Jungle beans. Arctic
badgers. Green steaks.
Following clouds. Tarnished
vagabonds. Ludicrous
fingers. Fantastic booleans.
Waxing lyrically. Must stop. Back
to basics. Verbs. Nouns. Places.
Placemats. Cutlery. Action. Plot.
Poop.
I’m a gentle dragon’s fierce egg.
Not quite clear who I’m going to be
once I hatch, not even to me.
My heart’s got a spout
and some red thing
comes out of it. It
walks next to me,
talks reason, makes me
fall in love.
(Witty writing tends to
wilt unless it’s Wilde.)
At the harbor, he could
hear the muffled sounds
of a fog horn calling lost
mermaids and footloose
lovers by their true names.
Writing at home while rain fingers
sing Chorals on the window sill.
A young man madly in pursuit
of sound, milking rather than
playing the keyboard, shouts
at invisible musical ghosts.
One day a girl almost
destroyed the world by
making a single secret
brush stroke.
Her lids fluttered uncontrollably
as she struggled to leave
the cocoon. The butterfly
catcher put his finger on her
tiny head and squished it.
He had no need for fairies.
Stay with us or if you can’t,
don’t, but then go where we
can’t see you and if you can’t
do that, then don’t go, please.
MARCUS SPEH is a German writer who lives in Berlin and writes in English. His short fiction has been published in elimae, kill author, PANK and elsewhere. First published in 2009 at Metazen, his work has been nominated for a Micro Award, two Pushcart Prizes, two Best of the Net awards and two Million Writers Awards, and was longlisted for the Paris Literary Prize. Known as a staunch supporter of penguin rights and maitre d' of the legendary DADA venue Kaffe in Katmandu, he blogs in English at marcusspeh.com and in German at marcusspeh.de. MadHat Press will release Marcus' collection of short fiction, Thank You For Your Sperm, later this year.
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