The Best of Mad Swirl : 09.18.21
••• The Mad Gallery •••
Mad Swirl is excited to introduce an incredible artist to our Mad Gallery, Thomas Riesner, who paints his strange and spooky work all the way from Leipzig, Germany. His work, though initially a bit unsettling, is still nice to look at – with an interesting combination of intentional lines and squiggles against[read more]
New Featured Artist : Thomas Riesner
Mad Swirl is excited to introduce an incredible artist to our Mad Gallery, Thomas Riesner, who paints his strange and spooky work all the way from Leipzig, Germany. His work, though initially a bit unsettling, is still nice to look at – with an interesting combination of intentional lines and squiggles against watercolored seemingly free-formed[read more]
Rest In Poetry Paul Sexton
Last week we learned that the poetry world lost a near & dear Mad Swirler, Paul Sexton. The shock of his passing is still reverberating and has yet to fully sink in. The brevity of knowing we will no longer hear Paul's signature voice, emoting his pain, his anger, his joy, his rawness thru his[read more]
Shucks Among Aging Partners
“Shucks! You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t. I have no idea who sent ‘em.”
“Jeepers! You really don’t care anymore.”
“Of course, I do. I keep putting down the toilet lid.”
“Gee, Willikers! That’s only been forty years in coming.”
“Well, you still fart in your sleep.”
“Son of a biscuit, how would you know?”
“Haven’t been sleeping too well.”
“Sweet Patootie! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Most times, you don’t give a flying fig.”
“Not true. I care! I really care!”
“Balderdash! You took away my ice cream and my sandwich cookies.”
“I’d like you to live a little longer, for heaven’s[read more]
Where Harry's Buried
As the two women approached the cemetery, June said, "Hey, this sign here says No Trespassing, No Digging, No Rubbers. It looks like, around here, rubbers are banned from cemeteries."
“I know lots of guys who’ve left rubbers in cemeteries. Don’t worry about it.” Janette said.
Looking at her, June said, "I'm pretty sure that’s not what the sign means."
Unfazed, Janette responded, "Well, it might. I’ve spent a lot of time with guys in cemeteries.” Changing subjects, she continued, “Look, we'd better hurry, be careful and don’t fall. You brought the folding shovel,[read more]
Omen
Bizarre!
The dream woke him up with a start.
Such a dream will wake up any guy!
A shudder passed through him.
Dead of night—the howl of a stray dog added to the uneasiness. Was it a premonition? The Grim Reaper stared malevolently; neon sign lit up the urgent message on the billboard, at the interstate highway, his car waiting at the traffic signal, in New Delhi’s tri-junction at the Connaught Place:
Last one hour left! Hurry up, before it is too late!
The stockbroker felt an eerie sensation, a chill. Such a portent in dreamy[read more]