November 26 – December 2, 2012: Liv Lansdale and A.J. Huffman

Liv Lansdale and A.J. Huffman

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Liv Lansdale

Bio (auto)

I’m Liv Lansdale, I’m twenty, and I grew up in Towson, MD, where I currently live. I’ve edited a few literary magazines, interned at Baltimore’s City Lit Press, and am a double major (creative writing and sustainable development) at Columbia University. I once caught a shark with my bare hands.

The following work is Copyright © 2012, and owned by Liv Lansdale and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Explaining It

Each metaphor is an extension of itself.
Searching for a flashlight in the dark
to find whatever needs finding, life
on a canvas painted by a stranger.

Writing the music to your question
not counting the half hour you
shouldn’t have spent in bed.
Little can be said on that.

And then you try wanting to set fire
to a dollar bill, but you surrender
to practicality every time. Such
failure lends you credibility.

So declare the problem solved, after
having decided a certain action
was the solution. There is no –
& never will be – proof.

Otherwise why explore mystery
(with an upper case m)? Why
cultivate awareness of your
galaxy, its rings & belts

& little phenomena, that all swirl
around the black hole we share?
Go fight, then, a finger puppet
war over buttons, & the way

we hide from our children. It ends
when you liken me to a horse, in
turns ridiculous & breathtaking.
You better believe it.

Still, much of me is scared
like hell: a wavelength
reradiated against
my will.


Natural Phenomena

Don’t cry. Honestly, the surprise
was not of being touched
but his own reaction.

After he scratched his head,
avoiding eye contact
by examining his fingers:
he didn’t know
if it was dandruff
under his nails
or if the nails themselves
were turning to powder
the way the rest of him
seemed to be transforming
(again, one must avoid moisture
at all costs).

Back to surprise.
We knew, for instance, there was
an earthquake because of the
wind chimes
…………… not what came next.

A.J. Huffman

Bio (auto)

A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has previously published six collections of poetry all available on She has also published her work in numerous national and international literary journals. Most recently, she has accepted the position as editor for four online poetry journals for Kind of a Hurricane Press ( ). Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work at HERE and HERE.

The following work is Copyright © 2012, and owned by A.J. Huffman and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

I Have No Room

for another
diagnosis. OCD, bipolar, schizophrenic,
borderline, Aspergers, split
personality. Keep your opinion, labels,
prescriptions, useless government cuts
calling themselves supportive funding, and bigotry.
Leave me to my self-
contained dementia. I am building
castles out of commas. You are creating comas
in place of common emotions. Tell me, which
do you think is causing the real damage? You
blinked first. Too bad
you can’t tapdance. A sidestep
shuffle would be a useful skill. To step lightly
and with feeling. Don’t
give me that condescending look. I don’t need
your approval. We are fine in here,
all by myself.