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Confidential Report on the Disturbance at Big Echo-Fiction by William Squirrell
Dwight-Fiction by Anthony Lukas
Snake Heaven-Fiction by Kenneth James Crist
Of the Blood-Fiction by Lela Marie De La Garza
The Liars of the Laughing City-Fiction by Richard Godwin
The Bull-Fiction by Oliver Lodge
Scratch Off-Fiction by Colt Leasure
...til I Wake Up-Fiction by Denis Bushlatov
Therapist-Fiction by Robert Petyo
Visitors-Fiction by Roy Dorman
Three Shots for a Dollar-Flash Fiction by Matthew J. Hockey
A Nun's Smile-Flash Fiction by Cindy Rosmus
911-Flash Fiction by Karen Heslop
The Faint of Heart Work for a Living-Flash Fiction by Lester L. Weil
Another Day, Another Death-Flash Fiction by Sandor Kovacs
Jim Dandy-Poem by g emil reutter
Blind Man's Bluff-Poem by Marc Carver
Closed-Poem by David Mac
The Voice Within-Poem by Michael Keshigian
green shoots-Poem by Meg Baird
jack and jill-Poem by Meg Baird
An Outlaw in the Making-Poem by John D. Robinson
Often She Says-Poem by John D. Robinson
rogue dragonflies-Poem by ayaz daryl nielsen
rogue drones-Poem by ayaz daryl nielsen
wind through the evergreens-Poem by ayaz daryl nielsen
My Phantoms Hang Neatly-Poem by A. J. Huffman
The Hour of the Cat-Poem by A. J. Huffman
Owlish Eyes in the Dark-Poem by A. J. Huffman
Hail, Tiger!
Angel of Manslaughter
The Gazing Ball
Strange Gardens
Gutter Balls
Calpurnia's Window
No Place Like Home
ALAT
Dark Tales from Gent's Pens

Jim Dandy

 

by g emil reutter

 

In hardened veins, the life that was you

coagulates, thickens with each missed

breath. The chill of death is upon you.

 

Bacteria feast on what is left of you and I

think what were you thinking when you said

don’t embalm me, no autopsy, just put me

in a box.

 

You were a dandy dresser, everything was just

right. As tough as you were, your nails were

always manicured. The undertaker is not happy

as no matter how much makeup he applies you

my old friend are green.

 

There you lay, a rotting corpse in a box, a nicely

dressed rotting corpse, but rotting with eyes

beginning to bulge and your swollen tongue

pressing against the stitched lips of your mouth.

 

As they carry you out to the hearse the smell of

rotten eggs wafts about. You wanted to be one

with nature when you departed, you have succeeded.

At the cemetery they lower you down, throw the dirt

on your box.

 

No one will know those final hours your body

vanishes, nails and hair fall out, the organs that

gave life liquefy and finally you swell and swell

bursting open, your skeleton resting in the muck

of what once was you.

 

 

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. He can be found at https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/

In Association with Black Petals & Fossil Publications 2017