Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Volume I. Issue VI.

November 15, 2011 
The Ides of March Journal

November 15, 1533:
Cuzco, the capital city
of the Inca Empire,
is conquered by Francisco Pizarro.

Featured In This Issue:

Bri Angleton-Stannish
    ---"Mayan Calendar"
    ---"Within the Trojan Horse"
Stephen Faraday
    ---"Nameless History"
    ---"Einstein's Folly"
    ---"Proof (of Holocaust)"
Harold Guth
    ---"Lascaux, France"
    ---"World War Family"
Nathan Hinote
Kofi Kufuor
    ---"Anansi's Slaves"
Catelynn Lancaster
Mike Miller  
    ---"St. Patrick"
Janet Prince
    ---"General Tom Thumb"
Mark Young
    ---"Norman the Linguist"
    ---"Zeus' Sex Life"


---Bri Angleton-Stannish

Blood-kiss on divine
flesh, a rose in winter; wilt
beneath damning stars.


"Mayan Calendar"
---Bri Angleton-Stannish

When 2012 comes,
their long-count will roll back years;
Earth begins anew.


"Within the Trojan Horse"
---Bri Angleton-Stannish

 Belly-crouchers, dark
children grasping knives, blood-borne
to Priam's old heart.


"Nameless History"
---Stephen Faraday

My friend died
the Veteran's Day before last.
His name is not written
in books, is not known
by schoolchildren. But his deeds--
turtle-crawling on Normandy's beaches,
punching an enemy soldier senseless with a fist
of rolled quarters, clutching his bleeding leg
with his right hand while firing a gun with his left--
are preserved in the memories of those who know,
and in the dried ink
of 1945's newspaper headlines.


"Einstein's Folly"
--Stephen Faraday

Einstein's head was full of wonders;
incredulous equations to gaze upon.
But I bet he wondered, every now and then,
if he should've kept the secret of the atom.


"Proof (of Holocaust)"

Photographs...Black, Gray
Jutting Bones Vacant Eyes Think!
the horror of colors.


"Lascaux, France"
---Harold Guth

Chalk-stone spirits. Alien
crude hunters from archaic
hand. Chasing
ancient hoofed flesh long petrified. Running
nowhere on ageless walls.


"World War Family"
---Harold Guth

Wilhelm, George, and Nicholas
of Germany, England, and Russia.
World leaders of common descent
from Queen Victoria.
Flung their pawns, plunged
countries into hell-war
with trenches, gas,
cannons, flames--
so much for family values.


---Nathan Hinote

Old men anchored here know the town wasn't named
after the sound of the horn in a Ford Model T, but
they would tell you otherwise because they are
the same ones steering south for the festival
of antique cars steeped up Newport Hill,
remembering that Cayuga means
"the place of taking out,"
an Iroquois port term,
an exit, an escape.


"Anansi's Slaves"
---Kofi Kufuor

Ashanti Anansi,
the Spider-Trickster of yore,
was brought to America on slave ships,
and the Africans spun his lore.
From the grassland forests of Ghana
old Anansi spread his spore
to the arid cotton fields of Georgia.
Wily web-weaver, yet his people wore
shackles and chains, their legs bound
with the brands of slaves--so sore!--
so maybe it was Anansi, see,
who tricked America into civil war
and set his story-spinners free.


---Catelynn Lancaster

99942 Apophis swoops through space,
a gargantuan mass of primordial rock.
It blurs, in 2029, the gasses
of Earth's atmosphere, just enough,
just enough to turn
this rock into the demon
for which it was named.


"St. Patrick" 
---Mike Miller 

To Crom Cruach the old ones would stammer 
till Saint Patrick corrected their grammar; 
"This worship is odd-- 
there is only one God!" 
Then he smashed in Crom's face with a hammer.


"General Tom Thumb"
---Janet Prince

The mightiest soldier of them all--
mocking Napoleon, haranguing the bears
and lions, piping his shrill gall,
a spectacle for the years.
And him only a circus man,
hardly three feet tall!


"Norman the Linguist"
---Mark Young

Norman the Conqueror,
in 1066,
took his army to England
and kicked some ass.
He took French culture
to Hastings and beyond--
which is why we have words
like "competition" and "garage."


"Zeus' Sex Life"
---Mark Young

I begot Perseus as gilded rain
flowing into Danae's low-sunk dungeon.
As a bull, I horned Europa across the sea just as easily
as I flew into Leda's startled arms, my feathers
blinding her to all else.
I covered Io's flesh in the cloud of my beard,
hiding my prize
from her
who should, by rights, know me best
but whose love, I admit, I've come to detest.


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