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sparkle + blink 64
2015 Quiet Lightning
artwork Megan Reed
meganreed.net
Nessun Dorma by Townsend Walker
first appeared in The Camel Saloon
Little Green by Xiaojuan Shu first published
in The Looking Glass Quarterly (July 2014, College of Marin)
book design by j. brandon loberg
set in Absara
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CONTENTS
curated by
JENNY QI
Megan Reed
Telomeres and a
2AM (Love) Poem
Circe in the Mirror
1
3
XIAOJUAN SHU
Little Green
11
NOVA REEVES
Suddenly Stateless
15
JILL TYDOR
American Dreams
17
A Sonnet to Notice...
25
SUE MELL
Bird Feeder
27
Boomerang Nebula
33
35
TOWNSEND WALKER
Nessun Dorma
37
LATIF HARRIS
Saturdays Gaining on Me
Unnamable
Angelic Alpha
39
41
43
LYNDSEY ELLIS
CAROLYN MURPHY
I have no mouth
MK CHAVEZ Polar
53
E T L IG
I
U
Q
HTNING IS SPONSORED
lagunitas.com
BY
QUIET LIGHTNING
A 501(c)3, the primary objective and purpose of Quiet
Lightning is to foster a community based on literary
expression and to provide an arena for said expression. QL
produces a monthly, submission-based reading series on
the first Monday of every month, of which these books
(sparkle + blink) are verbatim transcripts.
Formed as a nonprofit in July 2011, the board of QL is
currently:
Evan Karp
founder + president
Chris Cole
managing director
Josey Lee
public relations
Meghan Thornton treasurer
Kristen Kramer
chair
Kelsey Schimmelman
Sarah Ciston
Katie Wheeler-Dubin
secretary
director of books
director of films
- SET 1 -
JJJJJJJJ
TEL O
RES
A N D A 2 A ME E ) P O E M
M (LOV
These are the only kind Ill write you,
when I should be reading about telomeres
how they sit protectively at the ends of chromosomes
and how they wane with every breath we take,
leaving fragments of ourselves behind
as our cells grow and divide and become
ever more vulnerable as we grow older.
I have the sudden brilliant thought
that the chromosomes in our heart cells
must have the shortest telomeres of all,
and I think how I can only admit that
I might tolerate/like/love you
when my science becomes
this bleary-eyed, delirious
brain-mush. These nights,
I look at you sleeping and want to
press my lips to your forehead,
1
Je nny Qi
XXX
XXXXXXXXX
L ITT L E G R E E N
Locust Tree Hutong had been a serene neighborhood
in Beijing. Every morning, the residents woke up to
birds chirping on the locust trees. Chess lovers played
Chinese chess in the hutongthe narrow alley between
the courtyard houseswith several bystanders
observing. Five years ago, the neighborhood changed
when a new business complex was erected one block
outside Locust Tree Hutong. More suits and ties
appeared in the neighborhood. Some families rented
out rooms to the young professionals; some turned
their courtyard houses into hotels; some set up food
stands in the hutong to sell soy milk and buns in the
morning. You would rarely see onlookers surrounding
two chess players now. Everyone here was talking
about one thing: Locust Tree Hutong would be
demolished soon for the developing of new Beijing.
It was a summer morning. The red door of a courtyard
house was pushed opened from the inside. Out walked
an old man, carrying an empty birdcage. The neighbors
called him Old Lin. He wore a straw hat, his back
slightly hunched and his gray hair combed to the
back. Age had carved two deep lines on his forehead.
His white short sleeve shirt hung loose over his
5
and her short black hair danced with the breeze. They
first met in the street when everyone in Beijing was
out celebrating the surrender of the Japanese army in
August 1945. He was 20. She was 19. That day, she wore
a green Qipao that fit her elegantly.
Little Green! Come home! Lin turned back and walked
home. It was almost noon. In front of his house, he
sighed and pushed the red door open. It was a typical
Siheyuana traditional courtyard housein Beijing.
Three families shared this courtyard. Lins house faced
the red doorthe south, and the other two families
faced each other. A tall locust tree stood by Lins living
room window.
Lins family had lived in Locust Tree Hutong since
the Qing Dynasty when his grandfather arrived with
his starving family escaping from the famine in the
North. Lin himself was now a grandfather with six
grandchildren. When the grandchildren visited him,
they were always busy texting or playing video games,
except Xiao Yu, who loved to read books.
Lin put the birdcage on the black wood table and sat
down. The image of him with his head down reflected
on the sunglasses by the birdcage. Lin stared at the
empty birdcage for a long time. It was a redwoodcolored bamboo birdcage. The handle on the top was
real redwood carved with a dragon on one side and
a phoenix on the other. A week ago, in that birdcage,
Little Green said Happy birthday! to Lin at his 75th
Xi aojuan Sh u
10
JJJJ
JJJJJJJJ
COMPANION
Maggot wants to screen print
I survived 97 patches
but he called last night
(cos I live in a warm garage
& were both creatures of the road),
he called me in tears, a warrior fallen,
saying he was gonna die that night
pancreas busted
rotgot of the soul & organs
a cold SF night multiplying the pain
earlier this year my bro Josh died
the day before we were gonna travel
hop trains across country
fell off a cliff
I imagine oceanside smells & the reek of fear
with a 200 foot freefall
the anger of a friend left behind
the rawness I felt in the bathroom
a vacuum created
absolutely nothing left to fill it
in the traveler scene many people died this year.
11
Je ssi ca Ha h n
13
14
NNN
NNNNNNNN
SUDDENLY STATELESS
New lover not yet arrived,
Ive been a bag of waters broken
and a makeshift cross
and a hundred languages
uttering thank you.
Youve been cut wires
re-soldered,
a hawk unnoticed
calling warning across the wind
lines
to your mate
Youve been a tough
posing in the Italian quarter,
admired for your black clothes.
We have both, separately, been street
children on the boulevard
sniffing glue behind cars,
An unknown instrument played
by an invisible gypsy,
Poems no one read.
Ive been suddenly stateless,
15
16
JJJJJJJJJJ
A M ERICAN DRE A M S
american dream
She felt the wetness between her legs as she sat on
the bathroom floor. The pains that had wracked her
body subsided for a moment and with a quick breath
she gave up host. She then took notice of the cracked
beige tile. The splintered lines stood out in a vibrant
relief against the red stain that spread from under her
still twitching thighs.
She had asked Andrew to replace the tile. It was
chipped when they moved in. She could feel the
roughness of the concrete slab against her pink feet
when she got out of the shower. She had bought two
little woven rugs at a flea market in Santa Monica by
the pier. Andrew had said that they looked more like
placemats and so she had set dinner for the two of them
on the bathroom floor that night. He laughed then as
he sipped his wine, his back against the glass door of
the shower. She lit two tea candles and lined them up
along the edge of the sink before serving dessert.
On Palm Sunday, he took her down the coast to a
salvage yard off the freeway. She brushed the sea salt
17
18
angel falls
We worship at the banks of the parakup ven, which
means to fall from the highest point. But, the men
who come in khaki pants that stop just before the
top of their kneecaps call it Angel Fallsthe tallest
waterfall in the world.
They stare upward toward the heavens with mouths
open, hands shielding faces from the glare of the sun,
hearing nothing but the roar of the water that beats
against the rocks in a beautiful violence. They take
pictures of it, of us, with tiny plastic cameras that click
and grind like the buzzing of an insect.
I want to dive into the depths of the Rio Gauya and
tack these photos along the rocky bottom. I want to
slowly let the cold water seep in through the corner of
my mouth, fill up my lungs, weigh me down until I am
nothing but a memory. The ghost of me will continue
to worship in the shadow of the Angel, letting the
spray blanket me in white.
Noely, my older cousin on mamas side, who just
turned sixteen, she does not wait for the men to take
her picture. Instead, while our palms are against the
cool ground beneath the falls, our heads pressed into
the dirt, where I can smell the beginning of the world;
she is on her knees at the vista point, easing down
Ji ll T y dor
19
20
processing
What if we used razors. And cut up wrists or the tops
of thighs, where it is meatiest and the flesh quickly
parts and the blood coagulates in shiny, trembling
bubbles. Before the scars form like fresh graves.
Or took needles to veins, the skeleton spine, the
invertebrate attachment pulsing in chemical
compounds that we cooked over tin foil pulled from
leftover sandwiches found in the back of the fridge.
That fills us with a yellow pain, that echoes through
the lungs.
Or slipped ropes around necks, feeling the tiny plies
tickling our throats, the all-encompassing blackness
and the stars prickling and moving into a burgeoning
universe, as blood vessels burst and our brains begin
the slow atrophy toward anonymity.
Or drank amber cocktails, chilled in small glasses, that
burn our throats, hollow out that space in the middle
of the chest, fill it with rage and ambition and audacity.
Its a slow death this one, that keeps the belly warm,
but the mind weak. And all we can do is sustain the
momentum.
Or chose fingers. Two little digits crammed down
throats, setting the wheels in motion, until the bile
Ji ll T y dor
21
22
- SET 2 -
M
MM
MMMMMMMMMMMM
MM
A SO
ME
OF TH NNET TO NOTICE THE SHA UT IT
E SUN AND N
OT BE SO SAD ABO
Not hungry.
Not Sorry.
The fruit, the flowers,
They dont flourish if they are not together.
I dont see you now.
You dont see me.
Your eyes are closed.
Mine fixed with controlled dissatisfaction.
Still tired, positioned between
comfort & restlessness.
The blanket is shared,
but youre sweating.
You should wake up now suga, I dont want you to be
late again.
I wont be late no mo,
I swear to oats & the fruit that tempt me.
I wont be late suga.
25
SSSSSSSS
BIR D FEE D E R
An oasis. Thats what Penny had imagined her disused
window box to be. A haven for wandering birds. A
place of comfort and safety, and yes, naturally, the
more pressing reason for them to alight, a source of
sustenance. And for Penny, sitting alone in her kitchen,
gazing across the span of dingy linoleum, it promised
the moan-worthy pun of a birds-eye view. Not only
of the ordinary house sparrows that would inevitably
appear, but with luck the cheerful plumage of finches,
both purple and gold, and grosbeaks. Interfering with
natural selection, shed provide a season of abundance
that gave them better odds. Those less capable in severe
conditions would easily survive, build their nests and
raise chicks of less glorious proportions, less perfectly
adaptedperhapsbut no less worthy of a peaceful
moment on her windowsill or in the neighboring
plum tree whose branches reached into her sliver of
yard. Admittedly, the winters were mild, but that in
and of itself didnt mar her sense of purpose.
Once, when the plum tree was in fruit, shed happened
upon a hooded oriole while taking out the recycling.
Its underside bright as a school bus, its mask so
starkly black shed looked around to no one there
27
29
31
32
MMMMMMMMM
PO LAR
I am in search of the ice fish maw
a cold red slit ,
an opening,
a question of expectation.
This is the thought that excites me:
Your sex
glacialsticky, prickly as the glass worm.
That deep sea creature,
the sparkle of your inner Antarctic.
& I, bottom trawl
spongy and bat-starred, full up
with dark ribbons am held tight
by tentacles that bite
that familiar bite.
The crawl and squirm is a testament,
that I am not afraid
of your atmosphere.
So, I enter through the slush and ice.
33
34
BOOMERANG NEBULA
Our winter of empty days
open mouths.
Wind left leaves asunder.
The delicate veins of a skeleton leaf
lingered.
Your hand folding warmth into my hand
folding into ourselves against the cold.
At some point, it became obvious
to not judge ourselves too harshly.
Clover overtook the old airfield.
The path was lost.
Now there was another way home.
Death kiss. Had we known
we might have let it burn longer.
35
TT
TT
TTTTTTTT
TT
N ESS U N D O R M A
No one sleeps.
Not tonight.
Not any night.
Not as long as she haunts the streets of our dreams.
She. The one who does not leave us.
Then.
Now.
Ever.
Why?
She is part of us. The part we wont say hello to. The
part we wont acknowledge lives in us. The dark
spirit that wants to kill, will kill, if set free.
Some call her devil.
Some call her saint.
37
38
SATUR
LLLL
LLLLLLLL
DAYS GAINING ON ME
They used to be
my favorite days
those Saturdays
whatever place in time
though time is the breath
of a falling Falcon
Drive-in dates
in my
Forty Eight Ford
steaming windows
crawling into the back seat
neck on neck falling
in love
week after week
I was a wild kid from L.A.
had a hood
cruised Hollywood Boulevard
with Paul, Aggie, Bill and Flip
40
UNNAMABLE
Manuella the Russian Beauty
Sandra the Hollywood Blonde
Camille Italian Magician
who threw my skins into a rose garden
and in between
closing time whiskey babes
Bar Girls in Japan
shadows in strange beds
the Austrian consort on Via Veneto
Mary Jane how I loved you
what a time to have such a gentle mate
what a touch your hand made
touching my suffering body
it takes so many to keep my spiritual core
running
always lonely in the most elegant fucking scenes
with the most loveable women
They all dissolve into carbon dust
Lati f Ha rri s
41
42
ANGELIC ALPHA
Alpha floats into the bookstore
on my shift
we talked and she left
quickly jumped out the door
caught her half a block away
would you like to have dinner
three days later we make such love
in my cold water loft
Caffe Elite and Van Morrison
in Japan Town
and now thirty four years later
we still lay down together
her body infatuates me still
the curve of her hips
her skin so soft
kissing her sexy lips
our kisses so deep
Lati f Ha rri s
43
Lati f Ha rri s
45
LLL
LLLLLLLLLL
GHOSE X C E R PT F R O M RGS
TS AND C YB O
Lois saw the envy brewing in Raynahs eyes. She swept
a chunk of teased hair off her oily forehead and played
with the jelly bracelets on her arm. Voice quivering, her
sister stood between the makeshift curtain separating
their beds in the shared room and told Lois about the
crush Ms. Myrtles youngest grandson, Tony, had on her.
The news wasnt a total shocker. Tony was their brother,
Theos, best friendhis only friendsince their days
at the old church. While Raynah and Pete were in
Sunday school classes for the older kids, Lois spent
countless hours as Theo and Tonys tagalong, brushed
aside but thoroughly entertained by their goof-off
sessions in Bible Study, youth ushers meetings, and
childrens choir. Tony teased her for being freckled and
pigeon-toed, but Lois noticed the dreaminess clouding
his eyes when he looked at her, how he fumbled with
his words every time he taunted her.
Things were different by their freshman year in high
school. Like Raynah, who failed to get asked to
her senior prom, Tony had become a loner and an
oddball. He traipsed through the hallways, looking
47
49
Weeks later, someone found Petes headless, bulletridden body along the railroad tracks at the end of
their street. Rumors on the details of his death erupted.
Many claimed it was a hate crime in response to his
questionable sexuality. Others swore it was part of a
gang initiation. But, the majority believed hed crossed
the wrong cop, got shot multiple times, and was
unable to avoid an incoming train that took his head.
Reports from several witnesses surfaced, but there
wasnt enough evidence at the scene of the crime to
keep the case open.
Lois found herself on the receiving end of Tonys
withdrawal and growing hostility after his brothers
memorial. Nothing and no one could get through to
him. Hed developed a shadow that was eating away at
him from the inside out.
Where are you in there?
Im here, Lo.
No, youre not.
Their last conversation before Tonys move was brief
and stilted. Lois swallowed hard, willing the smell
of old nacho cheese from the cafeteria to go away
before the heaving returned. She pressed up against
the lockers, liking the distraction of a padlock digging
into her lower back.
50
Lynsde y Elli s
51
CC
CC
CCCCCCCCC
I HAVE NO MOUTH
53
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