people of this country and the world.
Warren Buffet is asking each addressee to forward this email to a minimum of twenty people on their address list; in turn ask each of those to do likewise.
In three days, most people in The United States of America will have the message. This is one idea that really should be passed around.
_ *Congressional Reform Act of 2011*_
1. No Tenure / No Pension.
A Congressman/woman collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they're out of office.
2. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security.
All funds in the Congressional retirement fund move to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, and Congress participates with the American people. It may not be used for any other purpose.
3. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as all Americans do.
4. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.
5. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people.
6. Congress must equally abide by all laws they impose on the American people.
7. All contracts with past and present Congressmen/women are void effective 1/1/12. The American people did not make this contract with Congressmen/women.
Congressmen/women made all these contracts for themselves. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, so ours should serve their term(s), then go home and back to work.
If each person contacts a minimum of twenty people then it will only take three days for most people (in the U.S. ) to receive the message. Don't you think it's time?
THIS IS HOW YOU FIX CONGRESS!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Holiday cash burning a hole in your pocket?
Try Nursery Rhyme Noir.
http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/2011/11/stumped-for-holiday-presents.html
Hasp Deadbolt hunts the killers of Pussy in the Well, Wee Willy Winkie, and Humpty Dumpty. Who burned Ms. Ladybug's home? Stole Bo Peep's sheep? Who you gonna call?
http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/2011/11/stumped-for-holiday-presents.html
Hasp Deadbolt hunts the killers of Pussy in the Well, Wee Willy Winkie, and Humpty Dumpty. Who burned Ms. Ladybug's home? Stole Bo Peep's sheep? Who you gonna call?
Mythos flash, in a way
In His House in Suburbia
That is not idle, which can eternal strive,
And in new seasons, strange broods may thrive.
--Jaaq al Coustou
One morning a Vespa was parked in the carport of the old Wilson place. I caught a glimpse of my new neighbor the next day. He was mowing and I was on my roof replacing some shingles. His face was a mass of tentacles, with a huge eye on each side. That seemed a little strange, even for SoCal.
I saw him again while raising money for the orphanage down the street. He had finally put his name on the mailbox. Instead of Wilson it now read "Phnglui." When I got to the door I thought I heard chanting inside, but it stopped as soon as I knocked. A few minutes later the door opened. Mr. P. stood there blinking. He was wearing a Miskatonic University T-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. I couldn't help noticing that his bare feet had webbing between the toes.
"Hey man," I said, "I'm selling raffle tickets for the orphanage. They're a dollar. You could win, like, a big screen TV, or dinner for two at Steamers." After I mentioned that one I wished I hadn't. He might be a little uncomfortable with the idea of seafood, being a sort of human calamari.
"Oh, uh, sure. Hold on." He went to a little table that was covered with papers held down by a green soapstone statuette. He picked up his wallet. "I'll take five."
"Thanks man. Say, could I borrow your mower? Mine quit working last time I used it and it's still in the shop. This time of year they're so busy it takes forever."
"No problem. I already mowed."
I saw Mr. P pretty regularly after that. I got the feeling he'd been keeping a low profile until he found out how the neighbors would react to his appearance. I even saw him jogging in the park, and ran into him at the grocery store. He was buying shrimp, so I guess my seafood restaurant gaffe hadn't been a problem. When it came time for the neighborhood's annual Fourth of July picnic, I made sure to invite him.
"You may not be American, but you're welcome to party with us. Plus, we're going to do the drawing. For the raffle." I couldn't place his accent.
"I'm from Massachusetts," he said. "A little town near Arkham. Innsmouth; you probably haven't heard of it. Got kin up that way. And I'll definitely see you Saturday. I'll bring some crabcakes."
*
Everyone agreed the crabcakes were awesome. A couple of people asked for the recipe, and he promised to e-mail them. I don't know why, but for some reason I hadn't expected him to use e-mail. He noticed my expression.
"I can't afford to call my relatives long distance; I use Skype. I have some cousins near Ponape. Aquaculturalists."
About then, Missy Langston sat down next to Mr. P. She was wearing a very brief bikini, and she draped her arm across his shoulders. This made him a little uncomfortable, if the frenetic writhing of his tentacles was anything to go by.
"Oh Mr. P," she said. "I hear you have all kinds antique statuary in your house. I would love to see it." She leaned over and whispered in his ear. He turned bright red. I got up to get another beer. It was a while later when I noticed the two of them had gone. I also didn't see Missy's sometime boyfriend Chuck. Seemed like Missy had been fighting with him a few hours earlier, before she started talking to Mr. P.
About then Missy came running out of the darkness, screaming that Chuck was killing Mr. P and we needed to make them stop. She had lost her bikini top. A couple of us ran back the way she had come, to find Mr. P on the ground. About a third of the tentacles were missing from around his mouth and he was bleeding from a cut above his eye. There was no sign of Chuck. We got Mr. P upright and half dragged him to his house. I asked if he wanted to go to the hospital, but he shook his head. At the front door he waved us away, and closed and locked it behind him.
The next morning I checked on him. He didn't answer until I shouted that I was going to call 911. I heard a faint whisper from just on the other side of the door.
"I'll regenerate. Just go away. Please."
That night I took him some chowder. He didn't answer the door, so I left it in a cooler. The next morning the cooler was empty. A week later he was out trimming his hedge, sporting a set of bright pink stubby tentacles that replaced the ones Chuck had torn out.
In the meantime, no one had seen Chuck at all. Missy tossed her head and said "I'm glad! All he ever gave me was a black eye."
A few days after that Chuck turned up... floating face down in a canal, partially eaten by fish and crabs. He had been in the water for days, and his face was completely gone.
I was one of the few who showed up at the funeral. Missy arrived right before he was lowered into the ground, riding behind Mr. P. on his bright yellow Vespa.
It was about a month later that Missy started to show. Mr. P bought a used Accord. Missy announced that she was carrying quadruplets, and I bought them one of those fancy four-seat strollers. A couple of humorists down the street chipped in and bought a 100 gallon fish tank. I didn't think it was funny.
The end
That is not idle, which can eternal strive,
And in new seasons, strange broods may thrive.
--Jaaq al Coustou
One morning a Vespa was parked in the carport of the old Wilson place. I caught a glimpse of my new neighbor the next day. He was mowing and I was on my roof replacing some shingles. His face was a mass of tentacles, with a huge eye on each side. That seemed a little strange, even for SoCal.
I saw him again while raising money for the orphanage down the street. He had finally put his name on the mailbox. Instead of Wilson it now read "Phnglui." When I got to the door I thought I heard chanting inside, but it stopped as soon as I knocked. A few minutes later the door opened. Mr. P. stood there blinking. He was wearing a Miskatonic University T-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. I couldn't help noticing that his bare feet had webbing between the toes.
"Hey man," I said, "I'm selling raffle tickets for the orphanage. They're a dollar. You could win, like, a big screen TV, or dinner for two at Steamers." After I mentioned that one I wished I hadn't. He might be a little uncomfortable with the idea of seafood, being a sort of human calamari.
"Oh, uh, sure. Hold on." He went to a little table that was covered with papers held down by a green soapstone statuette. He picked up his wallet. "I'll take five."
"Thanks man. Say, could I borrow your mower? Mine quit working last time I used it and it's still in the shop. This time of year they're so busy it takes forever."
"No problem. I already mowed."
I saw Mr. P pretty regularly after that. I got the feeling he'd been keeping a low profile until he found out how the neighbors would react to his appearance. I even saw him jogging in the park, and ran into him at the grocery store. He was buying shrimp, so I guess my seafood restaurant gaffe hadn't been a problem. When it came time for the neighborhood's annual Fourth of July picnic, I made sure to invite him.
"You may not be American, but you're welcome to party with us. Plus, we're going to do the drawing. For the raffle." I couldn't place his accent.
"I'm from Massachusetts," he said. "A little town near Arkham. Innsmouth; you probably haven't heard of it. Got kin up that way. And I'll definitely see you Saturday. I'll bring some crabcakes."
*
Everyone agreed the crabcakes were awesome. A couple of people asked for the recipe, and he promised to e-mail them. I don't know why, but for some reason I hadn't expected him to use e-mail. He noticed my expression.
"I can't afford to call my relatives long distance; I use Skype. I have some cousins near Ponape. Aquaculturalists."
About then, Missy Langston sat down next to Mr. P. She was wearing a very brief bikini, and she draped her arm across his shoulders. This made him a little uncomfortable, if the frenetic writhing of his tentacles was anything to go by.
"Oh Mr. P," she said. "I hear you have all kinds antique statuary in your house. I would love to see it." She leaned over and whispered in his ear. He turned bright red. I got up to get another beer. It was a while later when I noticed the two of them had gone. I also didn't see Missy's sometime boyfriend Chuck. Seemed like Missy had been fighting with him a few hours earlier, before she started talking to Mr. P.
About then Missy came running out of the darkness, screaming that Chuck was killing Mr. P and we needed to make them stop. She had lost her bikini top. A couple of us ran back the way she had come, to find Mr. P on the ground. About a third of the tentacles were missing from around his mouth and he was bleeding from a cut above his eye. There was no sign of Chuck. We got Mr. P upright and half dragged him to his house. I asked if he wanted to go to the hospital, but he shook his head. At the front door he waved us away, and closed and locked it behind him.
The next morning I checked on him. He didn't answer until I shouted that I was going to call 911. I heard a faint whisper from just on the other side of the door.
"I'll regenerate. Just go away. Please."
That night I took him some chowder. He didn't answer the door, so I left it in a cooler. The next morning the cooler was empty. A week later he was out trimming his hedge, sporting a set of bright pink stubby tentacles that replaced the ones Chuck had torn out.
In the meantime, no one had seen Chuck at all. Missy tossed her head and said "I'm glad! All he ever gave me was a black eye."
A few days after that Chuck turned up... floating face down in a canal, partially eaten by fish and crabs. He had been in the water for days, and his face was completely gone.
I was one of the few who showed up at the funeral. Missy arrived right before he was lowered into the ground, riding behind Mr. P. on his bright yellow Vespa.
It was about a month later that Missy started to show. Mr. P bought a used Accord. Missy announced that she was carrying quadruplets, and I bought them one of those fancy four-seat strollers. A couple of humorists down the street chipped in and bought a 100 gallon fish tank. I didn't think it was funny.
The end
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
second visit
They know us too well
The burrows were long abandoned. The natives must have gone soon after our first expedition returned to Earth.
The burrows were long abandoned. The natives must have gone soon after our first expedition returned to Earth.
122811
DN 91 to the printer today. Anybody want a pdf for review? And now, today's monostich
rolling into fog Schrodinger's light
rolling into fog Schrodinger's light
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
DN illustrations
I could use filler & cover illos for upcoming issues (beginning w #92, dated May 2012).
Monday, December 26, 2011
1 moar chance to finish holidy cards
Got _most_ of them done....
happy holidays
rings with cavernous joy
bee-tree day
happy holidays
rings with cavernous joy
bee-tree day
Sunday, December 25, 2011
122511
Beneath the Irrigation System of the Farm of the Planet of the Raised Bed of the Living Vegetarians
twas the night b4 brocfest
and all thru the beds
florets were atremblin'
fraid for their heads
twas the night b4 brocfest
and all thru the beds
florets were atremblin'
fraid for their heads
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
don't want to miss it
When is the day
we look around and say
this is where we want to be
we relax
and speak of
deep matters
while concentrating intensely
on everything important
we look around and say
this is where we want to be
we relax
and speak of
deep matters
while concentrating intensely
on everything important
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
solstice
cold
grows
but so
does sunlight
back to seasonal
roots and sacrifice an ice cube
to the primary, that fusion bomb of hope and love
grows
but so
does sunlight
back to seasonal
roots and sacrifice an ice cube
to the primary, that fusion bomb of hope and love
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
DN 91 contents
Dreams & Nightmares 91
January 2012
CONTENTS
Randy Moore ………………………..……............... cover
From the Brain Stem …………………………………… ..………... 3
assu, untitled ........................... 3
CEE, ...and all I got was this lousy cherub 4
Robert Borski, Humphrey …………….............. 5
Chris Friend, illo ....................... 6
Joshua Willey, Gone ....................... 7
Wade German, In the Hollow of Sleepy Legend 9
David Lee Summers & Kurt MacPhearson, Pulsar Prospectors . 10
Chris Friend, illo ...................... 11
Ruth Berman, The Vampire’s Wedding ....... 12
Neal Wilgus, Unkiltered ................. 13
Denny Marshall, illo .................... 14
FJ Bergmann, Derived Inference .......... 15
Alexandra Seidel, The Tally of Forgotten Dreams Kept by Morpheus 16
Marina Lee Sable, This Haunting ......... 17
Chris Friend, illo ...................... 18
Timons Esaias, Notable Deficiencies ..... 19
Steve Cooper, illo ...................... 19
CEE, You Know, With Songs by Survivor and Loverboy ... and Stuff... 20
January 2012
CONTENTS
Randy Moore ………………………..……............... cover
From the Brain Stem …………………………………… ..………... 3
assu, untitled ........................... 3
CEE, ...and all I got was this lousy cherub 4
Robert Borski, Humphrey …………….............. 5
Chris Friend, illo ....................... 6
Joshua Willey, Gone ....................... 7
Wade German, In the Hollow of Sleepy Legend 9
David Lee Summers & Kurt MacPhearson, Pulsar Prospectors . 10
Chris Friend, illo ...................... 11
Ruth Berman, The Vampire’s Wedding ....... 12
Neal Wilgus, Unkiltered ................. 13
Denny Marshall, illo .................... 14
FJ Bergmann, Derived Inference .......... 15
Alexandra Seidel, The Tally of Forgotten Dreams Kept by Morpheus 16
Marina Lee Sable, This Haunting ......... 17
Chris Friend, illo ...................... 18
Timons Esaias, Notable Deficiencies ..... 19
Steve Cooper, illo ...................... 19
CEE, You Know, With Songs by Survivor and Loverboy ... and Stuff... 20
DN 91
Contents, yeah. Haven't mailed holiday cards or presents either. But I'm working on it!
Hic tardium est.
Hic tardium est.
the birth of L
The desertification of the Midwest was a boon to the humble purveyors of paper homes.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Rhysling nomination time
These are poems, by me, eligible for the Rhysling award. You may nominate if you are a member of the Science Fiction Poetry Association. Poems published in Dreams & Nightmares 88, 89, & 90 also are eligible.
David C. Kopaska-Merkel
1300 Kicker
Tuscaloosa AL 35404
jopnquog@Gmail.com
23 poems eligible for Rhysling, first published in 2011
poems available on request; pdfs of The Tin Men chapbook on request; pdfs of Dreams & Nightmares magazine from 2011 on request.
poems from my blog (http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/) eligible, but not listed here
SHORT POEMS (20)
all folk have legends of her, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, May, print
At the Duck Convention, 19 lines
Strange Horizons, Feb. 21
bare feet, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Feb., online
captain stares, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Nov., print
continents raise fresh, 3 lines
7X20, Sept. 14
from the saucer, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Aug., print
holiday greetings, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, May, print
humans, 3 lines
Eye To The Telescope, May
iron wings melt, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Aug., online
Pumping Up the Local Economy, 19 lines
Star*line, July-Sept.
ran away, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Nov., online
sealed tomb, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, Feb., online
Strange Oblivion, 19 lines
Strange Horizons, Oct. 17
Taking it Slow, 36 lines
Ideomancer, December
The End of Captain Argoyle, 36 lines
The Tin Men chapbook
The Observatory Door Was Open, 27 lines
http://www.cosmopoetry.ro/expeditiontoelgrantelescopio/3therealmoftelescopes/
the time traveler, 3 lines
7X20, Dec. 2
they say it tastes like chicken, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, May, online
Umbral Valleys (with Kendall Evans), 30 lines
The Tin Men
worms of all kinds, 3 lines
7X20, Dec. 13
LONG POEMS (3)
Divergent Quanta (with Kendall Evans), 110 lines
The Tin Men
Dyson Spheres (with Kendall Evans), 54 lines
The Tin Men
El Dorado Asteroid (with Kendall Evans), 103 lines
The Tin Men
David C. Kopaska-Merkel
1300 Kicker
Tuscaloosa AL 35404
jopnquog@Gmail.com
23 poems eligible for Rhysling, first published in 2011
poems available on request; pdfs of The Tin Men chapbook on request; pdfs of Dreams & Nightmares magazine from 2011 on request.
poems from my blog (http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/) eligible, but not listed here
SHORT POEMS (20)
all folk have legends of her, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, May, print
At the Duck Convention, 19 lines
Strange Horizons, Feb. 21
bare feet, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Feb., online
captain stares, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Nov., print
continents raise fresh, 3 lines
7X20, Sept. 14
from the saucer, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Aug., print
holiday greetings, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, May, print
humans, 3 lines
Eye To The Telescope, May
iron wings melt, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Aug., online
Pumping Up the Local Economy, 19 lines
Star*line, July-Sept.
ran away, 3 lines
Scifaikuest, Nov., online
sealed tomb, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, Feb., online
Strange Oblivion, 19 lines
Strange Horizons, Oct. 17
Taking it Slow, 36 lines
Ideomancer, December
The End of Captain Argoyle, 36 lines
The Tin Men chapbook
The Observatory Door Was Open, 27 lines
http://www.cosmopoetry.ro/expeditiontoelgrantelescopio/3therealmoftelescopes/
the time traveler, 3 lines
7X20, Dec. 2
they say it tastes like chicken, 5 lines
Scifaikuest, May, online
Umbral Valleys (with Kendall Evans), 30 lines
The Tin Men
worms of all kinds, 3 lines
7X20, Dec. 13
LONG POEMS (3)
Divergent Quanta (with Kendall Evans), 110 lines
The Tin Men
Dyson Spheres (with Kendall Evans), 54 lines
The Tin Men
El Dorado Asteroid (with Kendall Evans), 103 lines
The Tin Men
Friday, December 16, 2011
DN 91
The issue is laid out and will go to the printer next week. I will be able to post the table of contents this weekend. I didn't have time last night. I can say this. DN 92 (May 2012) is full of poetry and I have a cover, but I need interior illustrations. And I have nothing for the September issue.
I realized belatedly that I published my 25th anniversary issue a year ago next month. So I guess I should do something special four years from now. Assuming the global economy hasn't collapsed by then.
I realized belatedly that I published my 25th anniversary issue a year ago next month. So I guess I should do something special four years from now. Assuming the global economy hasn't collapsed by then.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
"'Momma isn't stirring
Since my daddy's been in stir.'
"Natural, this was a wench I used to spoon with."
Conclusion of the ditty begun earlier this morning. (From memory; may be a bit off.) And Pogo is back in print!
http://www.fantagraphics.com/browse-shop/pogo-vol.-1-of-the-complete-syndicated-comic-strips-through-the-wild-blue-wonder-pre-order-10.html?vmcchk=1
Since my daddy's been in stir.'
"Natural, this was a wench I used to spoon with."
Conclusion of the ditty begun earlier this morning. (From memory; may be a bit off.) And Pogo is back in print!
http://www.fantagraphics.com/browse-shop/pogo-vol.-1-of-the-complete-syndicated-comic-strips-through-the-wild-blue-wonder-pre-order-10.html?vmcchk=1
121311
"Whence that wince, oh wench," quoth I,
She blushed and said "Oh sir,"
You know the rest, I hope. If not, read Pogo!
She blushed and said "Oh sir,"
You know the rest, I hope. If not, read Pogo!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Call for Rhysling nominations
http://sfpoetry.com/ra/rhysnom.html
Can't nominate till Jan. 1 & must be an SFPA member. Soon I'll post my list of eligible poems, but every poem published in Dreams & Nightmares 88, 89, & 90 is eligible. I've got pdfs of those issues if you want to peruse them with nominating in mind.
Can't nominate till Jan. 1 & must be an SFPA member. Soon I'll post my list of eligible poems, but every poem published in Dreams & Nightmares 88, 89, & 90 is eligible. I've got pdfs of those issues if you want to peruse them with nominating in mind.
ICFA 2012
Orlando, March 21-25. A reeeeeeeeeeeeeeel SF conference. I'll be doing a reading & hob-nobbing. Hope to c some of u there!
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
nano nano nano
Shouting it three times didn't help either, Losa realized, sinking ever more swiftly into the putrid pink muck. He took a deep breath and held it.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
it's beginning to sound a lot like spring
Spring 2012 evolution lectures in Tuscaloosa
http://as.ua.edu/evolution/schedule-of-talks/
http://as.ua.edu/evolution/schedule-of-talks/
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Warning: semi-explicit
The Girl with the Octopus
Leon's ardor cooled somewhat when he discovered that Harriet kept a squid in her basement. She was up against the wall beside the washing machine and he was all over her. It was a strange place to have sex on a first date, but Leon believed in letting the lady choose. He felt he got laid more often that way. He had just gotten her blouse off when he felt something cold and damp curl around his calf. It was long and rubbery, and it clung to his skin as tightly as if it were glued Then the intruding member, whatever it was, got considerably more intimate. He broke away to look down, screamed, and backed up against the wall next to Harriet. The concrete was cold and clammy, and he felt a flicker of remorse for pressing Harriet up against it. But the wall was no clammier than the muscular arm, mottled green with small red spots and bearing a double row of suckers, which had forced its way between the two of them. The arm thickened from a couple of inches at the tip to three or four times that where it vanished into the gloom beyond the reach of the single 40-watt bulb. The arm raised its distal portion, for all the world like a questing snake, and more of it slid into view, bunching up under the light and, incidentally, blocking them off from the stairs.
"That thing is at least 40 freaking feet long!" Leon screamed, pushing himself back against the wall, and it became very clear that fear had displaced lust in his physiology. He pulled Harriet to him and held on tightly, but she coolly pried his fingers loose and slipped out from under his arm.
"Oh, much longer than that," she said. "I was hoping it would wait until we were finished." She gave a "you can't have everything" shrug, and tugged on his hand. He followed her away from the wall, into the brighter area under the light. She let go of his hand. The light went out. He didn't hear anything, not anything at all, but a few seconds later the door at the top of the stairs opened, Harriet slipped through, and the door closed again. The darkness was absolute. He trembled violently, but only whimpered when the arm, or another just like it, curved around his waist and begin to squeeze. He did scream, finally, when the mouths inside the suckers opened and began to feed.
End
Leon's ardor cooled somewhat when he discovered that Harriet kept a squid in her basement. She was up against the wall beside the washing machine and he was all over her. It was a strange place to have sex on a first date, but Leon believed in letting the lady choose. He felt he got laid more often that way. He had just gotten her blouse off when he felt something cold and damp curl around his calf. It was long and rubbery, and it clung to his skin as tightly as if it were glued Then the intruding member, whatever it was, got considerably more intimate. He broke away to look down, screamed, and backed up against the wall next to Harriet. The concrete was cold and clammy, and he felt a flicker of remorse for pressing Harriet up against it. But the wall was no clammier than the muscular arm, mottled green with small red spots and bearing a double row of suckers, which had forced its way between the two of them. The arm thickened from a couple of inches at the tip to three or four times that where it vanished into the gloom beyond the reach of the single 40-watt bulb. The arm raised its distal portion, for all the world like a questing snake, and more of it slid into view, bunching up under the light and, incidentally, blocking them off from the stairs.
"That thing is at least 40 freaking feet long!" Leon screamed, pushing himself back against the wall, and it became very clear that fear had displaced lust in his physiology. He pulled Harriet to him and held on tightly, but she coolly pried his fingers loose and slipped out from under his arm.
"Oh, much longer than that," she said. "I was hoping it would wait until we were finished." She gave a "you can't have everything" shrug, and tugged on his hand. He followed her away from the wall, into the brighter area under the light. She let go of his hand. The light went out. He didn't hear anything, not anything at all, but a few seconds later the door at the top of the stairs opened, Harriet slipped through, and the door closed again. The darkness was absolute. He trembled violently, but only whimpered when the arm, or another just like it, curved around his waist and begin to squeeze. He did scream, finally, when the mouths inside the suckers opened and began to feed.
End
He was a good cat
Orpheus in Ulthar, in Nehwon
Some say
cats rule in Ulthar,
that their strong-paw tactics keep the streets
clear of zoogs & other riff raff.
Maybe so, and perhaps, with sinuous leaps
they can clear the gulfs
between universe bubbles
in vengeful hordes.
But I can't see it.
My cat doesn't come
when I call, and no special whistle
is going to change his mind.
No purr pressure would make him
join any Ultharian gang;
he is a solitary fellow,
if always ready for a scratch.
I do wonder, though,
where he goes for a day or more
Now and then.
I swear he never leaves the house.
But those curious bones
he was playing with
after a long absence, they
fit together for me only one way.
When I remember
I'll show them to my anatomist friend.
I'm sure he won't end up joining
two pelvises, one set of shoulder blades, six limbs,
and an impossible number of vertebrae
to a single oddly holey skull.
The end
Some say
cats rule in Ulthar,
that their strong-paw tactics keep the streets
clear of zoogs & other riff raff.
Maybe so, and perhaps, with sinuous leaps
they can clear the gulfs
between universe bubbles
in vengeful hordes.
But I can't see it.
My cat doesn't come
when I call, and no special whistle
is going to change his mind.
No purr pressure would make him
join any Ultharian gang;
he is a solitary fellow,
if always ready for a scratch.
I do wonder, though,
where he goes for a day or more
Now and then.
I swear he never leaves the house.
But those curious bones
he was playing with
after a long absence, they
fit together for me only one way.
When I remember
I'll show them to my anatomist friend.
I'm sure he won't end up joining
two pelvises, one set of shoulder blades, six limbs,
and an impossible number of vertebrae
to a single oddly holey skull.
The end
Wednesday charity fundraiser deadline
Last day of fundraiser for East Tuscaloosa Community Soup Bowl. Check back a few days in this blog for details. The ETCSB serves a part of Tuscaloosa devastated by the April 27 tornado.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
fundraiser update
$140 raised so far. Items remaining are four lifetime subscriptions to Dreams and Nightmares for $90 each. Each includes all available back issues (about half a dozen). All proceeds donated to the East Tuscaloosa Community Soup Bowl.
120611
Kelly and Chuck Jones
made a bad Pogo video
good tho
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyutnmdDwsg
made a bad Pogo video
good tho
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyutnmdDwsg
Monday, December 5, 2011
sf nanofic
Between each pair of fresh flour tortillas, Xafroth inserted a crisp new marble. The children of Earth would be so pleased!
charity fundraiser reminder
Wednesday the 7th, 2 days from now, is the end of my annual fundraiser to support my local soup kitchen: East Tuscaloosa Community Soup Bowl. See the link below for books & Dreams & Nightmares subscriptions that qualify. I will donate 100% of the revenue from these purchases to feed the hungry in my city.
http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-annual-fundraiser.html
http://dreamsandnightmaresmagazine.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-annual-fundraiser.html
Sunday, December 4, 2011
120411
Trying to pull together a poetry book ms excluding everything that's in "brushfires". I only have a couple of weeks & must write some new stuff. I'm calling it "You Have My Attention."
gloves found
but illustrations still lost
unopened boxes
gloves found
but illustrations still lost
unopened boxes
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
120111
hard frost
passes for snow
I know the diff
white mantle marked by clawed feet
and the dot dash of hares
passes for snow
I know the diff
white mantle marked by clawed feet
and the dot dash of hares
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