The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.27.21

The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.27.21
"I am happy to have some friends here in the kitchen." Charles Olson ••• The Mad Gallery ••• Woods Behind the House ~ Tony Gentry To see all of Tony's mad pics, as well as our other former featured artists (over 50 in total), take a virtual stroll thru Mad Swirl’s Mad Gallery! ••• The Poetry Forum ••• This past week on[read more]

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 12.01.21

Mad Swirl Open Mic : 12.01.21
Join Mad Swirl this 1st Wednesday of December (aka 12.01.21) when we'll once again be doin' the open mic voodoo that we do do at our OC home, BARBARA'S PAVILLION! (and celebrating 17 year of open mic madness!) Starting at 7:30pm, hosts Johnny O & MH Clay will kick off these open mic’n Mad Swirl’n festivities[read more]

The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.20.21

The Best of Mad Swirl : 11.20.21
"Appreciation is a wonderful thing: It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well." Voltaire ••• The Mad Gallery ••• Rooted Mushroom ~ Tony Gentry To see all of Tony's mad pics, as well as our other former featured artists (over 50 in total), take a virtual stroll thru Mad Swirl’s Mad Gallery! ••• The Poetry Forum ••• This past[read more]

thinking of li po

sat on stone steps w/ cricket
under red august moon
other crickets singing
but this one moon-quiet
unlike my foolish head

– Rob Plath

Recently Published

The I Root: Pushing Everafter

since you didn’t ask and you didn’t
dare I want to tell you that
I think I
will be provoked I will be
a reflex a prorated nerve revised[read more]

Birds Eye View

sparks erupt
from the
dragging of
shredded medal

on the
asphalt street.
a birds
eye view

of an
impending fire.
the only
phone in

the hallway
is broken.
she sits
cross-legged

in panties,
on the
bed, eating
raw almonds.

she reaches
over to
crank up
the[read more]

A Brush with Something Crazy

A brush with something crazy
In the back of the barbershop
Some rice that did not cook up right
In the porcelain bowl

We could save the bowl by[read more]

THE THING.

THE THING.

For dad, and his wild heart. Once when we were children, our father kidnapped us from our mother to take us across the desert. His wood-paneled station wagon roared through El Paso, New Mexico, and Arizona. I played with my prize toy, an E.T. plush, in the back of that car under a white sheet. In school I had been called E.T. because of my long neck and big eyes and ears. My plushie made me feel like I at least had one other alien weirdo like myself to go through[read more]
The Crying Game

The Crying Game

I searched for something the least voguish. The location was an embassy though the occasion was only a job interview. London was in verdure with its tree-fringed roads. Sunrays multiplied in my eyes that beamed with joy - my first job interview since I graduated only three months ago. The interviewees hardly noticed my entrance into a very spacious room, each absorbed in one’s gigantic thoughts. Only a woman in her forties approached me and started explaining how important the teaching position was for her, being a breadwinner with three[read more]
In the Wilderness

In the Wilderness

I am the loudest animal on the planet, and the funniest looking, Annelise thought, as she trudged through the snow wearing footgear resembling tennis rackets. Over a long white puffy coat, she carried an ugly black- camera necklace. “How do I look, Mom?” she said out loud, looking to the sky. You look noisy, she heard in response, but she knew it was only in her own head, because her mother died a year ago, while Annalise was pregnant. “I wish you were here, Mom, to answer my questions.” As Annalise talked,[read more]