M.V. Montgomery writes surreal poetry and fiction, ideally at the same time. His books include Dream Koans, Antigravitas and Circle, Triangle,...read more Square - out from nap magazine in October 2011.
I invited Chang and Eng over for a barbeque. Big mistake. Those guys just sat around the kitchen by themselves, refusing to mingle with the other guests. Finally, I had had enough of this and really blew my top.
C’mon you guys, get out there and circulate! What’re you, joined at the hip or something?!
That one time I was a mad scientist, I took on a lab assistant. Which wasn’t easy―the evil glint in my eye, my mad ‘fro and crazy laugh, tended to turn away applicants.
Finally, one hapless fellow was desperate enough to come to the interview and tell me he could start right away. Being quite deranged, I couldn’t resist the opportunity for some sport.
So I kept him running around all evening with wires and electrodes and body parts and beakers. He was efficient enough for a first timer, but had one trait I just couldn’t stomach: he insisted upon keeping up a running commentary the whole time. This man’s chatter was boring me to tears!
Finally, when my irritation grew too great, I had him stand in a giant vat. Then I unloosed a mighty acid stream to melt him down.
Why? he asked, bewildered.
The steam coiled around us like an evil cloud.
You were part of the problem, I told him. Soon, you will be part of the solution.
mr. cease and mr. desist
Thank you, thank you, anyone who wasn’t just booing our fine karaoke performance. We will be signing off now!
What we most need, I feel, are better-shaped states. Imagine a glorious Delphina curling its foot into an Ocean of Clover, bordered by Norgeist, sleek as a fresh-laundered sheet, drifting its way up the rugged coastline! Several new HeartlandStates, Potsagon and Loafana, shaped like a good stout kettle and bread. And Surcusse, the first entirely round state, with its man-made borders circling the Sea of Wist.Iollalalilly, just a small snake of a state.Sparkling Jemmina, with its landlocked Lake Kite. And to the west, behold Gattoria, creeping along with its perfect bump-rippled back, or Ribbornia, the RainbowState, proclaiming its manifest Beauty!
tune out, turn off, unplug
by Henry David Throwpillow
We stack mundanity upon mundanity and consider our poor lives rich; we use ugly words like multitasking without realizing how ill-suited we are to become machines; we connect only to virtual spheres, missing out on the better part of life; and put the richest part of ourselves to sleep, failing to heed our dreams!
My neighbor Barry is losing his memory.
We were hanging out, per usual, on top of his driveway drinking brews. It was a lovely spring day. We’d both been out in our yards working. After I had finished trimming my hedges, Barry saw me and beckoned me over.
Soon we sat on two lawn chairs, admiring our work.
Suddenly we heard a squawking and a small flock of cranes flew over the corner of Barry’s roof.
Startled, he tried to recall the name of the cranes: Shoot, now lemme think. Was it red-bill? Something like that? Or sand...sandy…sam hill? Dammit!—I can’t focus!