The folks at Gigantic Magazine put together flash and poetry issues with the craft of a painter, creating compositions of various tones and shades. A couple months have passed since this issue was released, but the paint is still wet and will get on your clothes if you lean too close, which is a good thing.
Amanda Montei’s “WHITEOUT” is rife with fog, ribbon-yarn, baths in milk and snow.
The army men are spraying the green hillside with some kind of fog. The smell is terrible. She can feel it in her lungs. There are children emerging from the horizon, crawling her way. The children fall asleep on the horizon, all covered in fog.
“CLAUSTROPHOBIA” provides the colorful splatters that leave us spellbound. His words dart and flash in so many directions that all we can do is hold on tight.
I feel guilty buying only French not Colombian coffee but proud I’ve never had a social coke phase. Yet I often pass out mid-conversation, hallucinate internally about hella girls on hecka mountains of yay and how I’d dive through it all like that old duck fucker from DuckTales—all this while my epidermis smiles somewhere above my neck, continuing our conversation.
Michael McGrath completes the flash section with voices floating in the background of a summer evening in “DISCUSSIONS”.
It was an orange August dusk. They were still at brunch. George was spooning vodka from a sourdough bread bowl. Amanda was sipping a mug of whiskey. Seth arrived late, blinking away gathering tremors. He was off his antidepressant five days. Amanda bought twenty milligrams from the sullen hostess and dosed his pint of prosecco. Soon he was whistling through his nose. The evening was blurry. Intentions fled with the retreating horizon.
Take a look at the whole spring issue here. Not to worry, Gigantic Magazine has something for poetry heads as well.