Hysterical and Useless

My name is Maggie. I am a magpie.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS!

Online Literary Journal FIANT VERBAS is now accepting writing submissions for the month of June! We are an experimental journal, and only accept submissions from Chicago dwellers. The subject matter, however, need not concern Chicago. 

Every month, ten pieces will be selected to be put on our website. We are a small start-up with large ambition. The Editor is an MFA Student in Writing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Thus, the work will be seen heavily throughout the local arts community.

Submission Directions: Please submit your work (no longer than 20 pages unless absolutely necessary) in pdf or word doc form. No sharing Google Docs, please. If your work requires a different format for sound of video, please specify. Send all work to mhellw@saic.edu. The deadline is June 15th, 2014.

Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, Photography, Art, or a combination of any artistic inspiration are accepted. 

Currently, submission to this journal is free. 

Why Bukowski was an Idiot

"I want to go away
where no one can find me,
no one will know me.”

Say it like a pioneer,
a true rebel.

And tell me to 
“Shut up.”
Expand upon why I should
“Go to Hell.”

Your knives, you insist
are only metaphorical. 

Why, then, I might ask,
have I been bleeding 
since the day I met you?

Say it like a pioneer,
a true rebel.

And die just like another
bigot.
Rot just like another corpse.

The earth does not care
where you want to go.
It will find you,
and it will know you.

we

i grow exhausted

of we.

we are going here.”

we are doing this.”

we are married.”

person of interest:

the one you speak of—

     apparently your conjoined twin,

          or imaginary friend—

is not present.

perhaps you have developed

telepathy with your lover, but

you are not a we.

you are a you.

this is a very significant fact.

observe the elderly man:

how he clutches the urn of his recently

departed wife.

(as if he requires a

surgery

     to separate his torso from hers.)

it baffles me,

how do you not possess

this very mortal fear

and thus construct the armor

(with grammar, with visible separation, with logic)

to remain autonomous?