Say: A Poem by Jamie O’Halloran
This poem was originally published online in Southern Ocean Review.
Say it is the furnace clicking,
when the house twips
animal in its walls
Say it is the neighbor
shouting obscenities at his wife;
the epithets, the fence tumbling
honeysuckle you share
Say it is the dog’s nails
needing to be clipped, only you
haven’t a dog
but you listen anyway
to the clatter of dust
coating the hardwood floor
Author’s Note: My poem “Say” was published in Southern Ocean Review in January 1997. SOR was an online literary magazine out of New Zealand that closed shop (and disappeared from the Web) after its 50th issue in 2009. It was doubly exciting to have my first on-line and international publication in one go. “Say” is one of the only poems I’ve written without punctuation, and since the late ’90s, I use initial caps for all lines. Other than those difference in presentation, my voice is in the sound and imagery of the poem.
In a Boat About to Drown: A Story by Robert Lopez
This story was originally published online in Taint Magazine.
Boats don’t drown. People drown. Boats sink. Something happens, then boats take on water, then they sink. They sink right to the bottom. The people on the boat try to keep the boat from sinking. They take measures. They use words like bow, stern, starboard and port. These words mean front, rear, right, and left. They use these words all the time, even when the boat is not sinking. When the boat is sinking they take measures. They make calls. They might even bail water. Then they put on lifejackets. Then they float around until someone comes by to pick them up. The people who come by to pick them up are called rescuers. They know to come by because they have been signaled. They are signaled through direct radio contact or by Morse code. Morse code, in telegraphy, is a series of dots and dashes that indicate different letters of the alphabet. S.O.S is the most famous code sent, which means Save our Ship. People say it doesn’t actually mean Save our Ship but what do they know. Mayday means the same thing. Why is not clear. It might have something to do with French. Rescuers are given positions of longitude and latitude. They say that rats are the first ones off a sinking ship, but unless they are extraordinary swimmers it does them little good. The rats are neither here nor there. The people rescued are called survivors. They are called the lucky ones. The unlucky ones are called victims. These are the people who are subject to float around with no one coming by to pick them up. Sharks attack them or the sun beats down on them or else it is freezing cold and they get what is called hypothermia. Hypothermia is a state of reduced body temperature wherein all bodily functions are slowed. Then they freeze to death. Then they are recovered. People can either be rescued or recovered. Survivors or victims. However, there are victims who are never recovered, their bodies. These are the people lost at sea. There are songs written about them. Boats are lost at sea, too. They are mentioned in the same songs. Drowning is different. Drowning is for people who can’t swim or who can no longer swim due to injury or exhaustion, or people who choose not to swim. Something happens, then they take on water, then they drown. They sink right to the bottom. The water can be deep or shallow, rough or calm. There is little difference. Water fills the lungs making life at first difficult, then impossible to sustain.
Author’s Note: This was one of my first stories that appeared in an internet journal, somewhere around 2002-2004, maybe. Otherwise, it was 1956. Taint Magazine was edited by Michael Kimball and someone else I can’t remember and it featured the sort of languaged up fiction I’ve always appreciated. I do remember when it went belly up there was a note on its homepage, Taint what it used to be.