Spring hath sproingeth

cover of Jersey Devil Press issue 132, a moody art of a person with their hair spreading above them like black mold

Our latest issue is here, and I’m in kind of a weird place as I write this. Thanks to wild spring temperature swings and an antique residence that struggles to adjust itself to them, I am wedged on a child-sized purple sofa in the upstairs playroom beside a resentful cat, who admittedly was here first, because it’s the only comfortable spot in the house at the moment. It’s a narrow room with an angled ceiling and a floor that tilts enough to send any spherical object on a swift and tumultuous journey to the eastern baseboard. This combination of unexpected proportions and angles infuses the space with a slight uncanniness, a sense of being someplace that is an imperfect imitation of reality.

It’s not a bad a vibe for collecting my thoughts on issue 132, which brings together some of our favorite things: folklore, trinket nostalgia, invertebrates, poop, flea markets, and inexplicably tiny things. The beautiful and unsettling cover art will pull you in for a closer look. So settle into some peculiar corner of your own world and give it a read.

Arctic Treasures

Robert Perchan

Well, what is the fate of polar
bear scat in the end, anyway?
Are we to imagine glaciers
littered with dark brown spoor
like vanilla ice cream sprinkled
with chocolate jimmies?
Sliced, does it become
Official NHL Hockey Pucks?
Do the Inuit call these hefty turds
Coconuts of the Arctic
and carve frozen faces on them
to peddle to tourists
who fly back home to Florida
and unpack their suitcases
among palm trees
and a most disagreeable odor?
And should you and I think twice
on a blistering summer’s day
before wrapping our lips around 
a creamy, chocolate frosted
global warming inside our heads?

 

ROBERT PERCHAN’s latest books are the comic futuristic novella Tropic of Scorpio (Spuyten Duyvil Press, 2022) and Last Notes from a Split Peninsula: Poems and Prose Poems (UnCollected Press, 2021). His short story collection “Shocks, Meester?” is out now from Spuyten Duyvil as well. His poetry collection Fluid in Darkness, Frozen in Light won the 1999 Pearl Poetry Prize. Bob continues to eat, drink and write in Busan, South Korea, under the bemused gaze of his translator wife, Mi-kyung Lee.

Insect Etymology

Randy Brooks

dead insects under glass
a little boy
made up names

when it opens its wings
he knows
it’s an admiral

giant swallowtail
pinned to the drying board
one antenna moves

unidentifiable cricket
in the bug collection
named Jiminy

under the display glass
a water strider’s legs
akimbo

in the driveway
he identifies
bugs guts on the car

 

DR. RANDY BROOKS is Professor of English Emeritus at Millikin University in Decatur, Illinois, where he teaches courses on haiku, tanka, and Japanese poetics. He and his wife, Shirley Brooks, are publishers of Brooks Books and co-editors of Mayfly haiku magazine. His most recent books include Walking the Fence: Selected Tanka and The Art of Reading and Writing Haiku: A Reader Response Approach.