Tag Archives: Summer 2015 (#6)

“Placenta” – Fiction by Ned Thimmayya

Newborn Baby on Hands - Otto Dix, 1927
Newborn Baby on Hands – Otto Dix, 1927

“Placenta” by Ned Thimmayya is a magnificently grisly story from our very bloody Summer 2015 issue, which is available here, here, here, or here.

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HANNAH SAT IN THE WAITING ROOM, spring green walls and stacks of magazines her only– very cold–company.

In her mind, she carried her stillborn nephew, eyes squeezed to cracks, hands tiny and untried, the umbilical cord vascular blue and looped three times around the child’s neck, tight as spool and thread.  They surgically removed the placenta minutes after they extracted the lifeless blunder-of-joy.

The procedure to remove the placenta was necessitated by a placenta percreta.  The placenta had embedded itself in the uterine wall and–by virtue of its dazzling, opportunistic veins–had penetrated to the bladder.  There the placenta’s long fingers threatened to violate the mother’s internal organs.  The doctor said he’d never seen such an invasive case.

{ X }

“Who didn’t cut the umbilical?” he yelled, arriving at the scene of the stillbirth and snapping everyone’s own private colloquy with the situation.  His words were a show; the child had died in the early stages of labor.

According to him, one such accident constituted heartache for all involved.  A series of stillbirths in his ward translated to lifelong professional consequences and personal guilt.  An entire year of frequent stillbirths, occurring beyond the hospital and even across international boundaries, formed the salient health question of his time.  Since it was this last and most prominent challenge that he faced, there was no shame in his individual ignorance.  His sense of helplessness in the path of death, however, could not be softened by the unanswered questions posed in peer-reviewed journals and obstetricians’ conferences.  Fatal compressions of the nuchal cord–an umbilical cord characterized by at least one full loop around the baby’s neck–had once been so rare.  Which drugs had come into fashion since the trend?  Were there alterations in birth practices that coincided with the upsurge of fatalities? Continue reading “Placenta” – Fiction by Ned Thimmayya

“My Body, So I Know It” – Poetry by E.H. Brogan

Cain - Lovis Corinth, 1917
Cain – Lovis Corinth, 1917

Body art gets Biblical in “My Body, So I Know It,” one of two very flappy poems by E.H. Brogan featured in our Summer 2015 issue available here, here, here, or here. And if you’d like to hear a recording of E.H. reading this poem, click the Soundcloud player below the text!

{ X }

I MARK MY BODY SO I MAY KNOW IT.
God marked Cain from Abel to tell
the difference, and he made us, so this
seems not insane. You may even know
how similar we all look, of one image,
god-damned & god-shaped. Who can blame
His confusion? Our world is His warped mirror.

I chose my tools: bars and ink.
God is Light and I used the first
to create holes all over and let
Him in – as He would say, illuminate me.
I used the ink more topically, to color
up what parts of me called for
more decoration, facts of His design:
swirls of fractal math change from lilac
through to teal in patterns, while creatures
He designed march on me like the Ark
in dual tone, black and white: giraffe,
and fish, lizard and lion.

But His best invention is the Word.
I make my skin the page.
I am always writing.

I mark my body so I know it,
can find it easy, in a glance.
No other vessel has marks like
I’ve laid on mine. A thousand cuts
in all directions and each one lets in
another crown of blessed Light.

{ X }

image1E.H. BROGAN is a graduate of the University of Delaware with a B.A. in English. She has poetry in or forthcoming from Star*Line, Cider Press ReviewBop Dead City, and others. She blog-runs and co-curates for Kenning Journal. Her house is built of books. Tweet @wheresmsbrogan for more.

“Leaving Wisconsin” – Poetry by CL Bledsoe

Is Your Life Sweet? - Lygia Pape, 1996
Is Your Life Sweet? – Lygia Pape, 1996

“Leaving Wisconsin” is one of five wry yet poignant  poems by CL Bledsoe in our Summer 2015 issue, which you can order online via Amazon and Createspace. Copies are also available at fine independent brick-and-mortar stores like Bluestockings and St. Mark’s Bookshop.

{ X }

THERE’S A HOLE IN MY SOUL THAT
can only be filled by corn
syrup and processed sugars;

the sticky things comfort me.
Preservatives keep feelings
from festering while sitting

on some cobwebbed shelf. I don’t
know when the hotpockets will
reach bottom but I’ve got to

keep pouring them down until
they do. Otherwise, how will
I ever climb out? You don’t

understand; if I lost weight,
people would just want to screw
me. And then, where would I be?

{ X }

HeadshotCL BLEDSOE is the author of a dozen books, most recently the poetry collection Riceland and the novel Man of Clay. He lives in northern Virginia with his daughter.

“Difficult Questions” – Fiction by Zain Saeed

Wounded Man - Ilya Repin, 1913
Wounded Man – Ilya Repin, 1913

When a man jumps into your car pointing a gun at your head and asks how much your life is worth, what’s the correct answer? Find out by reading “Difficult Questions,” Zain Saeed‘s short story from our Summer 2015 issue.

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WHEN HE SAID HE DIDN’T WANT MY PHONE I WAS DISAPPOINTED, not because I’d kept an extra phone in the car just for days like this and men like him, but because I realized this was going to be one of those days. I was going to remain stuck here on this little street with a gun pointed at me while I pled theatrically for my life and probably be about two or maybe three hours late in getting to the stock exchange depending on this man’s experience and current life situation. I was especially annoyed because I’d already used two out of my three monthly “I got mugged by a man on Tariq Road” excuses and was saving one for the day after Ahmed’s birthday. And now this stupid man had gone and ruined everything.

“Please don’t kill me, please don’t! I’ll do anything,” I said through the still rolled-up window.

“Unlock the doors gaandu.

Fuck me. He was a Clinger and a Swearer. Three hours easy. I made a mental note to apologize to Ahmed. I then unlocked the door and he came and sat in the back, gun pointing at my head.

“Now drive!”

“Of course of course, sir. Where to?”

“Just drive.”

Fucking aimless person.

I began to drive. He took his mask off and lowered the gun, pointing it at my butt so as not to be visible to the people that would get to work on time, lucky bastards. He looked about 19. Clean-shaven, puffy eyes, probably six feet tall, wore camouflage trousers. I wanted to ask him what war was on, but I felt he wouldn’t get the joke. Or maybe he was caught up in too many to tell me which.

Continue reading “Difficult Questions” – Fiction by Zain Saeed

“Her Goodies Are Her Own” – Poetry by Kailey Tedesco

Little Red Riding Hood - Gustave Doré, circa 1867
Little Red Riding Hood – Gustave Doré, circa 1867

Our Summer 2015 issue features a few fairy tales with feminist twists, like “Her Goodies Are Her Own,” Kailey Tedesco‘s sassy & sensual spin on Little Red Riding Hood. It’s just one of three very flappy poems Kailey contributed to FLAPPERHOUSE #6, now on sale via Amazon and Createspace,  or at fine independent brick-and-mortar stores like Bluestockings and St. Mark’s Bookshop.

{ X }

LITTLE RED WASN’T LITTLE
when she found apple-
blood in the cup of her
bloomers. She said don’t
call me little and don’t call
me red. What big breasts
I have, risen like yeasty
loaves. Big bad wolf
cat-calling all night,
claiming his pickle will rot
when she won’t let him put
it in her basket. Only she can
stroke the edge of her hood,
alone with the altruistic moon.
She’ll let it down when she says
it’s time, and don a little red sheath,
sequins groping beams of light,
as she skips past granny’s and howls
into a sap-stained forest of her own.

{ X }

Headshot UpdateKAILEY TEDESCO is currently enrolled in Arcadia University’s MFA in Poetry program. She edits for Lehigh Valley Vanguard and Marathon Literary Magazine, while also teaching eighth grade English. A long-time flapper at heart, Kailey enjoys hanging out  in speakeasies, cemeteries, and abandoned amusement parks for all of her poetic inspiration. She is a resident poet of the aforementioned LVV, and her work has been featured in Boston Poetry Magazine and Jersey Devil Press

“Summertime’s the Time for Torture / Time for Torture’s Summertime” – Poetry by Jessie Janeshek

Summer Play - Lee Krasner, 1962
Summer Play – Lee Krasner, 1962

That glisten you see on our face is only partly perspiration from the summer heat; it’s mostly from the joy we feel that we once again have the chance to share some wickedly spellbinding poetry by Jessie Janeshek. “Summertime’s the Time for Torture / Time for Torture’s Summertime” is just one of four poems she contributed to our Summer 2015 issue, currently orderable online via Amazon and Createspace. Or, if you live in the New York City area, you can pick up copies at independent brick-and-mortar stores like Bluestockings and St. Mark’s Bookshop.

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TAKE PLEASURE IN HUNGER
    these fat summer nights
          stretched out over Owl Lunch.

We’re glass figurines. We use autocorrect
      to tell fortunes, the glut.
Theft gives us pleasure, everyone drugged
mornings no better, slow monsters.

 
Is this a coffin or is it your bedroom?
          We box your left hand
          tie it with black ribbons.
Your doll has an orange topknot
          her period clear, totipotent.

      The computer’s delighted we’re members
      but the world stops when we leave
      the lipstick’s cap off.

 

Author’s acknowledgment: The phrase “slow monsters” is from a poem by one of my students, Julie Bromyard.

{ X }

jessie janeshek headshotJESSIE JANESHEK‘s first book of poems is Invisible Mink (Iris Press, 2010). An Assistant Professor of English and the Director of Writing at Bethany College, she holds a Ph.D. from the University of Tennessee-Knoxville and an M.F.A. from Emerson College. She co-edited the literary anthology Outscape: Writings on Fences and Frontiers (KWG Press, 2008).

“Firelighters” – Poetry by CL Bledsoe

The Flame (Goddess of Fire) - Odilon Redon, 1896
The Flame (Goddess of Fire) – Odilon Redon, 1896

The haunting yet humorous “Firelighters” is one of 5 fantastic poems by CL Bledsoe in our sultry Summer 2015 issue.

{ X }

I’VE BEEN SAVING THIS STASH OF GASOLINE for a girl
with a lighter like yours. Delilah, let’s burn
the night down and root out the monsters.
Their fur will singe so pungently. The crackle
of flames will engulf the sounds of their incessant
talking, talking, talking. Nobody has to get hurt,
they just have to shut up and get out of our way.

I should’ve lit it myself, years ago, but I thought
there might be something worthwhile in hiding,
watching the moon, whatever it is I’ve been doing
all these years. There may well be, but not for me.
Delilah, let’s hold hands while we lob grenades
into the windows of decadence. Afterwards,
we’ll roast s’mores over the coals and tell stories

about the times we died, our mothers died,
our fathers died, everyone we’ve ever loved,
died. One thing: monsters don’t burn as bright
as the stories say. I’ll bring a flashlight.
I’ve thought this through. You can trust me.

{ X }

HeadshotCL BLEDSOE is the author of a dozen books, most recently the poetry collection Riceland and the novel Man of Clay. He lives in northern Virginia with his daughter.

5 Facts About FLAPPERHOUSE #6

FLAPPERHOUSE6redcoverFLAPPERHOUSE #6 is full of blood, braille, booze, beauty, birth, rebirth, summertime torture, feminist fairy tales,  fake Game of Thrones spoilers,  wayward placentas, fugitive robots, and Hot Pockets.

FLAPPERHOUSE #6 is T. Mazzara‘s first issue as our fiction editor, so you may notice that overall our short stories look even leaner & more muscular than usual.

FLAPPERHOUSE #6 once again broadens our leathery wingspan’s embrace of the globe; in addition to the US, UK, Ireland, Israel, India, Sri Lanka, Canada, & Macedonia, we will now have published work by writers from Pakistan, Germany, & the Philippines.

Digital (PDF) copies of FLAPPERHOUSE #6 are now available to pre-order for $3US, ready to fly into your emailbox by June 21. (Print copies will be orderable starting June 20.)

The flight of FLAPPERHOUSE #6 will be celebrated with our 3rd reading at Brooklyn’s Pacific Standard on June 25.

“Who Else Would Make a World Like This” – Fiction by Stephen S. Power

detail from The Garden of Earthly Delights - Hieronymus Bosch, 1510 - 1515
detail from The Garden of Earthly Delights – Hieronymus Bosch, 1510 – 1515

SPOILER ALERT: Stephen S. Power‘s “Who Else Would Make a World Like This” (the first piece from our forthcoming Summer 2015 issue) takes place in a not-too-distant future during GAME OF THRONES’ series finale. Any similarities between this work of flash fiction and the show’s actual finale are purely coincidental. Any similarity between this story’s vision of our future and our actual future, however, is another matter entirely.

{ X }

ADAM AND HIS FRIENDS ERUPT IN CHEERS when, during the Game of Thrones finale, Jon Snow steps over Jaime’s body. Shots all around.

“Who’s got Jaime in the pool?” Adam says.

“I do,” Michael says. “Oh, wait. Damn.”

Bea laughs. “I can’t believe I’m still in it with Gendry.”

“Ssh!” Luce says.

Jon Snow picks up Oathkeeper and charges Aegon. Adam refills everyone’s glasses with Kilmagoon. He gives Bea hers. She kisses his hand. He kisses her neck.

The TV goes black.

“What the hell?” Michael says.

Adam waves. He snaps. Everyone claps. “Stop!” Adam says. He claps again. “TV, turn on,” he says. The TV doesn’t.

Adam’s phone buzzes. Luce looks over his arm. “You hit your viewing cap? It’s only the 13th.”

“I told you I binged the whole series.”

“Just pay for overage time,” Michael says. “Don’t you have escrow?”

“I blew it on the series,” Adam says.

“I’ll pay,” Bea says. She jabs the screen of her phone, entering the TV’s serial number.

The TV turns on. “Goddamn Samsung,” Adam says.

“Tell me your cable bill’s paid,” Michael says.

“Ssh!” Luce says.

Adam whispers to Bea, “Thank you.”

“Just watch,” she says, staring straight ahead.

Gendry’s Armies of the North, surprised after taking Duskendale, are being blasted by Dany’s dragons.

“And his dreams of spring die,” Luce says.

“I can’t believe I just paid to see that,” Bea says.

“You know, in the book–”

“Shut up, Michael,” Bea says.

The Brotherhood appears, it fires crossbows at Dany’s back, and the power in Adam’s apartment goes out.

“You cannot be serious,” Michael says.

Bea pulls away. “Should I break up with you now, Adam, or after I kill you?”

“I don’t know what the problem is,” Adam says. The city glows through the curtains. He goes to the door and cracks it because the peepscreen’s dead. “The hallway’s lit.”

His phone buzzes. “Unbelievable.” He turns it around.

“You hit your power cap too?” Luce says.

“Someone must be hacking my line again.”

“Now that you and Bea are done,” Luce says, “could we go out so I can dump you too?”

“I’m so sorry, guys.”

“Screw it,” Michael says, “I’ll use the app. Nothing like fifty-foot dragons on a 5-inch screen.” He taps his phone. Bea slides over to snuggle against Michael. He shakes her off. “This is crazy. ‘Due to reciprocal contracts with Consolidated Edison, CoxWarner cannot provide service to your location at this time.’”

Continue reading “Who Else Would Make a World Like This” – Fiction by Stephen S. Power

4 Famous Quotes to Prepare You for FLAPPERHOUSE #6

Liturgy Six-Winged Seraph - Natalia Goncharova, 1914
Liturgy Six-Winged Seraph – Natalia Goncharova, 1914

“If Man is 5, then the Devil is 6…and if the Devil is 6, then God is 7…” – Black Francis, “Monkey Gone to Heaven”

“God is sitting here, looking into my very soul to see if I think right thoughts. Yet I am not afraid, for I try to be right and good; and He knows every one of my struggles.” – Emily Dickinson

“If there are gods to listen, they are monstrous gods who torment us for their sport. Who else would make a world like this, so full of bondage, blood, and pain?” – Tyrion Lannister, A Dance With Dragons

“PDFs of our Summer 2015 issue, FLAPPERHOUSE #6, are now available for pre-order, just $3US.” – FLAPPERHOUSE