The Orange Room Review

Thank you to Justin Hyde for sending me an email and turning me on to the online poetry journal, The Orange Room Review.  (Yes, I am getting some emails, but I’m not sure if I’m getting all emails, so if you’ve sent me one and think I’m ignoring you, I probably didn’t receive it.  Or possibly I actually am ignoring you and using this as an excuse. 😉 )  Anyhoo…

Justin has another exceptional poem (I don’t think he writes any other kind) published in the current edition called she told me her mother slept with a revolver.  This is one of those poems where an excerpt wouldn’t do it justice — you have to read it as a whole to get the full impact, so go click on the link above.

Interestingly and coincidentally, the current issue also features a poem by Zachary Bush who was just featured in a recent post here at A Bunch of Wordz.  The poem is called My First Week at the Boys Boarding School.

Also, check out Before Dawn by Elliot Richard Dorfman.  I like the rhythmic flow he achieved in this short poem and the way he put his words together to convey a certain kind of feeling to go along with what he had to say.  Here are a few lines:

“In the dark, the mellow chimes
of my clock strike the hours.
I feel serene and transfixed in a world that
seems to be mine, alone.”

I know I have a few regular readers who are writers themselves, so I thought it worth mentioning that the turnaround for submissions at this magazine is unusually fast at between 1 and 14 days — good news if you’re looking for a quick response to your poetry submittal.

It Pays to Eat at McDonalds

I am a Justin Hyde fan.  He writes killer poetry and strange stories.  Here is an excerpt from one of the latter, called It Pays to Eat at McDonald’s:

“They were standing in front of the pop dispenser. Shooting it into their cupped hands and slurping it up. Was it Coke? Dr. Pepper? I can’t tell you because I couldn’t see through the adipose tissue and dual thickets of dirty brown hair. I could only hear the slurping, clicking of the mechanism and that torqued chortle native to ultra obese children.

I stood behind them, waiting patiently with my tray and empty cup.”

Read the entire story at the above link or visit the online magazine, Unlikely 2.0, where the story is published.