#FBF Grief (Circa 2002)

No one is here in this room

Alone she bears the weight of sorrow

Walls faded, cracked

Wallpaper yellows in dim sunlight

One gnarled hand rests upon the covers

Bones jutting under skin like bundles of twigs

Eyes fixed toward heaven

Where he waits patiently

Stained tweed jacket dresses a broken chair

Just as he left it

She talks to the passing sparrows

Calling them by his name

Silently she shouts to the shining stars

Begs them to bring him back

But stars are fickle friends

Someday he will come for her

Free her from this prison of sadness and death

Until then, she waits

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Call It Slush: SFLR call for submissions

Putting this here for safe-keeping.

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

We’re reading!
Staff Lydia Gonzales, Baro Shalizi, Veronica Clark, Kate McCahill, Sudasi Clement, and Meg Tuite are busy looking for publishable poetry, fiction, and memoir.
Submit to:
SANTA FE LITERARY REVIEW
Miriam Sagan
6401 Richards Avenue
Santa Fe, NM 87508

Deadline: December 1, 2014

Send black & white art via jp file to: SFLRARTSUBMISSIONS@GMAIL.COM

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Tip: we’re looking for the unexpected–comics, graphic novels, mixed genre, screenplays, and bilingual work.

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#FBF Combustion (Circa 2001)

With your arms around me,

I burn up like the fuel in a dollar-for-ten-pack Bic lighter when the childproof latch has been torn off by a frustrated smoker with the childproof mind that can’t grasp the simplicity of the situation he had before his hands got burned by the spewing orbs of flaming fluid that will no longer be contained by the plastic casing as it slowly melts away leaving a scar on the palm of its master that leaves him with only one solitary concentrated thought

I hurt.

 

 

Copyright © Louisa Whitley 2014 All Rights Reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced without the author’s express consent. Backlinks are allowed.

#FBF Jester (Circa 2001)

You came

a day late when I was

a dollar short

Grinning on the

whipping post

Painted with my

blood

Ladies

in waiting, falling

at your feet

oblivious to the

disease

When the

smoke rises,

you’ll be

gone

 

Copyright © Louisa Whitley 2014 All Rights Reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced without the author’s express consent. Backlinks are allowed.

9 Times An Editor Would’ve Helped

Thanks 101 Books for brightening my morning with “anus beef.”

101 Books

Editors are my favorite.

They are the unsung heroes of the content world. Writers get all the credit, but editors make the content sing.

If someone ever tells you that editing isn’t that important, or that anyone can do it, or that you don’t really need to hire an editor for your article or book, then you should know this: You’ve just received the worse piece of writing advice in the history of writing advice.

Everyone needs an editor. Even the President of the United States.

Need proof? Here are just a few of the many times using an editor would have been highly beneficial. 

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