Who says there aint no cure for the summertime blues? Robert Slentz-Kesler, Matt Bender, Jefferson Navicky and Denver Hill are testosterone run amuck. Chen Chapman’s estrogen infused rebuttal. Meanwhile, mckenzee speaks with gods. Oh, and The Dream Journal. T h e B l o t t e r MAGAZINE JUNE 2007

FREE IN ASHEVILLE, ATHENS, ATLANTA, BOISE, CHAPEL HILL, CHARLOTTE, DURHAM, HILLSBOROUGH, NEW YORK CITY, AND RALEIGH

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Impetuous. Homeric.

G. M. Somers...... Editor-in-Chief Have you been out to our website lately? I think it’s getting Martin K. Smith...... Publisher-at- pretty groovy. We’re going to be putting some bits out there that Large, Treasurer aren’t in our paper version, so go on out there and take a look. Matthew Boyd...... Micro-fiction Editor Lewis Copulsky...... Publishing Today at pre-school I overheard the story of the immaculate Consultant conception distilled into a very understandable format. My daughter Brace Boone III...... Director of and a friend were eating lunch and with peanut butter sandwich Development breath chanted, “Mary and God, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” As good an answer as any. Advertisers and Subscriptions Contact: Martin K. Smith Someone (Mom, probably) mentioned that I should make [email protected] sure that The Blotter is trademarked. Oh, really? I asked. I think it 919.286.7760 already is. (Actually I have no idea.) But is it a registered trade-mark? Or just a trade-mark? The little voices in my head: Devil - Well now, you don’t know, do you? And what is the differ- Submissions and Editorial Business to: ence between registered and plain? Still don’t know? You’re pathetic. Jenny Haniver Angel - Isn’t trade-marking the opposite of cool? The antithesis of [email protected] satire? Steve McQueen will think we’re idiots! We’ll be thrown out of the International Cool and Clever Magazines Association (ICCMA) Press Releases are Intrepidly Ignored! I still have no idea. But perhaps trade-marking really is the opposite of the opposite of cool. Like it’s so totally lame that it loops Cover art: Larry Holderfield’s block around like some kid on a swing set after too much Mountain Dew. print of The Saga of Cthulhu cover. Or like Mountain Dew itself, for that matter. Well, for now if I hap- See centerfold for more. pen to start putting registered trade mark symbols next to things, please hit me with the aluminum bat. Yes, the thirty-two ouncer Garrison Somers, Editor-in-Chief right over there. [email protected] 919.933.4720 (business hours only! you may call for information about On a different baseball note, Dad tells a story about taking a snail-mail submissions) day off (from what he cannot say) and going to see a baseball game with his younger brother Dick (remember him in the January issue?) All content copyright 2007 by the and a mutual friend. Uncle Dick had yet to join the Air Force, which artist, not the magazine. he did just before the finish of the Korean conflict. Uncle Dick, Dad and their friend, Bob who happened to be the nephew of Horace The Blotter is a production of Stoneham, took a train into New York City and hopped the subway The Blotter Magazine, Inc., north. Objective: Polo Grounds. A home game. But not for my Durham, NC. Dad’s team. You see, Horace Stoneham was the owner of the Giants. A 501 (c)3 non-profit Dad and Uncle Dick were rabid Dodgers fans, and the “Jints”, as they ISSN 1549-0351 called them, were the collective enemy. Their buddy Bob understood www.blotterrag.com this, in a good-natured way. So when the three young men entered the stadium it was my Dad’s plan to heckle them from hell to break- fast. Almost immediately the plan unraveled. They made their way to the owner’s box seats, behind the Giants dugout. Spartan accom- modations by the standards of today’s luxury boxes, but still not too bad at all, Dad recalls, because it was a sunny day and they were at a ball game. They weren’t alone, either. Dad sat back, looked over, only to find that sitting next to him was the actress Larraine Day and the very familiar face of Spencer Tracy. Which made sense, Dad www.blotterrag.com June 2007

thought, as Miss Day was married to Leo Durocher, the Giants’ man- ager, and Spencer Tracy was apparently a friend. We often use Bobco fonts, copyrighted “What happened next?” I always ask Dad. shareware from the Church of the Leo the Lip, old Durocher himself toddled over to the Subgenius. Prabob. We also use dugout, smiling at his wife, waving at Bob, and shaking hands with Mary Jane Antique and other free- Spencer Tracy. Then Uncle Dick’s friend introduced them to ware fonts from Apostrophic Labs Durocher and everyone shook hands with everyone else. and other fonts from other sources. “You shook Spencer Tracy’s hand?” He always nods. But that’s not the big thing, for Durocher waved over some of the play- ers. “Folks, this is Willie Mays,” Durocher said. A young man shook hands with Dad and the others. “You shook Willie Mays’ hand?” I’m incredulous. He remembers being impressed by the enthusiastic Giant, already a famous for his bat and glove. Other players came over to be intro- duced to the famous actor and the Boss’s nephew, and the pretty actress married to their manager. “Do you remember which players?” I ask. He certainly can. But what lies herein is the magic failing of memory. I too can name many Giant players from the early 1950’s. They remained big The Blotter Magazine, Inc. (again, a names even when I was a boy in the mid-sixties, but they were the 501(c)3 non-profit) is published in the true heroes of a generation of kids prior to my childhood. And any first half of each month and enjoys a free biography of Mays spoke as well of the exploits of Monte Irvin, circulation throughout the Southeast and Bobby Thompson, Whitey Lockman. So Dad cannot be sure which some other places, too. Submissions are names are players that he recalls from the moments of that remark- always welcome, as are ad inquiries. able afternoon and which are drawn from common baseball knowl- edge. Does he remember what team opposed the “Jints” that day? Subscriptions are offered as a premium What year was it? What was the weather the day before, or after? for a donation of $20 or more. Send check or money order, name and address Was it spring or summer? Did it occur before or after The Shot to The Blotter Subscriptions, 1010 Hale Heard ‘Round the World? Who won? He cannot say with certain- Street, Durham, NC 27705. Back issues ty. What he does know is that he stopped hating the Giants that day, are also available, 5 for $5. Inquire re his Dodger blue blood changing like the Grinch’s heart after hearing same by e-mail: [email protected]. all the Who’s in Whoville sing.

So I offer this up as a mystery to you readers. Everything I have told you is a fact related to me by Dad. Use this information, your skills of intuition and the Internet to tell me what game they saw, who won, and what year it was. The first person to supply this s information, and their supporting evidence, will win a year’s sub- scription from me, and the everlasting thanks of my family. CAUTION The Blotter may contain certain Good Luck. words or ideas that offend. I don’t know why, when there are so many real offenses taking place in the Garry - [email protected] world, but still people take the time and expend the energy being offended by free thought and speech. But, as K.V. told us, “so it goes.”

page 3 The B l o t t e r “Three Slices”; an excerpt from the novel fruit bins. “Sylvia, Rachel, Meredith, Anna” Gerard studied the plates on the ledge. by Robert Slentz-Kesler “Grab one and go, Private The platoon lurched like a slow “I thought you were a squad Kelderman,” yelled Womack. assembly line through the glass leader, Libby,” said Womack. “You “This isn’t a four-star restaurant.” doors and into the dining hall. should be leading by example.” Gerard took a plate with a lump One by one each soldier grabbed a “Yes, Dill Sergeant.” Libby’s tray of biscuit smothered by gray sauce. tray and a large spoon before side- flipped up off the rail and his He moved through the line and sat stepping along the triple-railed spoon flew across the room. at a long table in the mess hall. metal ledge in front of the serving “Airborne!” yelled Romberg. “Sit on the edge of your chair, area. The drill sergeants material- “Romberg, shut up,” said and sit up straight,” yelled ized and broke the silence. Hammer. Hammer. “Move it, men,” said Drill “Private Libby, how did that “Eat up, ladies, we have training Sergeant Hammer. “We ain’t got happen?” Womack said. to get to,” Womack said. all day. Grab a plate and move.” “My hand slipped, Drill “What the fuck is this?” “You better side-step, Libby,” Sergeant,” said Libby. Hammer said. yelled Drill Sergeant Womack. “You’re uncoordinated, aren’t Each man put his spoon down “And keep that head looking you, Libby?” said Womack. and looked at Drill Sergeant straight forward.” “No, I mean, yes, Drill Hammer. Libby straightened his spine and Sergeant.” “Keep eating!” screamed tucked his chin. “What’s your favorite fruit juice, Womack. “He didn’t tell you to Libby?” said Womack. stop.” “I don’t know, Drill Sergeant.” “Private Parker, what’s that on “It doesn’t matter anyway, your plate?” Hammer said. because you won’t be getting any Parker sat up straight. today.” “Breakfast, Drill Sergeant.” “No, Drill Sergeant.” “Is that bread, Parker?” “Grab that plate and move out.” “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” Libby snatched the plate of eggs, “How many pieces, Parker?” potatoes, and bacon from the ledge said Hammer. above the serving line and side- “Three, Drill Sergeant.” stepped along toward the toast and “What? Three?” Hammer said.

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“Drill Sergeant Womack, this pri- you, Parker?” said Hammer. but Romberg stuffed the bread vate has three pieces of bread.” “You screwed up, didn’t you, into his mouth. “Parker, you must be special,” Kelderman?” Womack said. Parker sat back down. “I’ll kill Womack said. “Yes, Drill Sergeant!” chimed you, asshole.” “You tell me why everybody else Parker and Gerard. Romberg chewed. only gets two pieces of bread, “What are you going to do now, “Problem solved,” said Parker,” said Hammer. Private Kelderman?” said Womack. Snodgrass. “Who’s your squad leader?” said “I—I don’t know, Drill Gerard looked at Parker. “You Drill Sergeant Womack. Sergeant.” got me in trouble.” “Private Kelderman, Drill “Tell you what,” said Womack. Parker snarled. “Tough shit.” Sergeant.” “When Drill Sergeant Hammer “I’m the squad leader, and you’re “Kelderman!” said Womack. and I come back here in thirty sec- supposed to do what I say,” said Gerard choked down a dry knot onds, this problem had better be Gerard. of biscuit. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” fixed.” Parker threw a fist across the “Why does Private Parker have “Yes, Drill Sergeant,” said table and punched Gerard in the three pieces of bread?” Gerard. jaw. Gerard’s chair tilted back and “I don’t know, Drill Sergeant.” The drill sergeants walked away he fell on the floor with a crash. “You said you’d been to college, from the table. “Yes!” yelled Romberg. “The Kelderman. I thought you were “Get rid of it, Parker,” said knockout punch.” Romberg smart,” Womack said. “Private Gerard. sprang up from the table, unbut- Parker is in your squad. It’s your “Fuck you, man.” toned his camouflage shirt, pulled duty to inform him of the rules “Eat it,” said Berkowicz. off his undershirt, and ran circles here.” “Quick.” around the mess hall tables. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” “Don’t do it, man,” Snodgrass The drill sergeants rushed over. “So inform him.” said. “They’ll know.” Once again every soldier in the Gerard looked across the table at “You’re some fucking platoon mess hall stopped eating to watch. Parker. “Private Parker, you’re only guide,” said Berkowicz. “Romberg, sit your ass down.” allowed two pieces of bread.” “Fuck off,” said Snodgrass. Drill Sergeant Hammer ran after “You mean you didn’t know “Get rid of it, Parker,” Gerard him. that, Parker?” said Hammer. said. Womack stood over Gerard. “Yes, Drill Sergeant, I did Romberg reached across the “Private Kelderman, why are you know,” Parker said. table and grabbed the bread. lying on the floor?” “Then you fucked up, didn’t Parker lunged at Romberg’s hand, Gerard stood up and groaned.

page 5 The B l o t t e r He held his hand against his jaw. “You’re in charge. You’re responsi- Wiley, eat faster.” He glanced at Parker. Parker ble for every swinging Richard in “Hey, fuck you, man.” looked down at his tray and started your squad.” Womack slammed his hands shoveling his face with scrambled Romberg jumped down from onto the table. “Private Wiley, you eggs. the table and raised his stocky arms don’t speak to the mess hall moti- “I fell, Drill Sergeant,” Gerard with clenched fists. “Yes!” vator that way. Are you volunteer- said. Hammer picked up Romberg’s ing for the job?” Womack looked at Gerard’s jaw, shirt and threw it at him. “Put on “No, Drill Sergeant.” then at Parker, then back at your shirt, Private. You’re comin’ “Then shut up and eat,” said Gerard. with me.” Womack. “Well get back up.” Womack “Eat your chow, Kelderman,” Private Cooper leisurely chewed pointed at Parker’s tray. “I see our said Womack. “I’ll deal with you his breakfast. His calm presence little bread problem is solved.” later. Private Carroll, why are you and equanimity had days ago “Yes, Drill Sergeant,” said just sitting there?” earned him a New Age nickname: Gerard. “I’m done, Drill Sergeant.” Private Yanni. “Knockout punch!” Romberg “Good God, Carroll. We’ve only “Carroll, Private Yanni is not sprinted among the tables. “Rock been in the mess hall for two sec- eating fast enough. I want you to and roll!” onds, and you’re finished eating.” motivate him.” “But there’s another problem, “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” “Eat faster, Cooper!” Kelderman.” “You’re a human vacuum clean- “Get over there close to him, “What, Drill Sergeant?” er, aren’t you Carroll?” Carroll,” said Womack. “He can’t “Pull your head out, “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” hear you.” Kelderman,” Womack said. “Isn’t “Is that why you’re such a fatty?” Carroll leaned over the table. Romberg in your squad?” said Womack. “Eat, Cooper, eat.” “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” Cooper ate evenly, slowly chew- “Did you tell him to throw off “Since you’re so good at eating, I ing his hash browns. his shirt and run around the mess think you should be the mess hall “Louder, Carroll.” hall like a Victory Drive stripper?” motivator,” said Womack. “Do “Faster, Cooper!” Womack said. you know what that is?” “He can’t hear you,” said Romberg jumped up onto a “No, Drill Sergeant,” Carroll Womack. table and tiptoed among the trays. said. “Eat faster, Cooper!” “No, Drill Sergeant.” “That means you get to make The clicking and clatter of “He’s doing a table dance, everybody else eat faster,” said spoons at the table quickened, but Kelderman, and you’re his squad Womack. “Stand up. It’s your job Cooper kept his own pace. leader,” Womack said. “How do to motivate your platoon mates to “Yanni, sometimes I feel like you explain this?” scarf and barf. Go to it, Carroll.” we’re not getting through to you,” “I can’t control him, Drill Carroll looked around and then said Womack. “Are we getting Sergeant.” looked back at Drill Sergeant through to you, Private Yanni?” “Why not, Kelderman?” said Womack. Cooper stopped eating and sat Womack. “Aren’t you the leader?” “Let’s go Carroll. Tell them to straight. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” “I’m not a leader, Drill eat faster.” “Are you meditating after each Sergeant.” “Eat faster!” yelled Carroll. bite, Yanni?” “Yes you are.” “That’s it,” said Womack. “Now “No, Drill Sergeant.” “I didn’t ask to be a leader,” said walk around and make sure they “Is this food healthy enough for Gerard. can hear you.” you?” “Doesn’t matter,” Womack said. “Eat faster! Come on, let’s move. “Yes, Drill Sergeant,” Cooper www.blotterrag.com June 2007 said. “Get into formation,” said The Dream “Do you wish we served granola Snodgrass. “Squad leaders, make Journal and wheat grass, Yanni?” sure everybody’s here.” real dreams, real weird “No, Drill Sergeant.” Gerard’s squad—Fourth “You’re a soldier now, Yanni, so Squad—was lined up in the back Please send excerpts from your own dream journals.. If nothing eat like one,” Womack said. row. He counted fourteen, includ- else, we’d love to read them. We “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” ing himself. won’t publish your whole name. “Chow’s over, Third Platoon,” “Put that apple away, Carroll,” [email protected] said Womack. “Move out!” said Wiley. “No food outside the Before going to school, when at my Chairs scraped the floor. The mess hall.” friend’s house my friend’s mother platoon stood up and moved “Someone has food?” said made me a sandwitch for lunch toward the exit. Snodgrass. after we had breakfast. I had no money and I thought of asking the “Squad leaders, make sure your “Carroll smuggled an apple out mother to lend me some in case the people put their trays on the belt,” of the mess hall,” Wiley said. sandwitch was not enought for me, said Womack. “Push in your chair, “Gonna fuck the whole pla- but it did not feel right to me. Libby.” toon,” Parker said. As we were walking downtown on The soldiers shoved out the “Get rid of it, Carroll,” said our way to school, a crazy car which looked like heist(a limo that doors of the mess hall. Snodgrass. transported dead bodies.) It was a “Platoon Guide, I want a forma- “I’m still hungry,” Carroll said. scary business skeam for a money tion back in the company area,” “It’s in my pocket.” lending business. said Womack. “They’ll notice.” Wiley pointed. My friend and myself were sitting “Yes, Drill Sergeant,” said “I can see it from here.” in the vehical for a few hours until Snodgrass. “Move it, men.” “Idiot,” said Libby. the driver of the parked car showed up, since I felt desperate. A stampede of combat boots “You take it.” Carroll tossed it to shuffled out the door and down Libby. I them saw yellow brick walls made out of stone, as we came to our des- the long breezeway to the company Libby lobbed it to Snodgrass. tination. The driver was not the area. Snodgrass pitched it back to owner of the company just a butler. “Form up, men,” said Carroll. Carroll threw it to Gerard. The owner looked like a vampire but claimed he was not, but did say Snodgrass. “Quick. Romberg, Drill Sergeant Womack walked he did have people in his family where have you been? You’re all around the corner. “Kelderman!” who were on the strange side. wet.” “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” He live in a midnight blue home Romberg gasped. “Drill ser- “Get out here.” built about 90 years ago which was geant—smoked—me.” Gerard shoved the apple into in due for a painting. He sat me in a room facing a wooded area in the attick(top floor) and gave me a glass of tea with a drug to make me sedated. I was very comfortable and did not want to leave, but my friend pres- sured me to. We did not realize that we were there a whole day.

C.S. - Cyberspace

page 7 Cdulhuvida

In icy waters off Vinland’s shore, mighty Thor goes fishing.

‘Let there be fog And let there be phantoms Weird marvels To baffle your hunters.’

-Njal’s Saga, trs. Magnus Magnusson & Hermann Palsson, 1960

www.blotterrag.com Section One

After my studies at Miskatonic University in Arkham, I spent a summer researching First Nations’ literature at Saint John’s University in Newfoundland. I was interested in the leg- ends of the Beothuck Indians, a tribe that had died out early in the previous century.

Saint John’s Library possessed the papers and books of John Peyton, Magistrate of Twillingate, who had captured and kept the last surviving Beothuck, who he called Mary March. After Mary’s death, Magistrate Peyton had collected all accounts of the Beothucks that he could find.

It was there, moldering in the archives, that I found a dissenting account of Thor’s battle with the Midgard Serpent, differing in significant details from the Prose Edda of Snorri Sturlason.

The original was in Icelandic, with some terminology in ancient Greek and an unknown language. My translation follows.

(to be continued...) page 9 The B l o t t e r the right cargo pocket of his cam- Kelderman, are you still hungry?” “Too slow. Get down.” ouflage pants and ran forward. “No, Drill Sergeant,” Gerard Gerard leaned over. Saliva coat- “Get in the front-leaning rest moaned. ed the walls of his mouth an position, Kelderman,” said “Kelderman, is this the mess instant before the thick, knobby Womack. hall?” sauce rushed up his esophagus and Gerard got down into push-up “No, Drill Sergeant.” forced chunks of biscuit out onto position. “Then why do you have food?” the concrete floor. He was on his “Snodgrass, you get down too.” said Womack. hands and knees, facing the pla- Snodgrass dropped to the con- “I—it wasn’t—” Gerard looked toon, pitching forward and heav- crete. up at the platoon. Carroll’s eyes ing out his entire breakfast. “Private Romberg is having a lit- were wide. “Private Kelderman, why are tle trouble adjusting to military “Snodgrass, get into formation,” you barfing in my company area?” life,” said Womack. “Kelderman, Womack said. Womack said. you’re his squad leader. Snodgrass, Snodgrass jumped up and ran to Gerard wiped the goop from his you’re the platoon guide. When the back. lips and stood up. Romberg has one of his little “Push-ups, Kelderman, move. “Get into the latrine and clean episodes, I’m holding you respon- Stop. Get up. Run in place.” yourself up, Kelderman,” said sible. It might cure him. Let’s start Gerard ran. The fatty biscuit Womack. “Third Platoon, you with push-ups.” bounced in his gut. Sweat rolled have ten minutes to get up there “One Drill Sergeant, two Drill off his bald head, down his face, and clean the barracks before we Sergeant.” and onto his shirt. move out for training. Platoon Gerard’s arms had no trouble “Faster, Kelderman, move. Stop. Guide, get out here and make sure with the push-ups, but the half- Get down.” this puke gets cleaned up.” chewed food in his stomach felt Gerard slowly leaned down. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” like a clot of lead. “Too slow. Get up. Run in “Fall out!” “Okay, stand up,” said Womack. place.” “Now run in place.” Gerard ran, but only the heels of Gerard and Snodgrass ran in his heavy boots would lift off the place, facing the platoon. floor. He felt dizzy. His head E “Stop. Get down and do push- burned hot. ups until I tell you to stop.” They dropped down and started pumping. “Stop,” said Womack. “Get up. Run in place.” They stood up and ran. “Stop. Get down. Push-ups.” Gerard leaned down. The apple rolled out of his pocket. Fifty- seven silent heads watched the apple bounce across the floor before bumping into Drill Sergeant Womack’s spit-shined left boot. Womack looked down at the apple and then at Gerard. “Private www.blotterrag.com June 2007

cookie dough? How about the last “Stoplight” time you went to the bathroom & by Matt Bender ended up shooting an arc of piss over 30 degrees to the left of where I. Annelise was my first love. From Later, i found out that she you were aiming? the first time I picked her up, owned a pet rat, as did i, and that it would have been much easier to “Dicks will lead you astray.” i never simply let our rats hang out & play wanted to put her down. whilst the 2 of us talked about “They’ll lead YOU astray just whatever 6th graders talked about because you can’t stop thinking Considerate, sweet, comfort- in the early 90’s. I much much about it. How’s your rat?” able like when you pulled her laced later found out that she made rat panties down around her ankle and noises while fucking, {squeak.} She “Fine. She died 14 years ago. you were greeted with the smell of was always fun like that. How’s yours?” your favorite slice of pizza. The day she lay dying, she “Same.” Stoplight, she would say. feigned sleep as her loved ones wept by her bedside. Had she And she swung off again to find i had asked her out first in the another chance, she would have herself a new hole in the piercing 6th grade, after asking my mother’s told the never-ending parrot joke palace, i beside her because i was advice on how to ask a girl out. (i.e. a man wants his parrot to talk young and smitten with a girl who “my family & i are going out to a and gets talked into spending would pay to have a hole put movie, i said, Would you like to thousands of dollars on vitamins, through her septum simply so that come.” I had no chance. I was 6th massages, and vocal steroids to no she could hang some offensive grade spell-bounded by her beauty, avail) in a wheezy breath, clutching piece of metal there. her clothes that dangled from her the collar of a nurse or someone shoulders as if she were nothing nearby. She only had one chance at Since she has died, i have been but a hangar frame of skin & cord, death, however. In that aspect she hiring out crews in Nairobi. They with chicken tits and a hard stom- was not unique. are mining for pieces of Annelise ach underneath. her small eyes an that may be smelted and then dis- umlaut over the U of her mouth. Now, through the passing tilled to renew her. I walk amongst smoke of the No. 6 bus, I see her the workers’ dark faces, bent and swinging her arms erratically, near- hunched over the holes they are ly bludgeoning the people she digging beside mounds of turned passes on her way to Diamond over earth. Love is two earthworms Altered Image Dietrich’s Nose Piercing Palace. Hair Designers, Inc. wriggling in this dirt, or a picture “Hey, hey, bender,” she says, seeing 1113 1/2 Broad St of our planet taken from outer Durham, NC 27705 me, “still writing about women?” space. (919) 286-3732 “No, Annelise. I’ve renounced Love smells like earth, like CREATIVE women, or, my dick, anyway. mushrooms, i think, and hope that Never trust a dick.” i will not have to die & rot before METALSMITHS i can find it again. Don H. Johnson | Kim Maitland Remember being 17 and want- 117 E. Franklin St., Chapel Hill ing to fuck so bad, but when you 919-967-2037 creativemetalsmiths.com II. Fragments of Annelise. pulled it out you were as limp as Closed Mondays. What i have of her anyway. page 11 The B l o t t e r

to me, still, than life itself. Call it a ii. *Zombie Lips: that smooch and young crush, however, i am young suck at the air due to some primi- as is everything i do because of it. you are young like the young girl- tive instinct she has rediscovered. friends of Richard Brautigan Why must our reanimated always Often, like a teenager: act like this? posing in the backgrounds of pic- mis(p)laced. tures *Half a head of Hair: that hangs from whichever side i like. i. on the porch steps

*The left ventricle of her Heart: you are absent like mirrored shards of whichever farmhouse he had that i have had sex with on numer- in space lived in while writing his latest ous occasions, as it pumps by some book. supernatural power and makes me reflecting nothing & sometimes feel closer to her. And as it seemed my own face Rhyming couplets wherein he to me, being in a long distance talked of other, younger women. relationship, that any girl with in my dreams you are a marble or a whom you had love would love Rat some people should not be allowed you and care and if you just hap- to be themselves. pened to see her once every week that i thumb through wooden (or month) and pull out in time mazes iii. and wake up with her on the fol- lowing day of that week just pick- towards the things i long to hear i see why he took pictures, howev- led in love’s juices and she would you say. er, say i love you and you would say i love you too and each not really iv. as i sometimes forget what you knowing anything go back home look like. for whoever knows how long how You are young like the Buddha was could you really ask for anything young v. more? when he jumped from his mother’s i give small pieces to other people. *Her Declarations of affection: womb full-grown. In varied forms. These mean more III. The chicken hot dog that ruined it all.

Annelise was a vegetarian. I got hungry often. One night, i ordered a chicken hot dog from a chicken hot dog vendor and she never spoke to me again. &

www.blotterrag.com June 2007 out to the dead people, who are “Three dated 12/04/06” you? You must be the dead authors by Jefferson Navicky we were speaking about, I say. No, they answer, don’t be a dumb-ass; Two Are Delicious So wide. we’re the dead people of the build- ing. Most of us are illiterate, they Your legs roll. They move so fast Dead Tree Intimate all say in unison, Garcia’s never and are vice strong. They smell read a book in his whole life. A good like hands. I’m a gentle man The woman next to me, dressed in short Puerto Rican man with a until I get a whiff of your legs, a tight charcoal suit, does not look quick smile nods his head and says, their stretch and girth and tangled in my direction as we ride down in it’s true, when I was alive, I never sublimity. They are much more the elevator. But she does not have read no books, I just raised my fierce than blue jays; if your legs to. I know she is a traveling book pigeons on the roof until I got were imaginary beings, they would saleswoman and in her slim brief- prostate cancer and died because I be hippogriffs with golden beaks, case is hundreds of samples, like didn’t want to go to no doctor. huge feathered wings, and large carpet, of the world’s finest litera- The dead people lounging in the feet with sharp talons. Fierce, but ture. She is older than me and I maple tree are having a very enjoy- soft and chunky. I like to grab can feel the composed nature of able time, relaxed like each branch your legs and sleep on them. her jaw line, the purpose of her is a hammock. Won’t you come sandy blond hair. She must sell a join us, Garcia asks me. No, not Toothpaste lot of Tolstoy. She must do well for today, I respond, I’ve got things to herself, I think as we talk in her do, I want to paint a shelf and put When she leaves, she steals my loft, each with a glass of gin, talk- it up next to my desk. Garcia nods toothpaste cap. Without its cap, ing about the books we know. a knowing smile like the elevator my toothpaste oozes its fennel- How precocious. How delicious. operator who smiles when some- white goop onto the inside of the How intimately religious. As I one insists on taking the stairs to medicine cabinet. She has left her speak, the woman says the word the seventh floor. As I leave the toothbrush standing erect in the ‘yes’ in the most judiciously spar- bathroom, I forget where I am or holder above the sink, as if to say, I ing sense of the word, as if no other who the woman is sitting on the give you my toothbrush but you word can stand alongside it. She couch with such an attractive brief will have no toothpaste left with has a fire hydrant mouth and I case. Small white things float which to brush your teeth. She have to go to the bathroom to cool around the edge of my vision; I am says to me, please brush your teeth, down. While sitting on the closed convinced they are teeth. Are you love, I want you to take care of toilet seat, I stare out the six-inch okay, the strange woman asks. I your teeth, but I want you to get wide window into the courtyard begin to make my tree sound, some new toothpaste; your old where a lone maple tree stands. I which is very different from my toothpaste doesn’t work. It is too could tell that this tree had sur- good book sound. I make this old and stale and smells like your vived a fire in the building, an sound with my mouth closed, my mother and father. Now all my amazing zest for life considering lips vibrating like leaves in a sud- toothpaste is gone. It has oozed half the apartments must have den gust of wind. out like pus. I pick up her tooth- been ruined, ash spread every- brush, run water over its bristles, where in the courtyard like cancer- P and begin to brush my teeth. As I ous snow. As I gaze at the maple, I do so, my teeth smile and my gums notice there are dead people on smile and my mouth smiles and almost every branch of the tree. my face smiles and my head smiles. What are you doing there? I call

page 13 The B l o t t e r “ad agency pitch to lawn pesticide :::House lights cued. CEO” :::House music cued. by Denver Hill :::You pretend you don’t see us. :::What have you done? gins. Get this, they are vibrat- ing virgins. We rewind this :::Executive calls cut/print. :::Why do you feel guilty? part to watch several times. The agency firm slap on ass THIS WILL SELL you’re given :::Thanks ma, thanks to grams :::My daddy left me. My the house, the hummer, the and nanna, my agent, the war, mommy hate me. She gained wife the life. Your wife rabbit the shoe companies. 100 pounds when he left. I fucks you. She put kid to bed squirting mayonnaise on a sticks her country club tongue :::Somewhere overseas your kindergartner’s face. Everyone in your anus, a worm penetrat- neighbor or cousin plants a flag in the cafeteria is chortling. ing a fallen apple. Top thread in the desert and says “My Plastic forks in plastic bags. count designer sheets dirtied. country now.” When she cries I cry more. My Don’t worry, honey say with You nod nervously. mommy and the girl. insouciant crowing, we can buy MORE we can buy ANY- :::A hospital white baby with :::Striped cat stares. Clean it THING. Life is good. anaplastic lungs doesn’t cry. up goddamit! No one wants to Asthmatic, choking on last see ugly awkward boys. Shut :::You pretend you don’t see us. drop of water, smiles does not up baby! Spoiled brat. Clean cry. The perfect human being. yourself up! Looking at it in I the bathroom WEAK a striped :::Cut to blurred ballerina, cat stares I’m scrawny so weak swirling symphonic sounds, so stupid SHUT UP SHUT obscure orchestral arrangement. UP take the weeds out of your Thanks for making us laugh. family. Thanks for not taking life so seriously. Fishes, amphibians, :::Dramatic close-up: squelched reptiles, birds, and mammals mole cricket, desiccated chinch are target audience. Nude chil- bug. (More symphony drums) dren bathed in a glimmering A camera pans left to green coat of petroleum, a glimmer- yard, sprinklers pump like ing skin setting themselves on choking snakes. Balding father fire... They only smile or laugh loses sex drive. Savvy owner of there is no martyrdom. They green grass whats the secret are pure. They will never be wink. Buy new car, he buy corrupt adults. They are vir- new clothes and drink bottle water. He still look at things he can’t have. Different suits he could have worn in the world women he could have romanced. www.blotterrag.com June 2007

Remarks of an Anonymous, Wretched Woman by Chen Chapman

All ‘round, a sad and hollow scraping The quill, dulled rasp set to dullest blade A murder of blackest cawing makes From purest, living whiteness of empty page CONTRIBUTORS:

What, then, for yon lamp-blacked stain “mckenzee” - Larry Holderfield: But to scritch away with bitter thorn Cdulhuvida, the new pulp epic from mckenzee, will be serialized over the next several issues. It can also be Here and there reveal the once-pale plane found online at http://cthulhuvida.updownstudios.com. Rumor has it that there will eventually be shirts and a Now sullied ‘neath murkiest shadow of scorn minicomic available. His “Sinister Bedfellows” comic appears semi-regularly in these pages, as well as online at http://mckenzee.comicgenesis.com. We’ve printed Scritch on and more, tho ‘tis in vain some poetry by him also. Holderfield has traveled the world, taking photos, writing bad poetry and falling in To bring the virgin back to rest love. He now combines these interests in his web- Here clean, and sweet and white again comics. For but once so shamed, always palimpsest. Robert Slentz-Kesler: It’s a long story how Bob and I began corresponding over a submission and I told him what I was looking for and he said what he might have so then he changed the submission altogeth- er and we talked some more about names and places and I learned about his website, www.thatcherforest.com, and I found out how Bob’s from Durham but I didn’t know if he meant North Carolina or England until he told me that his book would be available at indies like The Regulator and Quail Ridge, but it’s a good story.

Matt Bender is one of the folks in the stable of occasional/regular contributors to The Blotter and that, my friends, is a very good thing for an editor to have. Thanks B.

Jefferson Navicky lives in Portland, Maine and his chapbook “Map of the Second Person” is avail- able from Black Lodge Press and his other, “The Gatherer”, from pulpbits.com. He runs the Vermillion Reading & Performance Series in Portland and he ate spicy carrot ginger soup for dinner last night. And all I got was a rock.

Denver Hill is the manager of the Colony Theatre in Raleigh and has a piece in the upcoming issue of 20 Dissidents - http://20dissidents.com. He is also one of the old gang and we appreciate his continuing to toss bits over the wall to us.

Chen Chapman says she is a Graphic Artist currently waylaid by tendon injury and surgery. No, Chen. Trust us. You are a Poet. Grotto at the Eno River - Chen Chapman

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