Review of David McLean’s Pushing Lemmings

Pushing Lemmings By David McLean Reviewed by Joseph M. Gant “my blessed devils” i hope the blessed devils and accursed bacteria that live in me scratch runes on my hollow sounding bones that the replete ghouls may read a lesson of profoundest negativity when they plow through the meat machine me and see nothing inside

Poetry Issue # 145

Poem titles that start with “and” have a lot to live up too, and the ones featured here do just fine. On a separate note. If you’re going to address the head poetry editor by first and last name in your submission, I guess it would be detrimental to not know his name, or to

Pushcart Nominations 2010

The votes are cast and the stamp is licked.  The best poems and stories on Gloom Cupboard for 2010 have been nominated.  Since 1976, the Pushcart Prize has been awarded to the best “poetry, short fiction, essays or literary whatnot”. Founded by such famous persons as Buckminster Fuller, Joyce Carol Oates, Ralph Ellison, and Gordon

Poetry #123

Poetry #123 brings you the voices of established and emerging writers. Ananya S. Guha, Alicia Hoffman, Michael Mc Aloran, April-May March, Laura Whelton, David McLean, Judith Fanny Rose, Sami Schalk and Mark Vogel have all made this great issue possible. I hope you all enjoy my first issue as Poetry Editor for Gloom Cupboard. for

#75

Aiko Harman Frog Dream In my dream, as you promised, We are hunting frogspawn I am surreptitious in a lake, With one lip above, And one below, The horizon of the water It’s very still, And I know nothing about frogspawn But imagine they do not breed in water Deep enough for me to be

#41

Sharmagne Leland-St. John I Said Coffee I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you like to cup my warm soft breasts in your un-calloused, long, tapered, ringless fingered hands?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you like to run your tongue along my neck just below my left ear-lobe?” I said coffee I didn’t

Out of the Cupboard #3

Presenting: David McLean Stockholm Stockholm feels sleepy today for the morning throws a cloak of sorrow and clouds over our night

#32

Lyn Lifshin NUREYEV he has a marvellous engine inside him, like a Rolls Royce. He’s a mixture of a tartar, a faun and a kind of lost urchin. In his final years he insisted on literally, excruciatingly, dying before our eyes, giving performances so ragged and inept audiences whistled , demanded refunds. He was ill,

#25

Stanley H. Barkan March It’s March but no winds blow. This trip I visited the Egadi not the Aeolian Isles. Besides, I made no request for the bagging of any kind of storm. And I’m no Odysseus anyway. Is it that the gods no longer determine or interfere with our doings? Our journey is our

#20

D. Garcia-Wahl Filmatic -for Jerry Tomlin “Well, I’ve wrestled with reality for 35 years, doctor, and I’m happy to state, I finally won out over it.” -Elwood P. Dowd “Harvey”