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sparkle + blink 73
2016 Quiet Lightning
artwork Sarah Irvin
sarahirvinart.com
Would You Believe by Miriam Bird Greenberg
first appeared in Missouri Review
Signal to Noise by Robert Pesich first appeared in HillTromper
book design by j. brandon loberg
set in Absara
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CONTENTS
curated by
Sarah Irvin
5
Arizona
6
Graceland Cemetery,
Chicago, il
8
RYAN JOHNSON Fallon, nv
9
11
CLAIRE MARGINE
Butter Lamb
13
CASSANDRA DALLETT
19
23
BRIGID HUGHES
25
KIRIN KHAN
Only People
33
39
KRISTIN ACREDOLO
I Ask
41
CHRISTINE NO
Western Ave
45
REI JACKLER
51
DANNY SCUDERI
Dear AJ
55
SARAH HENRY
59
EMILY KIERNAN
Country Dirt
65
DORIAN MOFFEI
69
JASON BUCHHOLZ
71
ROBERT PESICH
Signal to Noise
79
ET
QU I
G IS SPONSOR
LIGHTNIN
ED B
Y
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
executive director
Chris Cole
managing director
Josey Lee
public relations
Meghan Thornton treasurer
Kelsey Schimmelman
secretary
Sarah Ciston
director of books
Katie Wheeler-Dubin
director of films
Laura Cern Melo
art director
Christine No
producer/assistant managing director
If you live in the Bay Area and are interested in
helpingon any levelplease send us a line:
e v an @ qui et light nin g . o rg
- SET 1 -
PPP
PPPPPPPPP
AUTH OR
I love how you do that, she said.
I was flossing my teeth at the time. I felt the warm
glow of her admiration. You know what that can do. I
got the idea I could teach her things, be the well from
which she might quench her thirst. Her long, shapely
leg rested on the rim of my bathtub. I thought to
myself, thats my bathtub, thats her leg.
What should we do now? she asked in a seductive
tone.
I could read you a section from my novel, I said,
immediately regretting it, immediately sensing how
such an answer turns your life to shit.
Whats it about? she said, the light going out of her
eyes, her leg leaving the rim of my bathtub. I plunged
ahead, thinking who knows what; that I might,
through well formulated self- expression, win back her
former good feelings for me.
Well it involves a young man, who shall we say
aspires to be other than he presently is, who wants
1
MM
MMMMMMMMMMM
S A -I - G U
Four-Two-Nine, 1992
Deep in the desiccation of Los Angeles lawns,
everythings been long half-bloomed.
A cigarette butt, a velvet breeze, now
begins the mid-air humming
of junked refrigerators out the backs of bodegas.
The thin red crime threads are cut,
the lawns gnarl in shadow:
oozing lemonheads glitter on the sidewalk
like the sweat of liquor money
that pools in Uncle Joos cash drawer.
I swab shelves of Soju and Goldschlager,
the Camel and chew, saved
behind this metal cage that lets only dust enter,
as a young brown boy drops a six-pack
of Miller High Life on Joos counter:
How much?
What do you mean how much?
For this man.
Im not selling you this.
3
RRR
RRRRRRRRR
FALLON, NV
alone at the saloon
cigarette smoke swirls
in wisps of cold light
I ask the bartender
does she have a room
to lie awake in all night
does she get gin
while the gray wool fog
is poisoned by the moon
Im just passing through I said
Im just like this smoke
breathe and Ill be gone
ARIZONA
fingertips on the neck of it
arm resting on the doorshell
I dont know where I dropped that flask
where head out the window I vomited
where it sprayed red as lust all down the interstate
I know my vision warbled as I drove
I know saguaros to lean away
I know coyotes to scatter
I know it was somewhere in Arizona
where a woman cut her wrists opening a pineapple
where the low sun took me in his jaws
and almost whispered me the reason why of
everything but for my body on his tongue
C
CC
CCCC
CCCCCCC
CC
F U C K F O R ST O R Y
10
BITCH BE COOL
The Trumping of America means no lives matter
means steal up the walls the fences the razor wire
shoot your neighbor especially brown
asleep in their car minding your business
stab brown berets with eagle beaks and talon
stick a flag up their ass for Christs sake
rotisserie
no apology rallies chant about guns guns guns
stew up of the masses water board or worse
call Indian people Isis awwww whats the difference
China, Mexico fuck em all build a wall
where the hell is Syria Iran Fuck that fucking Pakistan
Bomb the fuck out of the whole shit-uation
this is happening though its hard to believe when
the only news on TV comes from comedians
networks love this American Idol election
a more sinister Simon Cowell all cranked up
everyday orange face clown
and I quote
it doesnt matter what the media says
as long as you have a young beautiful piece of ass
Hair club for assholes calls us gold diggers
calls breast feeding disgusting
Hes going to sue you so
dont call him an orangutan
dont call him a liar
Cassandra Da lle t t
11
12
CC
CCCCCCCCCCCC
B U TT E R L A M B
Easter is for children and gluttons and ghosts. Aisles
bloom with chocolate bunnies in pastel foil. A busload
of Catholic school children fill the corner donut
store, buying dollar crullers with ash smeared on their
foreheads. Somewhere, someone elses son of God rises.
Polish Easter at my friend Laylas house is family style.
Linen and tweed, flushed bodies in good spring clothes,
painted walls suffused with sunlight. Strangers and
friends gather table-side; we tip back our heads and
slurp Buffalo vodka, full of sting and a wet smack of
grass.
Proper Polish, this spread. The hostess, Layla, luminous
kitchen minx, serves platters of hand rolled doughs,
stuffed and fried. Her feast makes the table groan
and bend its tired back. Platters of the seasons tender
vegetables, skinned and scrubbed and roasted alive.
Taut crackling skin and flesh basted with lemon juice
and rosemary. Even the butter appears sentient. Its a
traditional Polish Easter butter, delicately molded into
the shape of a lamb.
Together, we strangers scrape and saw, point and
13
15
Cla i re Ma rgi ne
17
PPP
PPPPPPPPP
DINNER
All the guests were couples. I was the lone single. I
told myself not to think of it as deeply symbolic. I told
myself it might have been a coincidence, or maybe an
act of compassion on the part of the couples. I told
myself it would be over soon, like life itself, it would
not go on forever. Even when I had been doubled, Id
felt single. I didnt understand why. When Id said to
my partner Cathy that I felt single, she said: Well
fuck off then, which kind of confirmed my feelings.
People say its good to have a partner who confirms
your feelings, but in that case it wasnt so good. The
host of the dinner party had not told me that it would
be a couples party so maybe he didnt see it that way.
Maybe he had an enlightened view, and saw it simply
as a people party, and by virtue of me being a person
I was includable. Its good to be includable but you
never know how long its going to last. And I still felt
like the sole exception to something, which detracted
from any momentary joy associated with feelings of
inclusion. I hate when I have a moment of joy and
then a thought comes along to detract from it. But it
always happens. I wondered if the coupled people
who sat around the table from me also felt, on
occasion at any rate, like sole exceptions of a sort
19
21
22
LLL
LLLLLLLLLL
C AT C H U P O V E R
D RINKS O R C O FF EE
Hey. Lets. You know? I understand you are coming to
me dogsleigh across ten thousand miles of tundra, and
I know this is different from what we discussed, but I
hope we can catch up over drinks or coffee.
Hi there! Thanks for the update note. Can I call
you? You had in your mind this vision of the two of
us floating over the city, cocooned in spun sugar and
stuck together at the crotch, but after giving it some
thought I would love it if we could instead just briefly
encounter one another in a crowded elevator at my
office. Seventh floor, one forty-three pm. Be there!
It will be great to hear how you have been! Hope
we can get to everything in the seven seconds I have
allotted our interaction. I know we discussed taking
a room at the five-star hotel for seventy-two hours of
bathing in draughts of each others joy and loss, but
it works better for me to spy you from an opposite
train platform and raise my hand in a wan gesture
of recognition, never entirely sure that its you at
whom I am waving. Cant wait to see you!
We had discussed you painting your name on
23
BBB
BBBBBBBBBB
C A GE FREE E G G S
The One Where Nagelberg and I Understand Each
Other on a Spiritual Level
Before going to my friend Nagelbergs place tonight,
I stopped by the Haight Street Whole Foods and
asked a white kid with dreadlocks who worked there
if they had any horchata. The clerk looked at my
mouth instead of my eyes as I talked, which made me
uncomfortable, and then he said, Hmmm, lets go
check the soy milk aisle, and I followed him.
I was a little nervous because I had just stolen a
kumquat from the kumquat display for Nagelberg
because, if you ask me, everyone should be surprised
with a freshly stolen organic kumquat from time to
time. In that same coat pocket I had also brought a
small scentless votive candle to give her. You never
know when the next big earthquake is going to hit,
and I hate to imagine my friends in the dark.
On the way, we walked by a wall of cage-free eggs,
which didnt make any sense. Presumably the
chickens are cage-freenot the eggs. I imagined
thousands of eggs walking around a large yard and
chuckled to myself.
25
27
29
31
32
KKKKKKKKKK
ONLY PEOPLE
When they lived in the brick rental house on Osprey
Lane, when she was four or five and just beginning to
differentiate her form from the rest of the world and
its inhabitants, Breshnas best friend in the whole wide
world was Katy. Katy was everything Breshna was
notslender limbs to her chubby frame, milky skin
to her walnut brown color, blond waves to Breshnas
oil slick of straight black hair. And most importantly,
at least, so it seemed to Breshna, green eyessheen
stargay, that treasured Pashtun feature, featured in
tribal songs of eternal love, eyes that cause madness
and lust and devotion for the ages. Yet somehow, by
some alignment of stars, Katy loved Breshna. They
played together every dayhiding their My Little
Ponies in the backyard to discover later, riding bikes
and pretending they were horses, dressing dolls
up and parading them through the doll town in
miniature convertibles to parties in doll mansions,
and playing house, or more specifically, Husband and
Wife. Husband and Wife involved the removal of
all clothingunderwear included. The two parties
would then lie in bed naked next to each other and
rub their bodies against each other. The individual
performing the role of Husband is expected to
33
35
36
Is it the men of your culture? Not all men are like that
you know. Oppressive. Backwards. Youre very lucky
to be in America; there are a lot of good men here, who
would let you work and wear shorts and you wouldnt
have to wear a headscarf. You could, ahem, have sex
with them, you know, erhm, without judgment. Men
are different here. He looks at her sympathetically.
Breshna feels her face flush with a brew of anger and
shame.
No, no, not like that, its not, I mean, theyre not like
that either, its justtheyre just different, is all. It feels
different. Thinking about men makes me tired. Really
tired. At least that much is true. She looks at the clock
behind his head and hopes thats enough to get her out
of there todaya little truth in exchange for a sanity
pass, at least for today.
Who else could there possibly be?
When women have been the focal point of attraction,
the ones she has always been closest to, the only
ones she was allowed to be alone with, sleep alone
with, the ones who whispered with blossoming rose
lips secrets into her blushing shell ear, the ones who
walked by and lingered in the swish of skirt or wave of
trailing dupatta. The ones she touched, who touched
her, before she knew what sex was, what attraction
was, when she only knew who made her feel safe and
who didnt, who was like her and who wasnt.
Ki ri n Kh an
37
38
HHH
HHHHHHHH
HOMAGE
My skirt unraveled as I wore it, leaving silver sequins
everywhere I went
a slug trail of beauty
an homage to my family.
Listen to the silences of my body.
Where does she wait to be held?
Its okay if words come slowly, a sentence an hour
This is how the world is put together.
39
- SET 2 -
KK
KK
KKKKKKKKKKK
I A SK
I ask but
no one can tell me
where Ive been.
Ive been living outside.
But no one can tell me
where Ive been.
I was chased away,
and my pursuers were many.
When I stopped running,
I was alone in the forest.
Yellow pine, beetle-dust,
needles and amber.
I slept; I awoke
by a small, cold river,
a river of water;
water the color
the color and keenness
of thousands of small cold knives.
I followed a crow, one branch to another, highcrying.
41
43
CCC
CCCCCCCCC
WESTERN AVE
Todd says the lights green and were not moving.
Todd says love is a cheap trick.
Todd says he loves The Germsbut wont play them on
our way to The Roxy. Todd says cause its lame.
Todd says he doesnt believe in boyfriend-girlfriend.
Todd says dont ruin it the experience.
Todd flicks my hand from the radio dial.
Todd flicks his Parliament out the window.
Todd calls Parliaments P. Funks.
Todd says noise is the shit.
Todd says Those People move hella slow.
Todd says the shits in the static.
Todd says something smells like fish.
Todd says its this street. Nah,
Todd says its Those People. Yea.
Todd says its their genes, pocket billfolds, thieves.
Todd addsgreen card, green card, passport. Dirt.
Todd says hes got license.
Todd saysflash em your tits.
Todd says they stare.
Todd says Im boring.
Todd saysand their eight kids; yardbirds.
Todd lights a P Funk.
Todd says punk rock is the noise.
45
46
RRRRRRRRRRR
Y O U T HI N K S H E IS
1.
Foster care is not the slut
You think she is
I know, I know...
Her skirts hiked high
Her heels bleed red
Shes a real bitch
Im not arguing with this!
Sure, Foster Care
Got funk, got gunk
Got shit, got splatter,
Foster Carell leave you
Naked on a platter, eaten,
All gone (The way
You ordered it) if you ask,
But Foster Care, shes no slut.
Shes just a Junkie
47
48
Re i Ja ck le r
49
So go on, try:
Keep up your slut shaming
While I stand pretty;
While I redo your tie;
Shudder as if youve discovered
Something might be bitter
In the meat of my thighs,
But dont mistake this
Foster Care kids aint the Sluts you think we is.
No glittery highs and sequined shoes,
No prancin, techno dancing. Not even
Booze. Just nothing left to
Taste, except
You.
50
MM
MM
MMMMMMMMMMMM
MM
W O U LD Y O U BELIE V E
Sometimes
Id lift my hand to the lip
look out over the volcanos rim, and there,
in a crevice, a scrap of paper, shining:
someones private prayer
or prophecy. Everybody held out
hope, tended their small hustle. Women knocked
on the door selling broken-heeled shoes, loquats
picked in an abandoned yard, would try the knob
if no one was home. Could I make change
for a twenty, asked someone, unfolding one
shed manufactured from a dollar bill.
Would you believe
what lengths I went to, to call myself
happy then?
Star of blood that blooms
beneath a bruised fingernail, star
of silence left high in the heart of a room
after the doors slammed. A couple sits, watching
one anothers reflections in a mirror. The two
talk like this as evening falls
around them, and neither has the heart
52
Mi ri a m Bi rd Gre e nbe rg
53
54
DDD
DDDDDDDDD
DEAR AJ
Youve been gone from this earth
Longer than you were ever on it.
The curtain call has been longer than the show itself,
And my heart has been clapping ever since
That day in June
When my dads black Cadillac turned the corner,
Slow with the weight of bad news,
And found me on the sidewalk walking with my mom.
I had just gotten a haircut.
Long on top, shaved underneath.
It was 1996.
So I felt the breeze on my neck
When he told me you died.
That your memorial mass would be on Monday.
He asked me if I was ok.
I think
I dont really know.
Its hard to process never again
When youre just 10.
When the only things that makes sense are
Super Nintendo Mortal Kombat tournaments,
Chicken fingers,
And laser tag.
55
57
58
SSSS
THROUG
SSSSSSS
H THE WIN D O W
Shes the only one that knows how cruel the blonde
boy on the bus was last winter when my parents got
busted for growing weed. I only figured it out myself
because I came home from school and the brand new
yellow generator was gone. I asked Mom where it went
and she said cops and nothing else. All the things we
were to lose as a family would be a slow unfolding
after that.
The blonde boy said he was going to tell everybody and
I turned away and looked out the window at the seam
of the horizon, where the forest met the grey hanging
clouds in the distance. My face was dark with heat, eyes
shining over bright in the glass reflection. I couldnt
face him until I could get pale and expressionless again.
If I turned around I would give us away.
Outside the dark bones of the trees staggered across
the hills beneath their pure white crowns of snow.
***
Hes in the grade below me this year so I dont have
to look at him too much except for when were in the
lunch line. He throws temper tantrums during PE that
scare me. His uncles name is Robbie and they live
on the property just up the way. Robbie hates us for
reasons Im not entirely sure of. I think it mostly has to
do with the weed stuff, but made worse by my moms
patchwork skirts and my dads long hair.
Sa ra h He nry
61
63
64
EEE
EEEEEEEEEE
C O U NTRY DIR T
The summer I was sixteen, I spent all the money Id
earned bagging groceries at a run-down supermarket
chain to buy a container of chilled horse semen. I lived
in Pennsylvania, and the big chestnut stallion with
the long neck and expressive eyes who was providing
the spooge lived in California, so this was a high-tech
endeavor. Modern shipping practices. Express rates.
The semen came in a big, silver tube full of liquid
nitrogen, like they store dead alien fetuses in on The
X-Files. The delivery had been timed to coincide with
the mares fertility cycle, and the vet was on call. This
method of impregnating horses is more turkey baster
than IVF and not particularly reliable, so I had already
worked out the number of hours I would spend
looking up produce codes and applying manufacturer
coupons if a second try were needed, but I was lucky.
Just as health class videos had warned me, it only took
one time.
Id been riding since kindergarten and thought I was
going to continue for the rest of my life. Summers
were spent cleaning stalls in exchange for lessons,
horse shows every weekend. We had two horses
my gelding, and a mare who mostly hung around the
65
Emi ly Ki e rnan
67
DD
DDDDDDDDDDD
B ET WEEN TW O D O G S
We cremated the dog today.
In its ashes, we found a mechanical
toy monkey with a cymbal in each
hand. The banging of its cymbals
was erratic, like heart palpitations.
We didnt skip a beat,
and got a new dog.
69
JJJ
JJJJJJJJJJJ
MY LIF
E I N 1 3 1/2 I N T E R A C T I O N S
W
73
75
Jason Bu ch h olz
77
RRR
RRRRRRRRRR
S I G N A L T O N O IS E
Stop Tata! Stop right here!, my son announces
as we return home from a long evening walk.
He walks to the edge of yet another garden
stretching out his arms
as if to hug someone invisible.
Hello Flowers! he announces.
With his face, he caresses calla lilies, lavender
even the dandelions blooming in the gutter.
He whispers to them. It takes some time,
a secret between him and the flowers.
When an understanding is reached, he stands up
and announces loud enough for the neighbors to hear,
Thank you Flowers! Good night!
Cmon Nikche, lets go home,
thats enough. I say, impatient, turning to go.
Shh! the response as we walk away.
What are they saying to you?
Shh! You talk too much. You are noise!
79
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