Fertility
The wedding feast was spread outside a place of worship, its altar freshly anointed by sacrifice. The dying mother rocked the lifeless bride. The guests sprawled among the shattered tables, indistinguishable from the meat.
Now it is time for Earth’s feast. It opens its mouths—some freshly dug, some ragged trenches—to reaffirm the perfect circle of nature: the dead fertilize the world, nourishing bumper crops of hate.
The Only Music
This is the great music, the important music, the only music. After this, all other music is merely dead tissue.
It is the conductor, and only the conductor, who chooses the players on stage and the listeners in the audience.
There are no instruments. Instruments create divergence and error.
The conductor stands at the podium, facing the players. Each of the players stands beside a radio, each turned to a different radio station—classical, jazz, country, Top 40, R&B, golden oldies, rap and hip-hop, all-talk. Especially all-talk.
At various times during the performance, the conductor will point to a player. That player must immediately turn on his or her radio, and must immediately turn it off when the conductor points again.
The conductor controls which radios are playing at any given time. Sometimes there will be one, sometimes some or most, sometimes all, sometimes none. The point is the random pattern of silence and cacophony that is the true representation of the world. Above all, it precludes all thought or action. The world is what it is, and cannot be changed in any way.
If a player does not act immediately when the conductor points, the conductor will pull out a gun and shoot the player in the head.
The conductor will also shoot any listener who laughs, boos, coughs, or interrupts the performance in any way.
Sometimes the conductor gives guns to the players and listeners and leads them outside the theater, where they are instructed to shoot all those who were not invited to the performance. Snipers are positioned strategically to shoot any player or listener who tries to shoot the conductor.
At the end of the performance, which comes entirely at the discretion of the conductor, the players and listeners will give the conductor a standing ovation. The snipers stand ready to shoot the first one who stops applauding.
This is the only music. It supersedes all other music and precludes the development of other music. It is not to be critiqued or questioned. It is forever.
Laszlo Toth
Eating the Ears Off a Chocolate Bunny
The ears are surprisingly solid atop the dumb-bunny hollow head. This is a time for nibbling, savoring, caressing the tips with teeth and tongue, letting them crumble to creamy dust. You work your way down slowly, rejoicing in the stately pace of sweetness.
What used to be prolonging pleasure is now necessity. You stop at the base of the skull, knowing you may have gone too far already. It’s not like the old days, when you had the luxury of choice to savor or gorge, knowing no harm could come to you, knowing there would always be more chocolate, more Easters.
Miles David Moore founded the IOTA poetry reading series and hosted it from 1994 until its end in 2017. Since 2006 he has been film reviewer for the online arts magazine Scene4. From 2002 to 2009 he was a board member of the Word Works. His latest book of poetry, Man on Terrace with Wine, was published by Kelsay Books in October 2020.