“There is always a delightful sense of movement, vibration and life.”

Theodore Robinson

••• The Mad Gallery •••

Burn Out – Bleak Teeth

To see all of Bleak Teeth’s gritty and creepy (yet oh so attractive) cast of characters, 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 Mad Swirl’s Poetry Forum… we found a spot with unplugged plot; we meanwhiles cloned from unusual bones; we twinkled far as a brighter star; we pleasured plenty on when we were twenty; we worried in part for a porous heart; we heard a mourner over empty corners; we murdered to keep in waters not deep. We splashed and spattered our mad matters on empty page; we write to last with hopes to pass a day or… an age. ~ MH Clay

A Sign Says No Dumping by Joseph Farley

In the mud and murk
Trout hide well
Along with turtles
And tadpoles.

A body however
Would be easier
To find
Unless chopped small.

A creek yay deep
Is better for concealing
The small and living
Than the big and dead.

Still, people try.
The water looks deeper
Than it is
And strangers
Who pull up in cars
With loaded trunks

Don’t realize
How many hooks
Probe the dark green
Of a summer day.

July 3, 2021

editors note: A plea for responsible recycling. – mh clay

HEART’S CRY by Vern Fein

Where does a heart go
when it cries out?
Does the heart hunt
for what makes it weep,
cry so hard it leaves home?

Search for a lost
spouse, child, pet,
roam the empty world
try to find what
will never be again.
Is finding nothing
the only solace
that can stop the tears
and bring us home?

At home, the rooms
look the same
but a stark absence
sits in every corner,
immovable until time
makes it disappear.

July 2, 2021

editors note: The missing thing leaves a permanent hole filled with time. – mh clay

Chronology by Sanjeev Sethi

Notwithstanding how shielded the heart is
at some stage
you realize it’s porous.
You’re human,
don’t hold this against yourself.
I’ve learned not to fall
at my wooer’s feet.

There are dignity and distance
in my demeanor.
But this organ with four chambers
has its own score to settle.
It propels me on a path
that isn’t under my superintendence.
This is the worrisome part.

July 1, 2021

editors note: And it’s impossible to hold at arm’s length. (Congrats to Sanjeev on the release of his new collection, “Bleb.” You can find it here.) – mh clay

Still Twenty. by Dennis Moriarty

When we get together I am twenty years
Old again and laughing.
We are sat in an Irish pub on North End
Road drinking
Pints of strong lager and cheap Whiskey
Chasers
Our eyes propped open by the braless girls
Who had shoehorned
Their bodies into tight-fitting fabrics.
The come ons, the chat ups,
Slap downs and put downs so cruel then,
So funny now.
And the old boy alone in a corner of the bar
Searching for adventure
In a half-consumed pint of Guinness.
Neither you nor I
Imagining that he might be our mirror image
In years to come.
And as the night grew old and the music louder
The whole pub sang along,
Proud and drunk, to the words of Molly Malone,
The Fields of Athenry.
And the old boy tapped the table with yellow
Drum stick fingers
Playing with a smile on the foaming lips of
A tepid pint.
And now here we are together again, drinking
Good wine and a fine single malt,
forty years later and I am still twenty years old
And laughing.

June 30, 2021

editors note: Turning our twenties to twenty-turned again. – mh clay

Starstruck by Sarah Karowski

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art ~ John Keats

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
were I as far away and dying? Were I you, star,
would my wavering starlight inspire nursery
rhymes? Oh star, if only I were lightyears gone,
leave onlookers starstruck, disappear by morn—
Bright star, how doth thou be so aloof and cool?
How can I twinkle when I’m less starshine,
more starburst—the red flavor, the one no one likes.
Less Eremite, more Jezebel, less pure than you, star.
You’d never let these bastards break your heart, no, you’d
supernova the shit out of them, vaporize to stardust.
I’m stuck sipping Starbucks and crying about capitalism.
Could I learn to be like you, starling in training, but
I’m stuck stargazing, dreaming of upward swing.

June 29, 2021

editors note: Make that a mocha supernova with no room for cream. – mh clay

meanwhile by Brendan McBreen

the grapes
were bursting
on the vine

meanwhile

I got up
to stretch
and broke
two fingers
in the fan

meanwhile

Italy invaded Pakistan
but they agreed
to pause the war
during the World Cup

meanwhile

a dog was digging up
unusual bones
I didn’t know
were underneath my garden

meanwhile

the two Saints
agreed to split a Sunday

meanwhile

it grew dark out
and cold

June 28, 2021

editors note: How to maximize your meanwhiles. – mh clay

Railyards and YouTube plotlines by Tom Pescatore

they coalesce

in the monitor rays – the plot unplugged

a pine cone lodged in our throat – burnt open by canned heat – blue lubricant
expelled for lonely hours
ozone stench of mucous membrane

sounds of laughter wafting thru headphoned doorways

paused by unresponsive fingerprints

June 27, 2021

editors note: Still, we try to discern rail from tube. – mh clay

••• Short Stories •••

Here’s what Short Story Editor Tyler Malone has to say about this pick’o the week:

“(DIE)T. Yeah, that’s the key word.”

Here’s a few bites to satiate that hunger:

(photo “Pizza Party” by Tyler Malone)

•••••••

The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin’ on… now… now… NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the mad conversations going on in Mad Swirl’s World? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We’ll be here bein’…

Delighted,

Johnny O
Chief Editor

MH Clay
Poetry Editor

Tyler Malone
Short Story Editor

Madelyn Olson
Visual Editor

Mike Fiorito
Associate Editor