Saturday, April 30, 2011

Brag and Boast!

If you completed the Writers' Challenge or at least gave it a solid effort, CONGRATULATIONS!  Comment on this thread and tell us all about the process: how you did it, what you learned, and whether it's something you'd try again.

And don't forget: if you're in or near Flagstaff, the wrap-up reading is at 7PM tonight at the Kickstand Kafe.  Hope to see you there!

Final Featured Selection: "Wisdom No Longer Comes with Age" by Lidia Francese

wisdom no longer comes with age
by lidia francese

last night, a dream
almost held my hand,
grass-stains on my knees
consuming themselves
i couldn’t be
under a swing set
because there wasn’t one.
have come to find her

and dark, under a bridge
she had eyes like two turntables,
the voice of a wobbling solo
under my hands
she had a neck already noosed,
she had forgotten how to cry.
wasn’t done with her.

dragging a dead-weight body,
couldn’t hold my hand
she was beating
on doors
i didn’t know how to open
my mind.
will never be done with her.

and from the bottom up
never looks like the top down,
hands on the wheel
riding around
the radio staying on
turned to static,
no reception
at her wedding.
wish i could scratch those eyes
one more time.

the dj to the band:
play all their songs 
in reverse order
and maybe he will 
hold her hand,
firsts come last—
ly i would like to say
have yet to start with her.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Featured Selection for 4/24: Iris Jamahl Dunkle's "The Ring"

The Ring
By Iris Jamahl Dunkle

The story was a tattered ring by the time I found it—
Grandma hadn’t yet lost the smooth edges of memory
a garnet stone surrounded by a small crown of tiny pearls
with it she paid passage from the poverty of dust
to the poverty of tending children alone.

But still she passed the tattered words.
They blew out of her mouth
like hot garnet coals
lighting the air in red threads—
Fix it. She’d say. Tell it right. And tonight she blew out the coals.

Writers' Challenge Wrap-Up!

For those of you in the Flagstaff area, Thin Air is pleased to announce that we will be holding an open-mic reading event to wrap up the challenge. Bring what you've written through the month, share something, and meet your fellow Challenge participants.

The reading will be Saturday, April 30, 7:00 - 9:00 PM at the KickStand Kafe in Flagstaff at 719 N. Humphreys.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Featured Selection for 4/23/11

To Die at Coachella (flash prose) by Kimberly Cawthon

Near Death, I felt the crowd push, pull and stick to me like a suffocating winter coat. The noise, the screams.

"Duran Duran. Really?" some idiot shouted

"The Strokes. Really?" another retorted.

I looked at Tim as the fear fell over his face, a look of dread, of powerlessness. The was no more air. A lady is groped next to me.

"Asshole!" her boyfriend shouts.

She looks to me to stop the hand fondling her chest. I look up the patch of open sky and try to breathe. No one will help me. I'm too far from the barrier to be rescued. They'll find me here--crushed, breathless, small and huddled.

I find a man's shoulders. I grab them and hold on like a train caboose. We worm our way through sweat, perfume, sun screen and cigarette smoke. Tight like an intestine, a fisherman's knot, pressed bodies joined like the balls of an abacus.

I bust out, gasping, eyes dripping tears.

What fools we are, what fools crush each other to huddle around sound. I could have died.

It's not like they would have wrote a song in my honor, planted a tree in my name. They would be no policies, barriers, safety enforcements. I would have been a squeezed tube of tooth paste, a tragic fan story and the show would go on, the bass would thump and bump and bounce against my face like a wall of fuzz.

I shouldn't have panicked. I should've stared them down, those fools with their hazy eyes. I should of said 'fuck' and 'move.' I should have screamed.