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Writing ContestOctober 30, 2013

Frankenstein Goes to the Bathroom

 Frankentestines, by Elizabeth Graehling

Frankentestines, by Elizabeth Graehling

Runner-up in our Hallowe’en poetry contest

 

In the dead dark of a moonless night,
in a cemetery strewn with Spanish moss,
the mad scientist fossicked amongst rejected limbs and ancient bones,
digging up a torn rotator cuff, an irritable bowel,
age-spotted, potentially pre-cancerous skin,
two Achilles tendons stretched like taffy.

His prize find? A lump of brain dulled
and fogged, no memory, no recall,
the stream of thought a constant “Those thingies” and “Whatevers.”

Lightening flashed, Igor stumbled past clutching his hump.
With a jolt, I was transformed from one thing into another,
what was once firm was now loose and flabby,
what was once alert now hazy, half blind,
mostly wrecked, a total mess.

Before bed, I was a woman in her late forties,
but part by part, I was replaced with the used and tired.
the bungled and the botched,
the crazed man racing around my body, affixing me
with wires and tubes, screaming, “It’s alive! My god! It’s alive.”

Later, after everything, I wobbled out of bed,
grabbing a wall, a dresser.
I tripped over my actual two left feet,
lurched toward the bathroom, arms outstretched,
a round moan in my wide open mouth.
I was a woman unable to navigate her own house,

everything unclear, difficult,
the toilet there,
no there.
No there.

~ Jessica Barksdale

 

Jessica Barksdale is the author of twelve traditionally published novels, including ‘Her Daughter’s Eyes’ and ‘When You Believe.’ Her short stories, poems, and essays have appeared in or are forthcoming in Salt Hill Journal, The Coachella Review, Carve Magazine,  Mason’s Road, and So to Speak. She is a professor of English at Diablo Valley College in Pleasant Hill, California and teaches online novel writing for UCLA Extension.

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One last love letter...

April 24, 2021

It has taken us some time and patience to come to this decision. TMS would not have seen the success that it did without our readers and the tireless team that ran the magazine for the better part of eight years.

But… all good things must come to an end, especially when we look at the ever-expanding art and literary landscape in Pakistan, the country of the magazine’s birth.

We are amazed and proud of what the next generation of creators are working with, the themes they are featuring, and their inclusivity in the diversity of voices they are publishing. When TMS began, this was the world we envisioned…

Though the magazine has closed and our submissions shuttered, this website will remain open for the foreseeable future as an archive of the great work we published and the astounding collection of diverse voices we were privileged to feature.

If, however, someone is interested in picking up the baton, please email Maryam Piracha, the editor, at maryamp@themissingslate.com.

Farewell, fam! It’s been quite a ride.

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