Letters to The Editor

Various,

Liberty & Her Many Problems, by Harold Knatt

He was raining, and I think rain is stupid, and when he rained all of his stupid poored right out of him and went on my shoes which pissed me off. I love to hate things, sunbeams of hate burned my face until it blistered and my cheekbones began to smoke. I love being burned by fire except when the clay dries, then I'm just stuck and I feel so trapped I could implode his rain used to keep me wet and slippery. When I was younger, I enjoyed making small duckling sculptures but after some time there quacks turned to cracks. Step on a crack, break your momma's back. My mother is the statue of liberty. And that's why I hate the Statue of liberty.

I Wish I Was Not A Smelly Robot, by Sarah Chatham

The robot is smelly. And I don't care if he can recite the alphabet backwards, my nose is 8000 times more sensitive than a rabbit's. My nose is so big it blocks out my eyes and all I "see" is carrots, clouds of orange folding over each other. I hop around eating carrots and kicking random insects I find beautiful. I think insects are the greatest invention. I think I could make a greater invention than God did, but I wouldn't dare. God is 8 feet tall and wears a yellow toga. He told me "I love you, it's not easy for me to say that." I said "Aw, shucks, I can't really be in love with anybody right now."

Patriotism And One-Wheeled Vehicles, by Alonzo Tottman

I don't like unicycles. They are ruining America. Good thing this isn't America, is it though? What does "American"mean? Fuck telephone poles. Fuck light posts. Hey don't say that about light posts! My cousin was a light post. I'm so sorry but I hate your cousin then. I am my cousin. I am your cousin. I am I. That's why I hate my name and everything it represents. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! God bless America.

Untitled, by Anonymous

I left my womb at Coachella. She was talking about energy healing, and all of my tomorrows with tea parties and playdates got up and dipped in the lake naked. It was then the womb laid its eyes on a half-human-half-donkey. It had three eyes, all bright blue and electric. They told me, "you're not heavy enough" so I started gulping air. The air smells like sweet kettle corn and organic pussy. I stood in line and waited to hear my name called. I knew it would never be called.

"Not enough, not enough, not anything."

Oh well I still have my phantom womb.

If Only An Orphan, If Only A Nostril, If Only...

There are shadowy figures coming in and out of the library, they all pretend to be orphans. We all know that they are secretly 43 year old men or old greasy Grandmas. What is going on?! How are we getting all this grease on all these old Fucks! Like that nut Dumbledore (who is my dad!) I was born out of his left nostril. It was tight. Who was born out of the right nostril?? It's me. Dumbledorothy. They call me "father" and I don't like when they say it.

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