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sparkle + blink 68
2015 Quiet Lightning
artwork Taylor Mazer
taylordraws.com
Undertow by Prartho Sereno
from the collection Elephant Raga (Lynx House Press)
The Adventures of La Dos in Costcolandia by Javier Huerta
from the collection American Copia (Arte Pblico Press)
book design by j. brandon loberg
set in Absara
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CONTENTS
curated by
Taylor Mazer
Wild
American Chien
1
2
3
XIAOJUAN SHU
The Cornfield
CHELSEA KIRK
13
JENNIFER LEWIS
My Collection
15
CLAUDE CONVERS
21
MK CHAVEZ Artemis
LAURA JOAKIMSON
Where We Lived
Smaller
Alien Rights
Always Speak to Strangers
Red Dress
23
24
25
26
27
31
33
JOHN HAGGERTY
35
Polar Bears
37
39
45
51
ET
QU I
G IS SPONSOR
LIGHTNIN
ED B
Y
lagunitas.com
QUIET LIGHTNING
A 501(c)3, the primary objective and purpose of Quiet
Lightning is to foster a community based on literary
expression and to provide an arena for said expression. QL
produces a monthly, submission-based reading series on
the first Monday of every month, of which these books
(sparkle + blink) are verbatim transcripts.
Formed as a nonprofit in July 2011, the board of QL is
currently:
Evan Karp
founder + president
Chris Cole
managing director
Josey Lee
public relations
Meghan Thornton treasurer
Kristen Kramer
chair
Kelsey Schimmelman
Sarah Ciston
Katie Wheeler-Dubin
secretary
director of books
director of films
- SET 1 -
MMMMMMMMM
A R TE M IS
Come ride
my
ovarian horns.
Down
with the captive
Clitori.
Be free
&
speak
my
grizzly
bear
lips.
WILD
There are good bears
and bad bears.
I am one of them. She-bear,
a honey and potential
man-eating mammalian.
I forage because times are hard.
I growl at the wrong moments,
its the juxtaposition
of my needs and the food
in your hands.
We have all clawed at someone.
Remind me of the year
I became the unknown
visitor.
I am still learning eastern
& western time.
Once I was a dancing bear.
Here are my teeth.
What do you think?
2
AMERICAN CHIEN
She pats it
like
the family dog
Treats it
like
an umbrella
Now open/ Now close
Makes it do tricks
Sticks
an eyeball in it
Scares
all the customers
Eye can see you
Persona
non-grata
Vagina
dentata
that
thing
down
there
MK Ch ave z
XXX
XXXXXXXXX
T H E C O R NFIE L D
Yaya! Lets go play Fucking, whispered Bing outside
the window.
It was noon rest time. Grandpa was asleep in the
bamboo chair in the living room. I tiptoed through the
front door. Cicadas on the trees in front of the house
were complaining, Too hot! I followed Bing on the
dirt road to Fengs house next door. Bings grandma
was my grandaunt, and I had been following him
around since Mama dropped me off at grandparents
three months ago. After Feng joined us, we headed
west. The large green cornfields were on the left
beyond a ditch with muddy water.
I was five, Feng six and Bing eight.
Through a side trail, we crossed the ditch and walked
on the narrow footpath between the cornfields. After
making sure nobody saw us, we quickly entered the
forest of corn. It was cooler in the cornfields with
the corn tassels looming above me, twice my height.
Smelling the dry dirt and the ripening corn, we
threaded our way through the cornstalks further
and further until the cicadas sounded distant.
5
pretty girl. Ill get you out of here, the stranger with
big hands said. He lifted me up and carried me in his
arms. In the moonlight, through tears I saw Feng in
the crowd.
The man walked fast and soon the noise of the
crowd was behind the narrow cement bridge. My
grandparents house was nearby. I wanted to be put
down, but he kept walking. I smelled corn. We were in
the cornfield. Suddenly, I was scared.
I want to go home, I said.
He locked me in his arms and pressed my body against
his chest.
I want to go home! I kicked him.
His big hand moved under my dress between my legs,
like the sandpaper Grandpa used, scrubbing my skin.
I began to cry.
One big hand covered my mouth while the other was
touching my naked part in a strange way, a finger
poking inside. It hurt so much that I wanted to scream,
but my voice was trapped in my chest. I kicked him
harder, but his body was hard like a rock.
Ahhh! a voice shouted. It was Feng.
Xi aojuan Sh u
Xi aojuan Sh u
11
CCC
EULOG
CCCCCCCCC
Y FO R A G O L D F I S H
14
JJJ
JJJJJJJJJJJ
M Y C O LL E C TI O N
I bought my first wig when Mo was diagnosed with
breast cancer and she had started losing her hair. She
and I went to the Lemmon Wig Shop and I remember
being impressed by the quality and selection. They
looked like real human hair! They were more expensive
than what Id budgeted for, but the sky was the limit
for Mo, and it was important that she walked out of
Lemmons feeling pretty, or at the very leastamused.
I remember being nervous when we walked in, seeing
all those wigs on cartoon mannequin faces in the
windows was a little creepy, but the people behind the
counter gave us big smiles and encouraged us to try
on every wig in the store. Hours later, we rolled out
of there with four wigs, fake eyelashes and bedazzled
press-on nails.
Paul had been dead for only a month when I found
Jonathan, my grown-ass son, in my walk-in closet. I
heard a wig rustling off one of the six Styrofoam
heads. What was he doing in there? Trying one on? My
knees trembled and my heart galloped thinking of him
finding my collection: a waist-length platinum job,
a short red number with bangs, some curly brown
locks, a Dolly Parton, A Crystal Gail and Britneys
15
17
Je nni f e r Le wi s
19
CC
CCCC
CCCCCC
CC
D I D I R E A L LY
21
LL
LL
LLLLLLLLLL
W H E R E W E LI V E D
23
SMALLER
Sometimes I think the world
wants my voice to be
smaller
wants me to be smaller
like the woman in Delaware
who starved herself small enough
that her married boyfriend
could squeeze her body into
a Styrofoam ice chest and float it out to sea;
I dont want to need anything;
dont want to be heard or validated
or seen
dont want you to think about me
after you stop.
24
ALIEN RIGHTS
Would it help if I told you
all the ways I dont quite belong to the human race?
All the times Ive been turned down,
looked over, found short of the mark?
If I ask you to judge, youll find me wanting.
I know. I know. I know.
Would it help if I lie and say your acceptance
doesnt mean much to me? Would it help
if I say your pity, your condescension, your stony-eyes
cant flay my skin? Would it help if I told you all the ways
I dont quite belong to the human race?
25
26
RED DRESS
When I was six years old
I overheard my mother
talking about things
I couldnt do.
She cant wash
her own hair.
It outraged me.
Because shed never asked me to.
I took the shampoo from
her hands, the next time
lathering my own long
hair; she looked stunned.
I stand too far away
from you at the bar;
not wanting to enter
your sacred space.
I dont want to see in your eyes
a disappointment in things
you think I cant do.
Like wear a red dress.
Lau ra Joa ki mson
27
Or open up to you.
Or appreciate you for who you really are.
A storyteller on stage mentions
a man who loved her
more than she loved him
and though she offered to give him
what she could.
Her friends told her
it wasnt enough.
So she pushed him away.
It might not have been
the reason
he died less than a year later
but the thought that it might have played
a role makes her voice tremble.
I was afraid if I wore the red dress
you would have known
I love you. And you
would have sent me on my way.
28
- SET 2 -
LLLLLLLLLLL
(S O M E T HI N G )
this spill of sounds
this waste of words
each letter
a rough touch
tender on the tongue
this skin story
this blue-black constellation
told by the bruise-hurt
of truth
this collision of light this balled-up sentence
tight in my fist
each earnest vowel
pressed to my
lips
this breath
balanced
on fingertips
glow n
of nothing
glory
out my open window
(something)
everything
31
CCCCCCCCC
MANZANITA
Manzanita
how naive of me
to think we have finally
changed
A grove of untrees
carmine congealed
on the branches
peeled skin
from a womans arms
hold tight her love
as you become a man
Bright like the bush
that opened Moses eyes
twisted limbs
At your fingertips
an offering of fruits
the promise of sweet taste
after bitterness
bitterness that seems to go on
moment after moment
In a garden
your bones are discussed
between the artist and the
33
architect
whether it is more suitable
to place them on a table
with votive candles
or to decorate the entrance of a hall
How naive of me
to drink your tisane
and without a message
possess your body
time becomes intolerable
Manzanita standing
in front of a fleet of tanks
Manzantia, concrete pouring
Mandella
Ghandi
Theresa
Beautiful the new Doyle drive
majestic with spectacular views
no more car accidents on windy curves
Manzanita, you were the only one
must we sacrifice ourselves for your beauty?
Did we not spend money on your welfare?
Did we not pick you up with the gentlest hands?
Tamed in the grove of untrees
driftwood
NOTE: Franciscan Manzanita, a species native to San Francisco,
had not been seen growing wild since 1947 until it was spotted
growing in the Presidio of San Francisco in October 2009. Caltrans
transplanted this specimen on 23 January 2010 to make way for
the Doyle Drive Replacement Project. Transplanting costs were
funded in part by Federal Highways Administration, Caltrans,
The Presidio of San Francisco, and private donors. Wikipedia
34
JJJ
JJJJJJJJJ
P O LAR BEARS
The polar bears have come down off the ice, now that
theres no more ice to be had. They wander through the
streets, gazing forlornly in shop windows; their cubs
play disconsolately in the parks. They monopolize the
swimming pools, submerging themselves for hours
at a time, watching the sunbathers and volleyball
enthusiasts with a quiet, unblinking stare.
Landlords dont like renting to them. Nothing personal,
they say, its just that theyre hell on the facilities. Fix
up the guestroom for your air-conditioning man
thats how much youll be seeing him. And theres the
smella fishy, walrus-blubber kind of thing thats
simply impossible to get out of the carpet and drapes.
But were doing our best to adjust to the situation.
Even the maulings have become routinewe barely
slow down to look anymore. Instead we stride on
by, eyes fixed on the horizon as a bear, its beautiful
white fur sticky and red with blood, hunches over the
convulsing body of some financial planner or software
engineer. Should you look into the animals face at
a moment like this, you will be met with a gaze of
sorrowful resignation. What did you think was
going to happen? it seems to ask. What did you
really expect?
35
PPP
PPPPPPPPPPP
UNDERTO W
The great whales, they say, once cavorted on land
their closest cousin, the dairy cow. But these
homesick bovines waddled back to the sea,
foreleg morphing to fin, hind leg to fluke.
And so this is the story of a sea creature, wrapped
in her own warmth, and how her heart grew
to the size of a small cathedral, so that when she sang
the notes became round and traveled in rings.
But first, this is the story of a cow, heavy
with barley and wheat, fed-up with gravity
and heat. About the call she barely heard
in the murmur of the sea, and how
her wobbly legs seemed to carry her
on their own, gingering down
over boulder and shale to the shore.
For a few glory days, she cooled her hooves
in the shallows and nibbled on seaweed, but the call
insisted from deeper down and away. So that one day
she strode into the breakers, great head lifted up,
37
38
JJJ
JJJJJJJJJJ
THE AD
VENTURES OF LA DOS
IN
C O ST C O L A N D IA
39
40
41
Javi e r Hu e rta
43
JJJ
JJJJJJJJJ
U K IY O
It has these really big balloons that help keep it in the
air. 25 balloons. Papa says this is because the floating
city is 25 square miles.
I dream of working on the balloons.
You never know where the floating city will be, because
it is at the mercy of the wind. Right now, though, it is
close to our little town, closer than it has ever been. It
is a tiny dot in the sky.
Papa says that I have to stay on the farm. He needs my
help. Papa says my dreams are impractical. Thats the
word he uses, impractical.
The floating city runs on steam. There are huge exhaust
pipes on the bottom of the city, the side that we can
see from the ground. The floating city releases steam
from these pipes. The steam is thick and dangerous
and burns things. Cattle, trees, people.
People say that if you are lucky enough to work on
the floating city, on the balloons or in the steam
rooms, that, after a while, you can stop working and
45
just live there. People who live there only do what they
want to do.
If the floating city is over where you live, everything
on the ground is in darkness. Because the city is so big
and its shadow so large and because it is so big that it
blocks out the sun.
Somebody from our town went to work on the floating
city, once. A long time ago, way before I was born,
people say that the floating city was over our town
and that Claude McGill went to work on the balloons.
The floating city might stay in one place for a week
or for a year. It just depends on the wind. If it stays
too long it can be very bad, because of the steam and
the darkness. One time, the floating city stayed in one
place for six months and everything on the ground died.
Papa says that these stories are just stories and that
nobody ever goes to work on the floating city. Papa
says it is time to milk the cows. Papa says Claude
McGill died. On the ground, Papa says.
Each day, the dot in the sky is getting bigger. The
floating city is moving and it looks like it is moving
towards us.
I am happy and each night I dream of balloons.
Papa is afraid.
46
MMMMMMMMM
DO YOU KNOW
T H E H U N TS M A N ?
In Lodi you can eat burgers among 314 taxidermied
animals. The portrait: Lonely visits lonely. I too was
once the wild hunt until a huntsman came upon
me and carved me out. Once considered interesting
enough to try to catch. Now everyone pretends that I
did not happen and anything that followed has been
denial. Everyone relieved. I still, waiting among crests
of cheetah pelvis and loin mane. Some of us sharpen
eye and antler. Everything connected to our bodies a
potential weapon.
47
BABYOURSORROW
After Mark Rydens painting Birth
Busy with the impending rue
you forgot to feed the knotted
bud. The only bulb that could emerge,
a weakened mandrake, not quite human
retreated rightly into what it knew best.
Burrowed in the dirt
never to be seen again.
48
IDEATION
Walk on the snail trail pass the coy and the failed.
Pick up snail by snail.
They mumble from a mucus covered membrane
Its best not to coddle
the kind of sunshine that comes from a bottle.
I think of Alice popping pills. Ache for that orange glow
the familiar cylinder. Vacant smile.
The sit & wait, the quiet bait
on medicine shelf. My head is a new exhibition,
jaws of old mold, synaptic, break crackle snap.
This is just one day in the park. Walk the rain,
wet brain, clean sink consider
whats left. The gunk
stuck at the bottom.
Some sad brain drain.
MK Ch ave z
49
JJJJJJJJJJJ
FI FT E E N
This is how you feel. This is how words start to feel
weightless. This is how you stare at someone on the
train in the morning. This is how you swallow anger
and this how you let it fill you and feel its thin fingers
around your wrists. This is how you stare at the wall
and make the insides of your body evaporate. This is
how you turn your memory off for seventeen minutes.
This is how you turn it back on.
This is how you feel. Youre a fifteen year old girl and
you steal your mothers old gray car and drive it to the
other side of the city in the middle of the night. You park
it on a street youve never been on, in a neighborhood
you have been told not to go to. You start to walk
and smoke a cigarette from a box youve been hiding
under your bed for 5 months. You dont really know
how to smoke cigarettes but you do it because it feels
dangerous and thats what youre looking for, danger.
The kind of danger that makes your stomach tight and
your fingernails dig into your palms.You think about
the fear of your mother finding out. You concentrate
on her not knowing where you are, how angry she
would be. The fear feels good.
51
52
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