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Carlin's Apartment
By Donald Hubbard
QuailBellMagazine.com
George Carlin had a funny routine
celebrating the supremacy of baseball over football The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Oh, Sanity
By Donald Hubbard
QuailBellMagazine.com
We avoided psychiatrists in Hale, Connecticut in the 1960’s, figuring a few things, that if you did not go to one, you were not ill. Also, they were thought to be mad scientists or hippies and they probably charged too much, and were seemingly illogically, Communists. Though as assistant town librarian Mabel Swing once observed of Floyd Danielson, “a few visits couldn’t hurt.”
Floyd noticeably regressed each year during the Hale County Fair, a coalition of cotton candy, coronary occluding fries and chintzy rides. Generally the townspeople regarded Floyd as an eccentric, a harmless town coot who drank alone and spent much of each day blubbering or watching soap operas on television. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
4 Free Things You Can Do Right Now!
By Gretchen Gales
QuailBellMagazine.com
With an unpredictable economy, you might be wondering how you can live on a budget. But you’re human and still want to have fun! Going to clubs and amusement parks cost money, so here are some suggestions for good, clean and FREE fun!
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De Nihilo Nihil
By Sean Everett
QuailBellMagazine.com
Fairy tales with grim and tragic endings
seldom fail to disappoint, nor do they venture a crossing, The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Aya and The Worms
I’m sorry for the dullness of the knife he cut you with.
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Snow and Wine
By Dmitry Wild
QuailBellMagazine.com
Smooth sailing, wishes, desires
Endlessly wandering soul finds a home This year we will follow the roads to the city This time we will see the headless riders on the seas of creation. No Alienation! The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
El Niño’s Tears
Wildflowers,
Cinquefoil and Gold-Fields, Grow in the dry streambed-- The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Nightlight
By Phoebe Reeves Murray
QuailBellMagazine.com
Warm light floated into the dark room as the nursery door whispered open. Sleet cracked against the windowpanes. “Listen, baby, it sounds like tiny bullets.” Mommy kissed the baby and laid him down in his crib. The baby stared at the snow shadows slithering down the glass, at the thundersnow lighting up shifting black shapes. “My little baby, you are so new, so innocent. You don’t know anything yet. I’ll tell you a bedtime story.” She hopped a bunny plushie near the baby. “Once there were two rabbits…now there are millions of them. The End.” The baby whimpered. Mommy picked him up and put him to her breast. He nursed. “Shh, shh,” she said, swaying. “Don’t be afraid of the dark, my baby, remember what it was like living in the dark inside me?” The baby grew warm and sleepy. Mommy laid him back in his crib and went back to the party.
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Bathing
By James E. Hall
QuailBellMagazine.com
Gently
over glistening flesh, one hand guides a cleansing sponge The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Revolution
Editor's Note: This poem first appeared in the Karma issue of Ealain in December 2015.
Round and round, the grinning, gaudy horses galloping round and round on the merry go round. Round and round, but the grins are faded now and the once bright horses drab and disheveled staggering and lurching. |