An escape from National Poetry Month and poetry just in general….
Dumpster Fire Press’ first release for May features the spectacular short fiction collection from VOICES FROM THE FIRE contributor and fellow MAD SWIRL contributor Harry McNabb.
Featuring cover art by James Maj.
“It’s a real pleasure to release Harry McNabb’s latest story collection. I first encountered his work on MAD SWIRL and instantly became enthralled during the first virtual mic realizing these were tales meant to be read aloud…which got me all charged up but not entirely in an erotic way either…”
“Harry McNabb is one of those rare original voices you seldom hear about because, well to be honest the simulation existence we mainline ourselves to in order to sustain a basic form of survival attempts to veil us from the bizarro reality we actually live in and the types of stories Harry tells isn’t too far off base from the way we live, it’s like the hero’s journey in a vicarious bizarro fashion…”
“Anyway, Dumpster Fire Press is really proud to release this book and give a shout out to a seldom heard voice such as McNabb and another shout out to Colton Basinger for easing the editing process, DFP wouldn’t exist without you guys…”
“Most importantly, I look forward to the day or evening I head back to Texas, hang out with the Mad Swirl crew and meet Harry in the flesh, perhaps we’ll collaborate on a film called “The Great Interstellar Spaceship Pie Eating Contest” and he’ll take me to the mineshafts and show me where the bodies are stored.”
This is one of those fiction collections that has a little bit of everything for everyone or rather anything for anyone.
Stories meant to be read aloud at inappropriate times and places such as JESUS AND THE JAMES BOND FACTORY…
So there’s a bunch of James Bonds at the James Bond factory and I’m killing it on the production line stuffing tongues into mouths when a big hyena comes skulking over to me and I don’t know how it got here because we have forcefields between the plant and the forest where the hyenas live. I say, “go away, scram!” to the hyena and it takes on a flirty expression that sort of says, “but I don’t wanna go home…” and I am having none of that. I know some of my colleagues like to date and copulate with hyenas, but I don’t because I love Jesus and Jesus loves me. I tell the hyena, “get lost, you stupid hyena!” but it puts its paws up on the assembly line and insolently grabs one of the tongues with its jaws. For a moment my countenance takes on that of an evil, red-eyed, and growling lawnmower. What the fuck? Why can’t everything be perfect like a penny into a slot? I went back to adding tongues to the heads of James Bonds. The heads have mouths and noses but no eyes because that is the next step on the production line ahead of me. My head feels like it’s on fire for a second due to an intermittent allergic reaction to the tongues. It hurts but I power through the pain because I need this job because I gotta get that bread. The funny thing is, whenever I get this allergic reaction, I have X-ray vision for a second. Doctors don’t know what causes it, and they wanted to send me to a CIA hospital, but I said no, and they said yes, and then I said I was lying about the whole thing because I am schizophrenic and so they gave me anti-psychotics that I don’t take, but pretend I do. I’ve studied schizophrenia thoroughly in the DSM, so I know what to say. I decide to take a break and I take off my gloves. I see one of my coworkers stroking the hyena with desire in his eyes and I roll mine. I walk across the gangway and look down to see a sea of freshly minted James Bonds saying, “Vodka Martini shaken not stirred,” and other catchphrases. This sea of men is also where they learn to flirt and have sex with each other. Some of them will get movies. Many others will die on missions. I make it to the break room, and I go over to the VHS player. I scour the titles. Cruel Intentions. Billy Madison. Event Horizon. Pump Up the Volume. Adventures in Babysitting. Then, bingo: The Passion of the Christ
We’ll just leave it there for right now…
I really can’t say more rather than you should just pick up the damn book and read.
Stay surreal as DFP still contends with getting out the latest issue of VOICES FROM THE FIRE , in the meantime support someone who is actually creative…
Dumpster Fire Press 