Announcements

The Soul Food of My Soul

by 2014 title holder Mike Bryant

You fell out of the pretty tree
and your face hit every branch on the way down
if creepiness was beauty
you'd be an evil clown

Like that one from Poltergeist
or Tim Curry in the movie "It"
What I'm trying to say here is,
you are the opposite of shit

Although the opposite of shit would be food
and you are not food
Even though you nourish my soul
The way food nourishes my body, which is good

So it's like you are food for my soul
You are my life's soul food
like grits or whatever
I've never tried grits

But they can't be as delicious as you
You are like a big ol' greasy hamburger
But without calories
OK, maybe some calories because with no calories I'd be buggered

What I'm saying is you are delicious
and you are healthy
but for real, not like commercials
where they say something is both delicious and healthy
but then you try it and it's not.

The History of Coaxial Cable

by F.J. Bergmann

It is a little-known fact that early in the morning
of science, an attempt was made to use frogs
to deliver electricity. The nickname “coax-ial,”
which stuck, given in homage to Aristophanes’
amphibious chorus: Βρεκεκεκὲξ κοὰξ κοάξ
After all the forays into galvanism, it was clear
that the tissue itself would allow the flow
of then-unknown electrons. Toads’ warty skins
made poor contact; tadpoles adhered better,
but frogs could grasp each others’ bodies
with their minute hands, forming an animate
daisy chain of flow, to coax the current along.

Evolution No. 9

by G.J.C. McKitrick

Well, I listen to the physicists
They study up the way things are
With radio electric telescopes
They watch the movements of the stars
Well, they measure up the galaxies
And read them like a code
They say several billion years ago
Something did explode

They say they’ve got the proof now
That God had got to go
Well, who banged the big bang baby?
That’s what I want to know.

Well, I listen to biologists
They study animals so well
They keep peeling back the layers
To see if they can tell
Just how life sort of happened
In some primordial stew
It started with the big bang
And ended with me and you

They say they’ve got the proof now
That God has got to go
Well, who banged the big bang baby?
That’s what I want to know.

Well, I listen to the atheists
They’ve got it all worked through
That God has never been here
There’s only me and you
We’re part of evolution
We’re part of the big explode
What blew up and where it came from
They don’t profess to know

They say they’ve got the proof now
That God had got to go
Well, who banged the big bang baby?
That’s what I want to know.

(untitled)

My poem it entered the fray
and should have won the day
but it was like a piece of broken glass
it tasted more of ass
and so I have to work for pay

by Colleen Anderson

Murderer

by Ben Peek

if you’d just written a monograph on the seven habits of highly effective butterflies I might love you.

if you just needed to find a press to bind it and print it in a limited edition of 300, I might sleep with you

but the Royal Society of Naturalists was ignoring your newfound scientific discoveries, and you did neither.

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