The Best of Mad Swirl : 06.25.16

The Best of Mad Swirl : 06.25.16
“Do whatever you do intensely.” ~ Robert Henri ••• The Mad Gallery ••• “To Everyone” (above) by featured artist Fabrice Poussin. Allow us to introduce you to Mad Swirl’s newest featured artist, Fabrice Poussin! Fabrice’s photos exudes quite a dreamy noir vibe. Utilizing shade (like the frail detailed limbs of a tree dancing along the shutters of a building,[read more]

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 07.06.16

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 07.06.16
Join Mad Swirl & Swirve this 1st Wednesday of July (aka 07.06.16) at 8:00 SHARP as we continue to swirl up our mic madness at our mad mic-ness home, Dallas’ badass The Underpass Bar! This month we will be featuring Dallas Poet & Artist & all around mad man, Ta2! Wanna know more about Ta2? Here's[read more]

New Featured Artist : Fabrice Poussin

New Featured Artist : Fabrice Poussin
(featured image: Reflection of a Lost Sun) Allow us to introduce you to Mad Swirl’s newest featured artist, Fabrice Poussin! Fabrice’s photos exudes quite a dreamy noir vibe. Utilizing shade (like the frail detailed limbs of a tree dancing along the shutters of a building, being my personal favorite), Poussin captures light in a unique way,[read more]

Thimble

We are becoming smaller again.
The soul of a mouse,
hiding inside the walls of this house.
Time doesn’t matter
and time isn’t waiting.
Time simply turns to water.
It’s wasting us down
dripping carving watering
waiting in a basement.
And so the wasting begins.
All around us thin and waning,
shouldering cobwebs shuddering.
Shrinking, scratching for crumbs
or a thimble of water.
Hiding from the light stretching
behind the walls of this house.
Squeezing into a hole smaller.
Inventing tiny dreams
that could fit into a matchbox bed.

– D.A. Moulton

Recently Published

STATIC

A friend called long distance stoned in Maynooth.
Said she was rooked. Said the air felt hacked from a wall.
An owl, if it was an owl,[read more]

Satellites

The tree frogs called the rain last night,
but the rain did not answer.
The intermittent croaking, about
every hour or so, was followed by
a gust of wind[read more]

Death of a Lonesome Cowboy

Come hurt me
With your stinging rope of an attitude

Stripping me down
Watching your turquoise tattoo dance

In front of a curtainless window to the world
Your sexy smile[read more]

The Train to Discomfort

The Train to Discomfort

David McConnell didn’t realize how tense he’d been until the train left German soil and entered Austria. In a few hours he’d be in Vienna and he and Julia would shop for a cleric. He let out a sigh and looked up from his week-old edition of the London Times. Sitting across from him was a large man with a thick white mustache and a probing stare. “Would you like to see yesterday’s news?” he said. He offered the folded paper to his fellow traveler. “The political cartoons are well drawn.” “And,[read more]
Love That Moon: A Poem in Three Parts

Love That Moon: A Poem in Three Parts

One: Jefferson We sat on the front porch, the whole lot of us, the Washington family, knowing that yes our folk of all different hues of brown, were born of the first father of our country, our country too. Granny, born of a young slave girl, had nearly died today, fell down once again, not good for much, she was one-hundred-something but who was counting? “Take me Lord” she would pray with her toothless mouth that still loved to sing “Let My People Go” and to sip homemade hooch. We done a right good load of hay baling, said brother Jim, pointing[read more]
Boredom

Boredom

In the evening my phone rang. Nobody had called me for ages. I thought that all the people I ever knew had died already. It was so boring. And suddenly it turned out an old friend remembered me. I have not seen him for a thousand years. Since he had gone into business, we parted ways. Here, all of a sudden, he invites me to visit him. I was shocked. Why, for fuck sake? Okay, I agreed to come. Frankly speaking, I was sick and tired to sit at home doing[read more]