Notes from the Editors
Lyall Harris & Mundy Walsh
“Tongue twister” brought us wordplay, inventive forms, and a few surprises. Recently featured in a Sigh Press Ampersand Interview, Kevin McFadden takes us on a journey through language in the poems selected for this issue. We also hear from Stephen Morison, Jr, whose midnight tweets we welcome, Jeff Shapiro who brings us a conjugation riff that’s downright contagious, and Shelley Martin on two words we’re still scratching our heads over.
The visuals in this issue—an orchestra of line and shape—interpret Dante in an exciting calligraphic collaboration led by Monica Dengo. Our Contributors’ page has links to further learn about their work.
We’re hosting another Open Mic on March 29 at 7pm at Florence Writers in St Mark’s, Florence. We hope you’ll come to share your writing and discover a vibrant, creative community, and to raise a glass with us as we reach our third year at The Sigh Press!
Be on the lookout for our interview with Baret Magarian in the autumn and Kamin Mohammadi in the Winter 2017 Ampersand. Remember to visit Submissions page for our Summer Issue theme and deadline, and our Facebook page. Check out the pdf version of The journal.
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Contents
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BOOK ART, Monica Dengo with 24 contributing artists,
The Shape of Accents; A Visual Reading of the Divine Comedy
,
Deceit, Insect, Friendship, I-Fetish
!
Jr Horatio in Middle Age: A Tale Told in Tweets
‘
lay laid laid, lie lay lain
´
Dubbed
?
*
DECEIT
KEVIN MCFADDEN
Keep your eye on the shells. Don’t think of the old inhabitants long since skedaddled, looted, or shucked— they never twirled this purposefully, they never scraped to make a buck
Yes, yes, one guess.
Sore luck, try again?
Now, what do you take me for? My word! Then take it from me (on the order of receiving, reception, and receipt) the slip you’ll soon be given seals the deal once deceiving and deception find their seat. Up my sleeve or under your hat, it’s a whole lotta nada, no? I leave you with that.
Keep your eye on the shells. Don’t think of the old inhabitants long since skedaddled, looted, or shucked— they never twirled this purposefully, they never scraped to make a buck.
Yes, yes, one guess.
Sore luck, try again?
Now, what do you take me for? My word! Then take it from me (on the order of receiving, reception, and receipt) the slip you’ll soon be given seals the deal once deceiving and deception find their seat. Up my sleeve or under your hat, it’s a whole lotta nada, no? I leave you with that.
Keep your eye on the shells. Don’t think of the old inhabitants long since skedaddled, looted, or shucked— they never twirled this purposefully, they never scraped to make a buck.
Yes, yes, one guess.
Sore luck, try again?
Now, what do you take me for? My word! Then take it from me (on the order of receiving, reception, and receipt) the slip you’ll soon be given seals the deal once deceiving and deception find their seat. Up my sleeve or under your hat, it’s a whole lotta nada, no? I leave you with that.
INSECT, FRIENDSHIP
KEVIN MCFADDEN
Not so much the fly in the ointment,
nor the fly in a humorist’s soup.
Not the fly on the wall. Not the buzzer
beater Dickinson imagined she’d detected
when she died. Nor is this the proverbial fly
trapped in amber—too tragic a creature,
beguiled by an ancient circus bark,
some iferous con, his sucker pitch.
I could go on, but why? It’s just the fly
all afternoon keeping me company—
if you could call her that—no awareness
in those tempus fugit eye-eye-eyes that today
I’m central casting for the characters on this screen.
A part, I can see, she was born to play.
I-FETISH
INDEPENDENCE, INC! Ignorant in incendiarism, I ignite it inadvertently, impiously instigate interest in its idle idioms’ impregnability, its inevitably idealized imperial ice-cream.
Injurious, infuriating! Illustrious, industrious, ill-fitted immigrant Ilium!
Is it ill-advised? Illogical? Illegal? Immaterial, I imagine. Imbibe its irregular internationality, impishly inebriated. Its immaculate Inglés its Ionian idylls, its Icelandic incursion into inhabited Injun (inappropriately Indian) interiors; its Incan influences in Iberian iconography, its Igbo industry, its Irish indomitability, its Israeli imagination, its Islamic-Italian intermingling, Inuit igloos in icicles, interminable intermixtures, incoherent incognita. Income, incomers, incompatible, incommunicado… . Images: I-games, I invoke (intentionally illuminating its initial iteration).
Inexplicably intoxicated illusion! Imbecilic, I intone innocently (if infallible Innocent III interdicted, I intend it).
Innumerable interpretations! Innocuous interpolations! Illiterate illustrations! Instinctively investigate its indigenous interrelated incidents, its interruptive infighting, its impaired impact, its insufferable if inseparable insider institutions. I impart important, importunate, intimate implications (interchangeably). Immediately identify in. Its imports are imperturbable.
Its id is immeasurable! Its I is inviolate. It integrates indefinite identities incrementally.
Its intact Indo-european is impressive if inscrutable. Its illegible intelligence inconsistently intensifies its inquiries. It ingratiates itself ignominiously if input is idiosyncratic. Impunity, immunity. It involves itself, impresses itself, impoverishes itself, imprisons itself. It inaugurates its inauthentic incarnations into incarcerations. It invariably invites interrogations into its imprecations. Its intellectual iconolatry is interesting: ideas ingeniously inlaid, inwardly irreligious, inordinately imbricated, impossibly intricate. Ideals insomuch (Isaiah). Idols inasmuch (Ibid).
It’s inherently inhibited if imposturous. It is insensate inside. Inarticulate. Inarguably, its immediacy is immense. Its introspection is infinitesimal, its inertia is intuitive, its instant is infinite, its insignificance is imminent. Impertinently, I’m incubating it. Infidel! Inimical inbreeding!
Its indomitable itch is intense, inconvenient if inferring its inferiority. It is immature—is it immutable? Iffy. It is if it is, it isn’t if it isn’t.
Impartial impasse impending, incorporation is its inmost iniquity. Infusion is its infotainment. Innovation is its incredible interpreter. It impels its imperative impertinence. Its ilk is invisible, indistinguishable in indigo, I intimated. It impales its indefatigable impatience.
It is its intrinsically insane inquisition into ideation and impulse. I impetuously implore its individual individuals … “Interdependence, Inc!” I interject. Interglacial indifference. Interloping interlocutor, indulge its inundating inducements. It is insatiable. It is inalienable. It is intractable. It is implied. It is I.
!
HORATIO IN MIDDLE AGE: A TALE TOLD IN TWEETS
STEPHEN MORISON, JR
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jul 2, 1322
Recitation is on for Thursday evening as per usual. Tix avail from usual
outlets. Elsinore theatre. Again show not for young children.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jul 20, 1322
Much thanx to Jutland Times critic Christian Henning who liked the show
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Sept 15, 1322
Strangest thing is how the story begins to change Not in delivery but where
mind goes in the monos into the mazelike spirit of the Prince
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 2, 1322
Bad review in the Stockholm FOLKBADET. Bad enough that they
didnt like my performance but to accuse me of mistruths Haters gonna hate
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 3, 1322
Asking the simple questions these day the Prince never asked
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 15, 1322
Never believe the Swedes out there beyond the mists Spinning fake news
Always spinning fake Swedish news
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 17, 1322
No truth to the rumors that Fortinbras is estranged from his uncle in
Trondheim. The regime is like a well-calked boat around here, no leaks.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Nov 12, 1322
The castle is full of ghosts, haints Wandering the parapets and corridors
while the ocean rumbles
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Nov 13, 1322
After last show saw the Queen and Claudius in youthful bodies Ghosts like
butterflies fluttering for warmth w King Hamlet away at the Polack Wars
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 6, 1323
No truth to rumor that Brunhilde is torn between love for Prince Fortinbras
and loyalty to her brother, Cleve, Old Norways favorite general
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 25, 1323
Time is a garden waiting for spring to see what new truth arrives
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Mar 30, 1323
Performance is on for Thursday evening as per usual. Tix avail from usual
outlets. Elsinore theatre. Show not for young children.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – April 2, 1323
Prince has decreed there will be no more performances. It is most retrograde to his desires that I should leave the castle.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Apr 3, 1323
Nor shall there be more tweets about ghosts
Horatio @HoratioAbel – April 14, 1323
A princess is born! A beautiful princess is born!
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jan 11, 1325
I am tasked with the resurrection of the puppet theater in the nursery
Children of the castle may assemble Friday mornings for performances
Horatio @HoratioAbel – June 2, 1327
She is her fathers daughter Her favorite plays are about hunting
Also the one about the giant talking fish
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 11, 1331
Come one come all to the Friday morning performance of Warrior Circe.
Favorite play of the Princess. Tix available from the usual outlets.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – April 4, 1332
Come one come all to the Sat afternoon performance of Dido. Princess fav
of season. Tix available from the usual outlets.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – July 22, 1336
In honor of the visiting Baron Bjorn of Alsno a command performance
Friday of the old play: Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. No puppets. Tix avail
usu places.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jan 12, 1337
No truth to the fake news of sick Princess in tower room refusing food Gave command
performance yesterday She was full of empathy
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jun 21, 1337
Scandalous. Princess would never disobey fathers command. Princess
never disobeys.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 13, 1337
New production! The Perfect Wedding: A Tale Told in Three Acts.
A new and original play. Sure to entertain. Some puppets. Good for all ages.
Saturday.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 14, 1337
Swedish gunboats arrive!
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 14, 1337
Princess to be wed! Sailing to her new home. I stay. Baron reassures. Has
plenty entertainments in Alsno.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Apr 15, 1341
Norway is dead! Long live the King! Prince Fortinbras to be crowned King
Will pack up the castle and relocate to Trondheim.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – May 20, 1341
I will stay and continue to entertain the staff at Elsinore.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 19, 1341
The ghosts speak in whispers beneath the curling winds. Winter is coming.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Mar 21, 1343
War is declared! Warships in the Straits We watch from the parapets.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jun 4, 1343
The Swedish invaders are here! The Princess returns! The Princess returns!
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jun 4, 1343
She asks for the old play. You mean the Perfect Wedding? I ask. No, the
ghosts, she says. The arras. Tell about your old friend Hamlet.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jun 15, 1343
She no longer cries to watch the play. She nods as if in agreement. The
majestic Princess. The Baron sleeps through Mousetrap.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Sept 14, 1343
At Princess command a new play will be conceived. What of your life
Horatio? she asks. What of your childhood?
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 16, 1343
Fortinbras is dead in Trondheim. A rictus seized him during supper. His
face collapsed in his soup. Long live the Swedish king!
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Oct 31, 1343
Our sweet Princess will be crowned Queen with her Lord. Where is the
little girl I once knew?
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jan 7, 1344
Coswiger Strasse tbp Thursday evening. Tix avail usu places. Hamlet
Prequel. Show not for young children.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jan 13, 1344
Ghosts o young Hamlet and Rosencrantz on the parapets after show. Fresh
and smiling like day in the carriage long ago. Before return to Denmark.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jan 14, 1344
Were you really young once? sweet Queen asks. Were you really so
carefree and gay? wise Horatio?
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Jan 21, 1344
Queens asks for her next play. She asks for Fortinbras: Conquering Prince.
But The cold is in my lungs. Who will tell his story?
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 7, 1344
And what of my play? the sweet Queen asks. Breathing is a chore. I pray
you do not need one, I tell her. I pray you rule without drama.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 9, 1344
The Queen is with child! They wheel me to the theater to oversea the
puppet theaters repair. She stands beside me. The grown Queen.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 10, 1344
Ah, these Danish winds? Ghosts lovers heroes villains ghosts.
Let there be no more arrases.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 11, 1344
Not to be? The time for questions is past. The mists thicken.
Horatio @HoratioAbel – Feb 13, 1344
Who’s there? The first line was always also the last. Who’s there?
‘
LAY LAID LAID, LIE LAY LAIN
JEFF SHAPIRO
“Where’s your lei, Lou?”
“I, um, mislaid my lei at the luau, Lori.”
“Lying lech. You wooed Lulu on the Li-Lo in the low-lying lea.” “Unlikely. Lulu likes Len.”
“Then you lured Lola.”
“LOL. Anyways, Lars says Lola’s a lousy lay.”
“Lowlife,” Lori laughed lifelessly.
“I love you,” lowed Lou, lulling Lori.
Lewd Lou lied: he had lain with Elaine.
DUBBED
SHELLEY MARTIN
My friends and I sit around the glass table in our kitchen, staring at the many postcards we’ve arranged beneath the glass. Symbols of cultural endeavor and exploration.
“He started talking to me and then he probably saw that I was so hit and thought it was dub,” Z says in her strong Brooklyn accent, only made thicker with enthusiasm. I look to my other friends for clarification.
“Okay, what does ‘hit’ mean?” I ask finally.
She looks at me as if I’m crazy, “Hit? Hit! Ratchet! Ugly!” “Ooohhhh!” the rest of us all say in unison. “But that’s not true!” I complain, pretending to understand what dub means.
Our other roommate K walks out of her bedroom and comes into the kitchen groaning. “Did you see what stupid thing our president said?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry as I pull the article up on my phone. Definitely both hit and dub.
?
Cat got your tongue?
ISSUE 13 • SUMMER 2017 will be published in June.
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