Criticism. Essay. Fiction. Science. Weather.
week:
1The disadvantages of having a hole in your
foot, a cat named Buckley, and falling in love. 2Come eat it.
Or don't. 3Wine, Shoulder, Bolt, Socket. 4Mothbombs 5On the road with your only soul. 6One woman's trash is another woman's treasure 7Aliens! Right here in America! 8It's not as crazy as it sounds
or, music is as music does 91) Sign.
2) Hope for the best. 10A friendship in a bottle. 11A five-year-old tries his hand at action adventure. 12Will the circle be unbroken. 1390ways' first Quaterly Review rages on:
2 samples of Fiction. 14Muscles and fat.
A thin layer of sweat. 15Fiction goes serial.
Part 1 has sex and drugs.
You know you want to stay tuned. 16Our fiction serial concludes to cure your
vertigo from last week's cliff-hanger. 17An iced-out 21-speed sensation: The Moves are
all up on your handlebars. 18We're all in this together.
Except those bastards in administration. 19Jilted, laughed at,
and in the air. 20Swirling and swirling... 21You can't make yourself like them, but you have to pretend because they are your family. 22How well do jewel cases retain odor?
About as well as you stink. 23It's black and white. It's old world.
It's photo time. 24Piggy calls, wanting to sell you insurance.
This is what's on the other end of the line. 25A long pause, then, 26Fiction's Second Qaurterly Review
can speak Italian. 27It's only bread, after all. 28It's job search time at 90ways. 29George W. Bush's resting heart rate and a bum in a green sweater. 30Antique weaponry and teenage angst.
Together at last. 31One-hundred-fifty-three syllables
of October fun. 32there is only
self 33She's cold to the touch.
Cold and pebbly. 34Gut-wrenching love.
And wallabies. 35Building a habit out of ivies and orange flowers. 36A 90ways exclusive sneak peak at the
new and groundbreaking Alphabet Book. 37Type it with one hand and
see what happens 38A face any susbsitence farmer could love. 39The Quarterly Review: read it again for the third time. 40For every task, someone is the best.
Sometimes that's impressive. 41I didn't get a computer;
I moved to Indiana. 42The deepest of mistreatments, in three. 4390ways has new concerns about identity theft. Lock up the children and your sense of self. 44time. eyes. deep sighs. 45I know there's a place 4690 stars are born. 47I had to ask. 48It's about sex.
But isn't that always the way with classical music? 49The epistolary form in the 21st century.
Complete with neuroses and unpunctuation. 50There is no end to the party. 51Rockin to the sweet sounds of prepared food. 52Of or pertaining to. 53Including spaces, this blurb is 90 characters. Ways, words, characters. It is a leitmotif. 54Minnesota. Miami. Poetry in 90ways' Fiction.
It's the best of all worlds. 55It lives and breathes and is hungry for carnival food. 56Manhandled, womanclutched, or otherwise attended. 57The curtain is being pulled back... 58Up in the Fiction house! It's a bird. It's a plane.
It's an illustralogue! 59The hat, in all honesty, is a private matter. 60Putting up with all the doth. 6190words strike terror into the hearts of the longwinded. 62Return of the illustralogue! 63Take one down, pass it around,
blow your nose. 64All any of us want is a little approval and some light stalking. 65The First Quarterly Review wants
you to meet its little friend. 66From our servers to your ear buds!
It's misguided enthusiasm, in podcast form! 67Questions for the man himself.
Plus, the podcast adventure continues. 68No one would ever use Starbucks
to define their identity. Right... 69Don't you remember the rose clipped under my windshield wiper like a butterfly under a pin? 70Oh, it's nothing.
Oh, it's life-threatening disease. 71It's not you. It's me.
And my Eurasian captors.
72Root, root, root for the brisk
sale of anything possible. 73Look within the very bowels of the soul.
Or at least your mother. 74We're not strangers any more. 75He knows of what he speaks. 76I find that often times I'm quite
mature enough to enjoy a few beverages. 77He is licking me.
I don't like it one bit. 78Our favorite stuff is coming 'round the mountain, again. 79A wooden-back brush and a homemade bowl of oatmeal. 80A man's home is his... 81Fack to the Buture. 82This dude pulled back on his nose
and mucus and unleashed a city. 83The polls are in. 93% of respondents do not approve of the monkeybone lodged in their lower lip 84Like a thirsty man in the desert 85Taxpayer dollars wasted on broken egg. News at eleven. 86She loves her red octopus.
She will chew it to death. 87Bubbling, gurgling, fighting a moment to stay afloat. 88Molting our pasts into the air... 89The Return of 90 Words 90It comes but once a... ever. 91Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, the end of the Fiscal Quarter. 92The 540 word circle is now unbroken. 93An emptying out of the animus, perceived as tranquility
94All roads lead to South Dakota. Or at least the I-90 does, anyway. 95He laid down his whittling knife and he and his brother took up arms in rage. 96Drinking manhattans made with a good bourbon, and strong. 97Living white and pudgy, I never expected much for myself. Now, I could tell that was true. 98A few gestural lines towards the thought of death. 99Rest in peace.
I know I will. 100And then we played baseball and then we played army and then we were best friends. 101We torn holes in sheets and became ghosts for each other's pleasures. 102I looked at the pictures of you, twenty years old,
sometimes skinny and sometimes your face a soft moon.
103Fingers clutching little trinkets of the day... 104All roads lead to South Dakota. Or at least the I-90 does, anyway. 105Everywhere signs of an interstice arriving. 106What you see and what you believe are two different things. 107It was as if a million literary ghosts poured from its pages, moaning to be set free. 108So what if too many times we have been here, both
lost in our machinations...
Buy Me Peanuts and Literature
Judson Merrill
A couple folks, Dad and Son, are sitting at a baseball game. They are watching intently and then a vendor comes walking by.
VENDOR: Coke 'ere, get you coke ere. (Pause) Cool refreshing coke. (PausePause) Delicious coke for a hot day. Coke ere. Better than sex! Get your delicious coke here!
DAD: Hey, you want to keep it down. We're trying to watch the game.
VENDOR: Sorry, Mister. I was only pointing out that you can get... Coke ere! Get your coke!
DAD: Look, I don't think anyone here wants a coke. So you can put a lid on it.
VENDOR: Nobody wants a coke? NOBODY WANTS A COKE? HEY, do I tell you how to watch the game? No I fuckin don't. So you don't tell me who does and who does not want a coke. COOOOOKE EEEEERE! GET YOUR COKE!
SON: Yeah, I'll have one.
DAD: What?
VENDOR: The man wants a coke.
SON: Make it 2 actually. I'll buy you a coke, Dad.
DAD: I don't--
VENDOR: No can do. I've only got one coke.
DAD: All that yelling and you only had one coke?
VENDOR: Hey, asshole, did you ever once hear me say "cokes eres"?
DAD: What?
SON: One coke is fine.
DAD: I can't believe this.
The Vendor sells Son the coke and runs off.
DAD: Thank god.
Another Vendor struts into the stands.
DAD: Here we go again.
VENDOR: Joyce. Get your joyce here. James Joyce. Wonderful irish prose. Get your joyce ere.
DAD: James Joyce?
SON: Dad! He's probably the greatest English language novelist ever.
DAD: Oh, Jesus son, I know who he is but--
VENDOR: Finnegan's Wake, U-Lysses, Dubliners, get your joyce. Steaming hot fiction.
SON: Sir, sir? Do you have portrait of the artist as a young man.
VENDOR: PAYperback. $17.
SON: One here.
VENDOR: Portrait of the artist. Joyce ere.
Vendor leaves.
DAD: $17, yeesh.
SON: It's a great book dad.
Another Vendor walks by.
VENDOR: Legal advice, get your legal advice ere. Piping hot legal advice. Get it while its current. Legal advice here.
DAD is confused.
SON: Yeah, hey, mister, I'll take some legal advice.
VENDOR: How many?
SON: How... many advices?
VENDOR: How many?
SON: One advices.
VENDOR: Criminal?
DAD: I should say not. That's my son.
SON: Criminal'd be fine.
VENDOR: If you gotta testify, and I'm not saying you should, look out. Cause on the cross they'll try to get you saying yes to everything. Get in there, break up the rhythm. Elaborate. Say yes in as many, and as varied ways as you can.
SON: Okay.
The Vendor runs out.
DAD: You've encouraged these guys enough. Knock it out.
SON: I only bought practical stuff dad.
DAD: Well, either way it's enough.
Another vendor comes out.
VENDOR: Rights ere! Get your rights! Get em while they're righteous. You want em we got em. Rights ere. Get your rights!
DAD: This is too much.
SON raises his hand.
VENDOR: Rights for the fellow ere. What'll it be?
SON: Ummm...
VENDOR: You wanna pray in school? $25.
SON: I'm out of school.
VENDOR: Habeas Corpus? $50.
DAD: We've already got that right.
VENDOR: Got it on you?
DAD: Wh--
VENDOR: Far be it for me to tell you how to run your life, sir, but I hope your boy don't get arrested on the way home and find himself without habeas corpus.
DAD: I--
SON: I better take it dad.
VENDOR: Sold!
Vendor leaves. Still another Vendor comes into the stands.
VENDOR: Virtues ere. Get your virtues. Seven holy virtues ere!
Just give me one thing I can play for.
Disco boys on bicycles.
So what if too many times we have been here, both
Poetic Retrospective
The Weather votes for Kelly Clarkson.