New York Tyrant

Last Words & Impossible Truths
by Joe Wenderoth

Jordan Castro

Last Words & Impossible Truths <br>by Joe Wenderoth</br>

On the eve of The Big Day—known as Big Day Eve—the Pioneer is given the opportunity to record, in the solitude of his Dream, Last Words.  Last Words are 30 (contiguous) seconds long.  

When they are recorded, Last Words are heard by no one.1  Last Words are not fully heard, of course, until there are Beligerents in The Casino.  

Last Words Condemn The Casino.  Last Words are the formal Condemnation (in 17, 19, 21, or 23 steps) of The Casino.2  The Last Words ritual may as well be called The Condemnation of The Casino ritual.   

Being remains in its fated Saying while Last Words are heard and for hours beyond.  Before going to bed, however, the Lunatic always goes down and retrieves Being, takes it back into her Mind, and puts it in The Future. 

Mildred Thorn
by Brandon Hobson

Jordan Castro

Mildred Thorn <br>by Brandon Hobson</br>
Mildred Thorn was surely much too old for such things. He recognized in her a desire to be blindfolded, or so he thought, strange as it sounded. He helped his mother take care of her on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when his mother wasn’t working at the halfway house outside of town. Mildred Thorn was not so old she couldn’t communicate with him or walk to the bathroom on her own. She was forgetful of medication and needed someone to help her with laundry and meals mostly. Poor old woman, she needed help. He didn’t think of her as elderly. The more he was around her, the more he discovered Mildred Thorn aroused something in him he couldn’t define or understand, not at all, not under the odd circumstances of helping her into the tub.
     For instance, any time she needed to wash her hair in the tub he would volunteer to do it, which pleased his mother a great deal. That’s nice of you, his mother said. Please do! He understood the physical act of washing Mildred Thorn’s hair, helping her lean forward to the spout and pouring a long drip of shampoo into his hand and massaging it around in her hair. He liked doing this. He imagined she was sucking his cock while he massaged her head and thought: this is what it would be like, massaging her head while she sucked my cock.
     Keep your eyes closed, he told her while he massaged her scalp. Keep them closed now, hear?

Three Poems
by Kelly Schirmann

Jordan Castro

Three Poems <br>by Kelly Schirmann</br>

The New World

I used to believe I was an animal
but then I got in touch with my Urges

There’s a blood moving in me
that didn’t come from my body

I’ve misplaced my receipts
but I think you know what I’m talking about

Two Stories
by Greg Mulcahy

Jordan Castro

Two Stories <br>by Greg Mulcahy</br>


Now Rosek called every instruction a script.
     Came from a seminar. Or a consultant. Something.
     Script, Rosek said, is working hard. Working Hard is what the script’s called.
     Besides the scripts, there were notes.
     Notes ordered specific tasks.
     He wanted to say there were no non-specific tasks, there could not be, but he did not say anything.
     Rosek handed him the note.
     He put it in his shirt pocket.
     By my heart, he said, like a scapular.

The Cut in Half Man
by Peter Markus

Jordan Castro

The Cut in Half Man <br>by Peter Markus</br>
They found the cut in half man cut in half with just one half of him to be found. They did not find the half of the cut in half man that had legs to go with that cut in half man half that was found. This was in the woods. Trees and more leaves in the trees than are stars in the night's dark sky. The half of the cut in half man that had legs might have walked off—through the woods. Who's to say that half of the cut in half man that had legs could not walk? The half of the cut in half man that had hands, the hands of this cut in half man could do things with his hands: like make a fist, or reach up from the dirt of these woods where this cut in half man was found, as if to ask for help, as if to say, to these boys who found him: Give me, please, a hand.