How High The Moon

Many years have passed since both horrific creatures, Count Dracula and the Wolf Man, fell over the cliff's edge, plummeting into the sea below. Never seen or heard from again.

But as it was said, time and wars proceeded to pass throughout the globe. While this cursed man's battle never ends.

Witness the horrors of a desperate man that defines new meanings such as, love and happiness, for his restful end.

If only that where true. To finally have my soul released from this misery, this burden... This curse.

I then chuckle, before frantically saying...

But, I can never die.

From Guest Contributor Jason Jenkover

After A Painting By David Lynch

He said to me, “I am dying.” I said, “How is that my fault?” but sat down on the bed and held him and rocked him. Somewhere out there the lake was being strangled. I was frightened the fish would die, and that this would instigate the death row shuffle for everyone. The sound of endless wars in far-off places is still buzzing in my head. I stop, I look. The boy and the car are gone. It’s just crying and anger here, and farmers who make less than a dollar a day having an arm or leg blown off.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.

Whimsy

The statue of young Buddha had been an exemplar of serenity when first placed under the tree. Time had passed. Wars had come and gone. Nutrients and sun had been converted into growth by the woody plant’s armoury of respiration and generative processes.

Aashi grinned widely at her discovery. The base of the tree had grown around and in front of the old idol, seemingly intent on squeezing it silly.

She looked closer. Through some trick of lichen growth, the once droopy eyelids and superior smile had been transformed into an expression of squashed distress.

Her tinkling laughter wasn’t malicious.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid