Our Apparent Editor El Jefe is on vacation through Labor Day. Regular posts will resume after that.
Happy dirty dog days of summer loves!
Happy dirty dog days of summer loves!
1. Emotionally Strong people are less discouraged by the stresses and discouragements of life than people who aren’t Emotionally Strong people.
2. Emotionally Strong people are able to unemotionally express their emotional needs.
3. Emotionally Strong people don’t focus on the hurdle itself, but on the nourishing Light near and around and on the hurdle.
4. Emotionally strong people eat correctly and exercise the right, and correct way.
5. Emotionally Strong people are able to recover quickly from the emotionally harmful nature of emotional wounds i.e. rejection, failure, or when Whole Foods is out of umeboshi paste.
6. Emotionally strong people get the amount of sleep they need, and understand how to best navigate their own specific and Loving sleep patterns.
Raw and focused disillusionment. A longing for a definable existence within the mundane. Heartaches tacked with pushpins. From all of this, with unexpected play with syntax, a defiance towards traditional form, and tactile and terse imagery, Meghan Privitello creates a playing field where she volleys ideas of love, loss, relationships, and the self. Within the boxed-in boundaries of fixed margins, the poet’s search for a new language is a way to re/define her heart and explore her own humanity.
In poems such as “Active Drowning,” “Manifest,” “Interpretation,” and “Too Late,” she exposes blind spots within herself and has a distinct way of illustrating what has left the room. There is a humility of the self in her poems which creates a vacancy that she is longing to fill, trying to fill with a new language if nothing more. Often, she lets in a crack of light to reveal what is behind the empty room, if only to reveal more darkness and despair. Even though at times Privitello exposes, at best, a fraudulent landscape of the disparity of the self, it is within these emotional juxtapositions that her personal perspective of her own humanity is put forth:
Gill-less and guileless, how long could we live
together in the sea, never knowing when we’ve
gone too deep?
Sometimes I am so small my obituary starts
and ends with she. Continue reading
Only Assholes Live in Brooklyn We look at photographs of French bulldogs b/c we are bored & it is midnight & we don't cry when we're sad. I’m here to make you lonely in the drain of my shower a child’s heart is clogged like a bad decision I swallow it. Water drifts my pubic hairs in a crooked line each hair will be shaved never to know yr name yr body will do most of the work. Continue reading
WJ: First things first, let’s talk about the history of Maudlin House. How did you get started, and what did the early days of the journal look like? Was it always staffed by multiple editors, or did you start out as a solo operation? What was it that made you decide to start another literary journal, and what do you think Maudlin House brings to the table – now, or even in the beginning – that was missing from the literary community beforehand?
MS: Maudlin House started with me and my MacBook at Starbucks. I was just at the beginning of my trying to be writer. In fact, when I started the site I think I had only been published once, and after some time I actually had that publisher take it down because I was shy, dorky, and embarrassed about the poetry I had written. I had absolutely no credibility or mandate to create Maudlin House. All I remember is going through the grind and submitting to literary magazines and being really annoyed with the chaotic sites and ridiculous response times.
8 ACTS OF LOVE & FEAR
Scene 1: Skateboard basement, diluting one of your friends
into losing a fight with her boyfriend & in the end Does It Really Matter
who ruins the party, the last reliable law of thermodynamics being
Scene 2: The lead singer twisting in the neon
is very beautiful; I will order you infinite whiskey sours
if you will reconcile my latest internal onslaught for the next 4 hours
or distract me—yeah let’s go with that
Scene 3: They sound sort of like Modest Mouse after edibles
‘I thought if I came all the way out here I would be happy’
I think my last honest addiction is to repeating my mistakes in the hopes
insanity, in this vein, is more fun
Scene 4: Photograph flash of your mother’s face falling
Scene 5: ‘You have to get over the fact that you’re getting older.’
‘No, I don’t. I just realized yesterday
I don’t have to do anything.’
Scene 6: And now back to the hospital, Vinny taking a selfie of the arm IV, me grinning because it is so relieving waking up anywhere
Scene 7: If this plane goes down I am happy
‘Rick and Morty’ was on—it gives me hope
after the crash & fire & eventual artifacts
we will wake up in a kinder, more bizarre universe
where everything makes less and more sense
Scene 8: But it doesn’t, and now the unconscionable task
of approaching uncertain
I don’t know, everything