Submission Guidelines

Our guidelines are deliberately vague because we have nothing worthwhile to say. It’s up to you to take us beyond what has gone before.

email: flash fiction/short stories/creative non-fiction to: aprilmaymarch777@yahoo.co.uk and poetry to: dorlamoorehouse@gmail.com (Please attach all fiction in word documents. Poetry can be either attached or pasted in the body of the email)

Submissions are now required for #101


Meet the Editorial Team:

Poetry Editor -
Dorla Moorehouse is a writer, bookseller, and dancer living in Austin, Texas. An Ohio native, she came to Austin in her early twenties in order to escape the cold, and has yet to regret her decision. Her favorite poets are Walt Whitman, Audre Lorde, Mary Oliver, and Dean Young. You can read her writing at http://dorlamoorehouse.blogspot.com/.

Creative Non / Fiction Editor -
Greg Oguss is a writer/musician who lives on the dole in Los Angeles

Fiction Editor -
Stuart Sharp is a writer and postgraduate history student living in East Yorkshire, and so knows far more about medieval history than is really good for him. His writing has appeared in such places as Estella's Revenge, Semaphore Magazine, and Decanto. His urban fantasy novel Searching is published by DDP.

Sunday, 2 March 2008

#21

Christopher Major
Sunk ?

Plastic mask
and air pipe
allow the
click-slurp
click-slurp
of regular breaths;
faces at the
glassy surface,
all anxious reflections.
Suddenly,
ripples caused
by metal paddles..........
peaks 'n' troughs
of a started heart.




Ben Barton
high street flasher

rubbing his cock against the door frame
his fingertips gripped, lip bitten

this man is wanking in the 3pm sunshine

en masse, the shopping crowd scatter and circle
lovers chewing gum,

schizophrenic

I watch his face turn into the corner
and he jerks on, so blissfully unaware of the world

and it of him.




Miles J. Bell
open the blinds on your own private apocalypse

i can if i want
write like
bomb laden
trucks screaming
round
hairpins
like cheesewire
across
a human fist like
a hurricane on
mars like bullets
drilled into a
cinema

but i don't
want
cuz

building w/
nothing but
hammers
causes
only
head-
aches
and
leaves
the
poem
flat
lined

like
this




David LaBounty
Fate, Contrived or Designed

small press poets

the ebb and flow
and flow and flow
of the same old

faces and words

major bigbox
retail chain
bookstore
poetry section

pages ignored
and ignored full
of the same old

names and words
except

there is no
ebb or flow

only

the same old water

swirling

stagnating.

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