|Allen, R. A.
|Baker, J. D.
|Bartlett, Daniel C.
|Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc
|Burke, Wayne F.
|Campbell, J. J.
|Centorbi, David Calogero
|Crist, Kenneth James
|Davis, Michael D.
|De Neve, M. A.
|Dillon, John J.
|Dunham, T. Fox
|Fagan, Brian Peter
|Fortier, M. L.
|Greenberg, KJ Hannah
|Holt, M. J.
|Karl, Frank S.
|Larsen, Ted R.
|Le Due, Richard
|Lucas, Gregory E.
|Mannone, John C.
|Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl
|Owen, Deidre J.
|Reddick, Niles M.
|Sesling, Zvi E.
|Slota, Richelle Lee
|Smith, Elena E.
|Snethen, Daniel G.
|Taylor, J. M.
|Traverso Jr., Dionisio "Don"
|Turner, Lamont A.
|Waldman, Dr. Mel
|Weil, Lester L.
|Williams, E. E.
|Williams, K. A.
|Zumpe, Lee Clark
by Daniel G. Snethen
My first dog cost me $3.00.
part Collie and a mix
of who knows what
Duke was territorial
and protected the
His bite, literally was worse than his bark.
but everyone else was an intruder.
him in basic dog obedience
for 4-H and we
received a purple ribbon,
but we were forbidden
to advance to the
SD State Fair
because Duke was prone to biting.
dog, he loved chasing cars.
chaining him up at night,
but you have to
give a dog some freedom.
the neighbor girl’s boyfriend
past our place
with rags locked
into his hubcaps.
Duke chased and grabbed on.
morning, I found Duke—
dead on the
of our township gravel road.
that was likely more grief,
than I’d ever
And my mother was livid
anger I’d not seen
in her before or
looked up at God and said,
“Damn him, Yahweh!”
knowledge she never swore again.
a hot humid summer afternoon,
girl’s boyfriend drowned,
while swimming in a stock dam.
was naked and free.
Covered in blood spatter
like the bathroom
He lay on the tile floor,
Blood still flowing
from whence his
The straight razor still
in her right hand.
She, still in shock, wondering
& sarcophagic flesh flies
with nylon-headed Bohemian pins,
by the thousands,
filled tens of dozens
of professionally made Cornell
On display, neatly dispersed,
his country cottage.
Filled with expertly pinned,
Nurtured from blood-fed maggots
at crime scenes.
Each encasement a sacred mausoleum:
genetic gene pool of human DNA,
labeled with taxonomic information; locality;
collector nomenclature and
corpus delicti identification.
by Daniel G. Snethen
Named after a farmer's dog,
the highest point in Canyon County,
Idaho is an ecological treasure.
play tag and chisel-toothed
rats leave tail drags
in ancient volcanic ash.
Rear-fanged venomous spotted
night snakes and desert hairy
scorpions venture out after dark
in search of xerarch sustenance.
Giant turquoise blue centipedes
and slink like many-legged
diminutive serpents overhauling
slower, often larger prey, killing
them with venom before dining.
widows spin high tensile
strength silk over lava creating
sticky traps for ensnarement.
Rock wrens, woodrats, lizards,
ground nesting hawks and mound-
building formicide ants thrive
on barren rock devoid of water.
Jerusalem crickets and Mormon
eat what vegetation
there grows in this dry wasteland,
predated upon by habitat-destroying
dirt bikes and four-wheel drive trucks.
the strangest creature,
to sojourn across this magma-
hardened bluff, the solpugiid,
or camel spider, looks like
a tailless tarantula-scorpion hybrid.
An odd arachnid, inviting the heat
of the Idaho sun to get hotter
and even hotter, parching every other
living thing as he crawls unimpeded
through the moisture-less Idaho dust
undeterred for whatever prey
he can capture in his massive
exoskeleton crushing jaws of death.
G. Snethen is the owner and publisher of Darkling Publications. He serves as vice-president
of the South Dakota State Poetry Society. In May 2017, 10 pages of his poetry was anthologized
in Resurrection of a Sunflower, a tribute
to Vincent Van Gogh, curated by Catfish McDaris. Snethen's poetry has been
published by Bear Creek Haiku; Cover of Darkness; Danse Macabre;
Dark Gothic Resurrected; Haiku Journal; The
Horror Zine; Miller's Pond; Pasque Petals: Thirteen Myna Birds,
and several other publishers of poetry. Snethen also coaches oral interpretation of literature
and Poetry Out Loud. He has qualified two high school students for the National Poetry
Out Loud competition in Washington DC and has had the SD State Poetry Out Loud
runner-up on two separate occasions. His favorite poet is William Blake, and
his favorite poem is “The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner” by Samuel Taylor
Native American Male
Kills Caucasian Teenager at Hardee’s: Rapid City, SD
court finds the defendant Maȟpíya Kimímila Lúta
(Cloud Red-Butterfly) guilty of third-degree manslaughter and hereby sentences him to 10
years of imprisonment.” And, just like that, the 19-year-old Indigenous teenager
from Potato Creek, SD, was sent off to the state penitentiary.
months earlier, Cloud had entered the lobby of the 6th & St. Joseph
Street Hardee’s near downtown Rapid City, SD. What Red-Butterfly didn’t realize
is that he was walking into the midst of a clandestine anti-bullying campaign. What he
first saw were three non-native teenage males picking on an overweight native girl.
that on your fish, baby?
like tartar sauce—bet you wish it belonged to me—don’t ya?”
grabbed a handful of her fries and with a mouthful, exclaimed, “Damn bitch, these
sure taste good—just like you, I bet.”
The third spit a wad
of chewing gum into her Dr. Pepper. The girl started to cry.
surrounding patrons appeared to be a bit disturbed by this blatant display of disrespect
but ultimately chose to ignore it. And the bullying antics continued. But as the clientele
began to unwrap their sandwiches, they seemed to become more and more agitated. Finally,
they started to approach the front counter to complain.
they were not uptight about the horrible behaviors being perpetrated upon the young native
girl in plain sight. Oddly, instead, they were upset because several of their food
items had been deformed. Buns were flattened, burgers had no meat and fries were served
mangled and broken in two. The customers were both puzzled and outraged and demanded satisfaction.
after much consternation, the manager started to explain that this was all part of an anti-bullying
awareness campaign to show just how easy it is for people to become ambivalent and ignore
the plight of others while at the same time becoming extremely defensive when they felt
you all now realize that none of us should ever stand around complacent while others are
being harmed. Naturally, we will refill your orders and reimburse you your money and we
thank you for your participation and understanding.”
while this was taking place, Cloud Red-Butterfly—with the noblest of intentions and
totally oblivious to the ongoing campaign, asked the three teenage males to please
leave the young lady alone.
that’s when they called him a fucking prairie-nigger.
by Daniel G. Snethen
knew a Native gal in the Dallas jail
who called me, her Dad.
the only father-figure
she’d ever had.
put money on her books
so we could have our
and so she could
call her mother too.
young black woman,
a fellow inmate of my friend,
was lonely and
had no one to talk to
on the outside
Amber gave her my number,
before I knew it,
I was talking to some young
from inside the Dallas County Jail.
thought I was nice
and funny too.
Wanted me to check
I think she thought
we could hook up
once she left County.
checked her out,
half my age,
and a booty that’d make
hell was I
going to hook up with her,
a thousand miles
separating Dallas, Texas
and Dallas, South
Two Old Ladies Arrested for Feeding Feral Cats
Damn shame Yellow Mama is retired.
in dire need of her assistance.
Roberts, 85 and
Mary Alston, 61 were found
guilty of feeding
near the courthouse lawn.
of damage was claimed
by Elmore County
Both cat molesters
sentenced and released
on two years
Both claimed they weren’t
feeding feral cats,
but were capturing them
to be neutered
the feral cat problem
of the Nation.
Apparently, it’s illegal to stand
private County property
enticing feral cats
with a can of
in your wrinkled hands.
and the denial of a cat’s
just ought to be illegal.
in Wetumpka, Alabama it is.
Her Name Isn’t Margo, but It Should
by Daniel G. Snethen
never talks about feelings.
It is as if they do not exist.
If they do, they
are to be repressed.
But how can I repress such things?
is clearly a nebulous relationship,
obfuscated by shadowy concrete differences.
am the Yang for her Ying.
To most, I am a mystery shrouded in smoke.
understood thru Eastern mysticism.
She helps stem
She is my soothing opiate.
She completes me.
her, I am a child—yet complicated.
When I need her most—she knows.
does she know why she knows?
Does she really
know who she is?
Does she really know who I am?
Does she even
understand who we are?
I doubt it, I doubt it, I absolutely doubt it.
doubt she understands the answer
is deeply spiritual—not empirical.
doesn’t know that our essence
should be inseparable, uncontainable.
one cannot divide darkness from midnight,
or hold mystery and love in a locked box.
time, we transcend all these things.
But she knows not these truths
and I dare
not tell for fear of losing her.
by Daniel G. Snethen
stare into your eyeless sockets,
remembering how I used to torture thee.
I’d make you carry me
barefoot through the creeping thorns
the courtyard cobbles.
How I would beat the hump
your back with my wooden club
urging you to greater speed.
You loved me poor Yorick,
and I treated
you as less than a dog.
You were the court jester
and I of royal
Your disregard was my birthright.
You drug me from my castle room
when a fire raged
mere feet from my door.
Dove out through a window
to the frozen ground.
Cracked your brainless skull
broke your collar bone,
but cushioned my fall.
You watched over me,
entertaining me with silly feats
as I lay sequestered away,
the rest of humanity.
Ah Yorick, you were an idiot
have loved me so,
and I, I was the royal buffoon.
Daniel G. Snethen is an educator, naturalist, moviemaker, poet,
and short story writer from South Dakota. He teaches on the Pine Ridge Reservation at Little
Wound High School in the heart of Indian Country. His best friend is his
three-legged dog, Knightly, who is a cancer survivor.
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