Danse Macabre,
issues XXI - LV, will forever depart the ether on 30 Apr 2012.
Microsoft is unilaterally exorcising its OfficeLive platform on that date. In toto.
If you have not yet backed up your published submission(s) to us,
you must do so before the 30th of this month.
{An Indice officiel is forthcoming at our new home,
wherein your work can be referenced by agents, editors,
faculty covens, and other interested parties.}
AE Reiff
Three Big Ooks
Once upon a time there were three big Ooks that lived in a house in Dubity. Turk Ook was the Papafather, Mama Ook was the Mama mother, and SueLit Ook was the baby who looked like her dad. Each Ook took a bowl of sausage for breakfast. There were ginger snaps stuck in the side. If you didn’t count the chickens or the occasional gaseous emissions they were quiet Ooks, excluding a belch, the first sign.
Mama belched to Turk about his 800 pounds. When he and Sue walked in the park their footprints filled with water and drowned little dogs who were in the park to go PupPote. She defended PupPote, the proverbial dismemberment Pups cause. It was necessary for Mama’s plate, called eeing. Pups eat off Dame’s floor, which is nothing to her since she eats all Ooks and Pups who are slaughtered and served up as remains. There are no special meanings to Remains, PupPote, Park, Ook, etc. It’s a lot to feed an Ook to an Ook. Ooks are like big books. She was the Ook of fame. Turk was feeding Sue to Dame! It boggles the mind that Turk the publisher fed and then was eaten.
The second sign of the Ook is passionate desire. Ma Ook, Dame Belcher or Guapa Pop, she has a lot of names, ate both SueLit and her dad. He had retired from publishing by then to write fairy tale, an 800 pound Ook with a 600 pound Ooklet, Turk married the Guapa Mama for Ook amour. She was his second Ook.
Were you Turk you longed to ook. Were you Dame you longed to ook, although the sense is different, as if a pasty. Little dog PupPotes long to be best sellers in Ook. In this rubble it wasn’t just breakfast they cooked, but lunch pasties, Ham on Rye, and dinner with TV and appliance. Modem in the left, forkem in the right, dinner was never so ooked.
So whatdaya eat when you eat an Ook, broadside big as ham, clerihews, anthologized stew? It’s all a cure what ails. Indigest? Drink milk in your poem. Sleep aid? Hunger? Roast PupPotem in your home. SueLit is a beauty cure. What doesn’t Sue Ook cure? She’s that grape of the huge alone. Had you the bone then the world would be one! One peace, one world, one home! Susan! But where has she gone? That’s what we’re here to show.
2.
The secret came out when a goat tied to Dame Ook’s bumper blabbed. Billy, with his Nanny and their kid went abba daba dab on the bumper. The Dame kept PupPotes too in the back seat. There were little Schnauzers, a Pomeranian, and a Pifawa paperback. Never in the metaverse has this been solved.
To sum up, Mama Ook in a gingerbread house with smoke coming out the top fattened up Turk for the kill. That smoke is the third sign of Ook. When Turk went up it was as big a loss to little dogs as to big Ooks, Turk being the source of all their food. Why would Dame fatten and kill what made her live? On the other hand Mrs. Ook hungered. So she ate some PupPote.
In their warning about Ooks, Ookem!, the goats had said that these things were indigestible. Everyone knows now the mess, the gravy, meat balls on the wall. The beauty of Ookistry is that these tales about Turk and Sue Ook will bring them back.
AE Reiff
sculpts fictions, animals and people. Sometimes the sculptures precede the stories, It’s all about patterns clay makes that the brain recognizes. He conducts investigations into the leftist beliefs of Pennsylvania Dutch sects of 18th century Pennsylvania, has twice been a PopTart nominee, sent poems into space in digital bottles (something the lot of us know a little something about), and is generally a surfactant package of biomediated accelerators to feed hydrocarbon degradation. All is indexed at the site Encouragements for Planting. Current ceramic sculptures at Animal Wilderness and examination of the causes of biological extinction at Human Botany Review
AE Reiff
New Jargon Horrors of the Obesity Wars
Jargon Psmith derived new art, new species and a new organ in a day. This species, called Psmith, was an anti-diuretic nerd. It grew a carapace to protect its inner parts. Then it overate. Squeezed by this carapace the parts ballooned out. Afraid it would go pop, Psmith took anti-diuretic meds to shrink it back. So Psmith reinvented itself, but shrinking had unintended consequence. It’s was like turning in a bottle of pop at the store. Heightened exposures produced a noir. What’d ye think? Pushee down, pushee back.
New Jargon had hands full of specie and art. Things you cannot dream. Gene sculpted! But it took more uresis than Psmith thought, which engendered The Horrors of the Dessiccate. Perhaps you read it. Flakes of acid crystal lodged in Psmith’s brain.
We admire how urinary speech transformed Psmith’s kidney to a brain. We’ll be digesting that kidney with the gut when Psmith brings up more.
AE Reiff
sculpts fictions, animals and people. Sometimes the sculptures precede the stories. It’s all about patterns clay makes that the brain recognizes. He conducts investigations in leftist beliefs of the Pennsylvania Dutch, was twice a PopTart nominee, sent poems into space in digital bottles, and is useful as a surfactant package to biomediate hydrocarbon. But you already know this. Indexed at Encouragements for Planting. Current ceramic sculptures at Animal Wilderness, examination of biological extinction at Human Botany Review.
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