Tears of happiness

Peg and Jan are feeling perky in the spring sun. While we normally find them lounging in one way or another, maybe toying with semis on a nearby highway, but never if it means getting up. 

Today they are up on their hind legs standing opposite a roundish boulder that stands higher than most gulls, for example, would dare to fly. 

"Now clench your talons and shove a little." 

"Oh! It does move. It's not stable at all! Fun."

 They found merriment in rocking the mountain-sized boulder this way and that.

"It's so warm. I just want to lean against it."

The friends both pitched forward until their bellies were flat against the hot rock surface. They managed to reach across the top and lock claws briefly. 

Peg's tears of happiness crashed down, weakening the integrity of the granite. Cracks begin to form. 

Just as the cataclysm begins, eventually burying several nearby fleke communities, Jan and Peg's wingtips dart into place with a flapping thunder that rivals the roar of splintering rock and screaming below.  

Once in flight, they learn that they can press their bellies against each other and get the same warm pleasure they'd just got from the boulder. Then they each twirl away from the other, rising briefly, and curving back down again, opposite one another, and at the same time releasing their purplish intestinal gases. This, they laughed, has created a "fart heart." 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Ironically, one curious gull does venture up toward Peg and Jan, attracted by the spectacle. As the intensity of their laughter reaches him, unfortunately, his brain explodes, and he crashes into the clouds of dust below. 

Phyliss

Everything is hilarious to them

Because they are so powerful, everything is hilarious to them. Ks do not have power so much as they are power. They affect the hilarity of spoiled children while inhabiting bodies that could crush a small neighborhood. 

What the flekes had failed to do with spears and arrows, the Jans excelled at with a new approach. Their armies of college educated unemployed were turned to the task of capturing and subjugating, and then coopting some powerful Ks of their own. 

Originally meant to be a decoy, the first hybrid K. was fitted with commercially available security cameras embedded in her eye creases, and a sort of war room was established for the Jansdaads to control her movements through a process they were developing called Remote Muscular Positioning. Her name was Peg. 

After all the poking and prodding and sawing and chopping and stapling and wiring, she'd ended up with a little Jansdaad blood along with a slice of Jansdaad gristle that made up key elements of her new nervous system. Some wondered if she'd be able to artificially mate and conceive with a Jan. Some others should have listened more closely to that concern, perhaps, or maybe they didn't because they knew it was the will of Mthyuh. At some level, they were all shot through with the religious beliefs of their ancestors. It was one way to make sense of what was happening without going insane. 

No one expected Peg to morph into a completely normal looking Jan self, although a little fierce in the brow, or that she would end up marrying a hot older black man with gray-blue eyes and frosted sideburns. 

He was a news anchorman, and she was in the news all the time. They were both a sort of freak in their own way. They bonded and bore at least one child. 

The most awesome aspect of the new Peg was that she could morph right back into her K self as it suited her. Gradually, her own organs and primeval systems not only grew to their original strength but also began to subsume their artificial enhancements and incorporate them into a much more powerful and independent K than ever before. Peg and Ted's kids also had this morphing ability. At a young age, they would form a cocoon and then step out of it as lucid as the grandmother stepping out of the guts of the wolf who thought he'd fooled her. 

Eventually Peg and other K hybrids learned to navigate the many holes of The Crack. Some, like Jan, had relationships and families in a number of different holes. The Mthyuh Preservation society encouraged this behavior as a way to prevent them from feeling confined and wanting to eat flekes as the Mouths of Mthyuh. Sometimes the most dangerous Ks would disappear for many seasons as they lived their lives in other destinations within The Crack. 

by Phyllis

sunhole101

 

sunhole 100

 

LESBIAN MOTHERS EAT APPLE PIE

 

apothecurian

you have tried these
mixes and survived

we appreciate it big time

but when you die

calculation will decide

no love inside

how can we 

stay on this ship

and not touch the surface

apothecurian

fetish or mission

better than an algorithm

frag.

Heroes of Sacrifice

La LaChama-la 

symbiotic and/or transactional

 

Shab has lumbered along for nearly three days not even stopping at the babbling streams nor accepting any of the boiled chrysanthemum wrapped in pig crackle the pilgrims offer as they walk beside behind and ahead of him.

He is migrating like a lower beast. This is the season and the moment to simply magnetize toward his lord, the Begging Rajah. 

Shab sometimes believes that Ilyn is the Begging Rajah even though Shab's saddle has not been filled for many seasons, and even though Ilyn always rides instead behind him in the square wheeled wooden cart. Ilyn's bed of marigolds is only dust at the bottom of the empty cart now, but Shab still bears his yoke patiently, knowing that our surface is tilting once again toward the miracle. 

Soon Ilyn will be spotted wandering out of a canyon or lying as if dead by the side of a road wearing nothing but his scars and the markings of marigold paste the pilgrims have stopped to anoint him with before moving back toward the hill caves to smoke the vine and say shiv throughout the night. 

Ilyn and Shab would pay their official visit through each town in turn to thank them for their faith and offerings and help to celebrate the cycle of destruction. 

It seemed like everyone has rings on their toes and as they gather the dusty floors glistened with tin, cadmium, and peridot. Some of the villages have diving competitions to honor Ilyn's sacred moment of glory at Mthyuh's Diving Board. Some of the boys even set their hair afire before jumping just as Ilyn's long red mane turns to actual flame as he plumets toward the boiling pit of lava. 

The fields orchards even varmints will go dormant until Mthyuh is paid back for her bounty so that she does not send her Mouths to prosecute their debt. 

Still, as Ilyn prepares to dive, it is customary to shout eat me first! Missy has taken to circling this ceremony coasting on the foul volcanic gases and listening for the cries to strengthen in fervor and therefore in terror. 

by Phyllis
embedded

 

powers

moon enters my house

uninvited unannounced

yet i need its powers

by Tom

Large monuments, people on drugs

large monuments

people on drugs

laughing and drinking 

at work

cries are dim

cries from within

are dim

the same needy creatures 

need as much

want as much

as before

looting

degradation

of monuments

miracles 

are withheld

looted 

down to the foundations

we have applications

disconfidence

plentitude

panic

a monk

who might have immolated

walks instead 

on a plane

a spy

a gang

looting from within

cries are contained

laughter

derision

intoxication

natural death

some creatures thrive

others fertilize

the firmament

the core

the reason

the ancestors

all looted

by Missy

Creative Thesis Option, p. 6

what

I looked toward the heavens and asked what

I looked inside at my conscience and asked what

Aloud, I asked the room, which was empty, what

La Chama-la
Fragment: Days of Destruction Address

Strings with knots

like a puppet's hands if the strings had knots

to open up is can't, not to not want

these unwelcome growths mark time and effort

thus stories have been told by peoples not

wanting to forget but in recording find

that media as memory is more vulnerable 

than a memory that has built its capillary 

knots cranial cathedrals dying kings

there are the last knots ending in fringe

there are hair knots ironically created

when attempting to impose order on

the sort of chaos that guarantees a knot

you can roll a knot on the tip of your

finger with some spit, a knot that can

hold the entire construction in place

by Missy
Table IV: Free Verse
MPS Gifted Fair

Days of Destruction

 

Own-brain dialogics

I was waiting in the garden for Mkidza Mlaf, mistress of the dance, and I happened to notice a fleke walking his hybrid in from another neighborhood, a mini-K male like the ones I've been seeing off leash in Jansdaad Park lately. Well, I decided, it won't be for long. That K is gonna end up in a shelter on a kill list and that fleke is going to be in prison prolly before that. 

Then of course I had to take myself aback, listen to what I was saying with a critical ear. And doing this, I felt ashamed.

Then I started plotting out how to call the MPS on the flekes while they are still there, in Jansdaad Park, with their K's off leash, without them being able to guess that it was me who called. 

Then I began to wonder how long it's been since a Jan was ever even present at Jan Jansdaad Park, maybe not even since the ground breaking way back before The Crack got opened. For years it's just been gypsies and now that the gypsies have been driven out or terrified to go outside, the flekes are filling the vacuum. 

The Ks have even more right historically to be free on this surface. Letting them off leash is a symbolic act aimed at the rest of us and probably lost entirely on the pathetic "reimagining" of the former kings of the planet. They glop around on rubbery feet, and their once mighty wings are token bone and skin flaps that only create eruptions in the sweat glands beneath them. Mini-K males feel permanently ready for a fight, but they don't know why. Of course their teeth can still tear flesh, and their tongues can pin down a varmint even if it appears a spear's length behind them.

I've ended up taking no action at all. I'm glad I've discovered the power of own-brain dialogics. 

by Tom

sunhole P97b

when they bring me out among the trees

my instincts bubble over and I'll scream

at the critters who live in the hollow knobs

by Lager

Physician's Notes: Metacognineuralpsychescantissueread

Missy: Cascading pubescent female, multi-special 

Suspected but never before recorded: 

Patient's brain attempting to halt processes of other parts of same own brain

Bio-dialogic processes using symbols and sounds of host's own language that actively change cell production, synapse strength and number, direction and intensity of cerebral blood flow

Who is taking the various sides of these arguments, and how do they win or lose? Do they attempt to come to a consensus/ compromise, or is brute force a deciding factor?

Example language within and between brain parts detected and decoded: 

stop...stop or i won't stop singing...you were tripping...look around

Physician's Notes
Metacognineuralpsychescantissueread
MPS
Dr. Donna Thong, Licenciature Pending

floating skull

floating skull

you've finally broken free

but can no longer turn your head

you call it surrender

this black mist is survivable

and not only because you're

dead, floating skull

there is a breeze

no one excepting a mother 

recognizes you without 

skin, a body, wisecracks

but i see you there

by Missy

slug shaped ship

 

house fire

 

brass mirrors ferns marble

for fifteen years i dissociated into a blog

it had to be worse than just going wrong

for me to see what's been all along

i realize now i could not fictionalize

these organic singularities i now prize

i say what happened and don't apologize

two silly boys making funny poses 

every noon they sleep on roses

snoring gently through their noses

too young to recall the destruction

the chaos and societal obliteration 

after the Crash of the K-5000

Salso Flamble

 

tiny wind bell

tiny wind bell

bought in Bangkok

welcome the spring

these winds bring buds

by Jan

 

 

 

 

Terminal karmic fallout

took another look at the cracks in the ceiling

first time since cancer shook that immortal feeling

now existential threats seem more appealing

because i made it to the next product rollout

no worries vex re: terminal karmic fallout

i rent my own flesh as a chemical redoubt

from an industry enmeshed in an economy 

while a budget takes a knee to autocracy

the poor and weak uncertain what's about to be

those who would die but for their government

watch drunken teens rage across the firmament

a culling more like nature than intelligent

by Jan