Neon Literary Magazine #35 Page 3

  after the huge wave

  had sent him off the pier,

  before he disappeared

  into the grey water

  and out of sight.

  The lifeboat and a helicopter

  searched till dark,

  then again the next day.

   

  Nearly a week later

  just off Dungeness

  some fishermen hauling

  in their net, drag

  a bloated rag doll

  from the water.

  Out from the jeans' legs

  and under his anorak,

  leaving the body

  by various orifices,

  some of them new,

  the eels.

   

  Deborah Sellers

   

  Image by "soopahtoe"

   

  Methodist Hospital

   

  Hopeless

  you in the bed

  me in the chair

  both of us waiting

   

  You became talkative

  near the end of my visit

  I counted

  the freckles on my arms

   

  *

   

  What To Do In Paris

   

  I put on my best Edith Piaf hair

  explored the city with a grin

  and a red push-up bra

   

  Frenchmen

  thought my accent was cute

  perfect loaves of bread

  jumped into my arms

  strong bottles of wine

  followed me

  through the French Quarter

   

  I knew you'd be napping

  when I returned

  hungry when I woke you

  so I brought you an apricot tart

  and didn't tell you

  I fucked Hemingway in the Louvre

  his breath smelling of scotch and the

  garlic potato salad they no longer serve

  at Café Lipp

   

  *

   

  I Need A Sharper Knife For This

   

  Sixteen yes,

  but, if I was

  all too willing,

  can it really be said

  you corrupted me?

   

  To this day

  I gauge all men

  against you,

  even your brother.

   

  To say who was better

  is a baby

  I won't want to hold.

   

  Annette Volfing

   

  Image by Marcelo Moura

   

  Pinpricks: Before The Conference

   

  So you step

  out of the three-star hotel

  into a different rain from at home.

   

  Numb streets, the narrowing hours.

   

  Search out

  a table for one, as you wait–

  a single rose, a luminous wine.

   

  But there's no story here.

   

  Just the wait

  for the start, just the shivering spell

  cast in the clouds so you'll think and you'll breathe

   

  like a doll that somebody hates.

   

  *

   

  Sharing

   

  His dreams are amateur.  Maybe,

  once a year, a girl;

  maybe even one with breasts;

  but he can never be quite sure.

   

  She sighs, impatiently, as he confesses–

  then explains how she was raped,

  yet again, by the entire Red Army

  in just two minutes before the alarm went off,

  and still had time to re-take

  her French O-level and wash the kitchen floor.

   

  *

   

  The Row

   

  A swollen day, jabbed. 

   

  Soon it will split right open,

  to a black place by a black sea,

   

  all outline gone,

  just a shuddered spoke

   

  like the devil's tail.

   

  Contributors

   

  Image by Yazmeen Razak

   

  Jenny Gray grew up in rural Aberdeenshire, Scotland. During her school years she wrote a monthly column for her local newspaper The Ellon Times. She read English with Creative Writing at the University of Chester. Since she graduated she has been travelling in Canada and working on her first novel.

   

  Jack Brodie is twenty-two, and started writing in 2011 after he read The Rain Horse by Ted Hughes. He lives in Alton, Staffordshire, amid the screams of the famous theme park. During his degree he took a Creative Writing module under the novelist Joe Stretch. This is his first publication

   

  Noel Sloboda serves as dramaturg for the Harrisburg Shakespeare Company and teaches at Penn State York. He is the author of the poetry collections Shell Games (Sunnyoutside, 2008) and Our Rarer Monsters (Sunnyoutside, 2013) as well as several chapbooks. He has also published a book about Edith Wharton and Gertrude Stein.

   

  Sarah Greenfield Clark is just another someone, writing in what little free time there is. She studies the craft with the Open University and she'd love to do this as a living, but for now she's mostly happy being a mum and escaping in poetry and prose when she can.

   

  Nicole Cloutier is the Editor in Chief of Lumina. She grew up in rural Connecticut and is currently completing her MFA at Sarah Lawrence College.

   

  Derek Adams is a photographer, poet, poetry promoter and sometimes writer of short stories. You can find out more about him and his work on his website [https://www.derek-adams.co.uk/].

   

  Deborah Sellers lives outside of Indianapolis, and is temporarily of the leisure class, which unfortunately doesn't pay the bills. She lives with fellow writer Kitrell Andis and their cat who thinks she is a marshmallow. The most interesting thing she's done lately is seen an Ai Weiwei exhibit.

   

  Annette Volfing is originally from Denmark. She is now an academic teaching Middle High German literature. Her poems have appeared in The Interpreter's House, Smith's Knoll, Snakeskin and The Oxford Magazine.

   

  Imran Khan provided the cover image for this issue. You can find out more about him and his work by visiting his website [https://www.imrankhan.co.uk/].

   

   

  Supporters

   

  [https://thelondonmagazine.org/tlm-editions]

   

  This issue of Neon was made possible by the kind support of:

   

  Lisa Clark

  April Davila

  Shannon Ralph

  Jessica Falzoi

  EAM Harris

  Richard Fox

  Matthew Di Paoli

  Simon Collings

  Patrick East

  Steven Young

  Victoria McGee

  Noah Saunders

  Sandra Hiortdahl

  Benjamin Liar

  CH Thompson

  Danica Richards

  Kevin Bannigan

  William Wallace

  Sarah Purnell

  Jan-Kees Kok

  Sunetra Senior

  Cynthia White

  JA Underhill

  Tracey Swan

  Amelia Ashton

  Bryn Fortey

  Jon Margetts

  Scott Thornley

  Charles Thielman

  Christopher DiCicco

  Woodland Grove Gallery

  Neal Holtschulte />