The Moon Zine #04 - Cold (Dec. 2015)

Issue

#04

/

December COLD

2015

Dear Readers and Moon Lovers,

Welcome to our 4th issue! The theme for this month’s Moon Zine is Cold. Brrrrrrrrrrr. “This is the month when the winter cold fastens its grip and the nights become long and dark. This full Moon is also called the Long Nights Moon by some Native American tribes.” 1 Like our previous issues, the pages that are numbered are original submitted content. The other pages are altered by yours truly and unique to each edition of the issue. Unlike previous issues, this one features a bonus minizine deep within!

Check our social media for future themes and submission due dates.

Thank you for taking a chance and picking up our zine. Hold on to it, or pass it on to the coldest zinester you know, as The Moon Zine is one of a kind.

Warm wishes, The Moon

1. The Old Farmer’s Almanac (Dublin, NH: Yankee Publishing, Inc., 2015).

staff bios

Julie Davis - The hard-boiled cop.

Allison Sissom - “you get groans, when you get puns.”

Wes Harbison - Very slowly getting better at the game where you guess the word on your forehead.

Lauren Kellett - missed this meeting cuz dr unk @ a j a z z c r a wl

staff picks: ice cream

Julie - chocolate with lots of chocolate stuff in it Allison - chocolate chocolate chip cookie dough with m&ms.

Wes - with pie Lauren - Fritz’s vanilla concrete with cookie dough and brownie chunks.

Wait

by Sophie Irina

its cold on Jupiter its big and its cold I’m a little afraid of angels and I want to be an astronomer its cold in my house we turn on the heat in November I’m building a set for a play that will never play and I’m trying to make my father proud because his father was gone very quickly its cold on Jupiter and I’ll be there soon

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by Samie Knobbe *************

2

Lost Poem

by Trista Sullivan

Hints of maple kiss each of Your highland grog fingertips.

The smell of her shampoo Pierces & permeates throughout Your living room, lingering still To this day, on your pillow.

You told her you'd make a perfume That smells like the car heater on, Long drives home for Christmas.

Aromas of her laundry detergent Still live in your spine Like LSD When you turn your neck a Certain way you fall back Into trances of her & 1997.

Vick's Vaporub, Nyquil Cough syrup breath, with A 104 degree fever she Sobbed when her last Sea monkey died I call her cartographer.

Intricate trails of herself connecting each board of Your apartment floor.

Charted long ago when her Candle still burned scents of warmth.

The art of burning.

A front the fire place of Maple logs where you told her To Let Go.

5

by Josh Saboorizadeh ****************

by Joe Knobbe ***********

6

I’m just a tourist life is a nightmare: my semester living in England

by Taylor Kolkmeyer This series is made up of selected diary entries of a sad brat from the states

9

I’ve read some blogs of the Americans is pretty cool actually. They in my classes. They say they feel like the are upset about this but happy world is their playground. Already? Tell that yes, frat boys are real. Yep, me again that one thing I’ll just love so is James Franco… probably. when I get here.

Hey, I’m trying to have a good This is not a story this is how I felt time I don’t really want to get Cathedrals are built on bones and garinto the 9/11 conspiracy. I left nished with gift shops with a different group later on I am so fucking cold to smoke weed and this is how We pull up and the woman whose house I made my first friends.

I am staying at catches up with my cab “You’ve got to be mad, godriver. Apparently Lloyd has been a cab ing home with strangers your driver for a long time. This woman shows third night in this country.” I me to my room, gives me a cell phone shrug. Everyone on this contiand says I can get it working for just 10 nent is a stranger so it doesn’t pounds. She says I don’t have a curfew or seem to matter. anything and doesn’t say much else. Her Aislinn from Ireland Steve name is Wendy she is 64 she smokes from Wales and Harvey from and likes Audrey Hepburn. I have three England. Harvey rolled a tulip days until class. I joint which go into town and Hey, I’m trying to have a was the get coffee and most beaugood time I don’t really tiful thing make lots of eye contact and that want to get into the 9/11 I have ever is not how you smoked. We conspiracy. make friends. talked about I go to a club a dessert with some American girls I met on camall of our nationalities would pus. We can drink in this country. Yay! agree with. I called Harvey Everyone is asking me if the clubs are “Hobby” all night because I better in America. This club is three stomisunderstood what his name ries tall and I tell them no… this place was through their accents.

“Okay so it starts with a chocolate with nougat. You roll it in toffee bits…

I said deep fry it they said yes good very American Aislinn said to dip it in something I didn’t understand what she said they all said yes excellent Steve said wrap it in (something) they said brilliant I said coat it in m&ms they were like noo too crunchy and I can never clearly hear what they are saying through their accents but I liked the subject matter because I could jump in at any time. Aislinn and Steve both played guitar it was cinematic.

None of them knew where St. Louis was. I said how can you assholes drink Budweiser all night and not know where St. Louis is?

“Well where is it?”

“Close to Chicago. You know where Chicago is? Yep maybe like, five hours south” “That’s not close at all!!”

I talked about the drive between the two cities, I said it was all flat and basically just

corn fields and tornadoes. They repeated how I said the word tornado a few times and had a laugh. Steve asked me about American music. I said back home, St. Louis has a big scene for post emo punk DIY music. Steve said emo music has been dead for years, all those kids are into techno now. We watched Foxing’s video for “Rory” on my phone and I said “I am proud of those dudes” even though I don’t ever talk to those dudes. I told him about giving my friends stick n poke tattoos and roller skating. I’ve never had the task of describing St. Louis’ culture like this. I have also never been so concerned about convincing a group of people that I am interesting. I need some friends in this place. I say well… our boyfriends make music that we don’t listen to and we give people homemade tattoos. Haha. Yes. I can hear myself and I’m not sure how it sounds to them. They invited me to go to Amsterdam for Harvey’s birthday and we booked the trip.

Europe is looking up.

Aislinn said she heard on the ray-deeOh! That this is going to be the coldest night of the year. She walked me home for a bit but not all the way.

10

umbrella

by Grace Wahlen *************

13

Frozen Killer

By Sarah E. Hoffman The frozen north seems an unlikely home for me,

a cold hearted serial killer, but in the dark of long nights opportunities abound as

winter carousing and social merriment designed to starve off the

black, dead, cold of winter encourages the idea that the odd missing person is a consequence of winter gaiety

and not a likely candidate of murder.

Instead of a brittle white body embalmed in ice there is a warm, sticky pool of blood on the floor.

Dinner is served.

Untitled

by Rachel Singletary You crack the trees like bones, one after the other, the splintering sound filling my ears. You think that the cold makes you whole, makes you pure. I'm here to tell you that it doesn't and when it thaws what will be left of you? You've given so much of yourself to the ice that you will be a shell of the man you think that you are when it finally leaves you. The cold is like you, bitter and cruel, and when I'm gone there will be no one to warm you again.

15

17

Remember When We Were Freezing To Death

****************************************

by Guillaume C Artis

*************************

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20

22

The Moon Zine presents: Connect the Dots (remember you will die)

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The Moon Zine presents: a Tom Martin Double Feature Index Erasure I

by Tom Martin

cold before you open to teach you how it’s anticipation that’s cluing the fire make it perfection the scene takes time to be funny notice through the crack of the door things growing hot (the door open behind you) BEAT-DOWN-FIRECRACKER-SOUND! the best cold times finish in a fire kind of way

Untitled

by Tom Martin

Between the periodic bursts-the fuzziness that comes and goes-came a glimpse, from a frame within a frame, of snowfall, but its color turned to red.

It seems to me that since I’ve slept summer slipped out the back. The first straw to break a camel’s back.

A rouge rush, a lover’s blush, takes over those that never feel.

26

by Julie Davis **********

29

Wintermoon

by Petitecreme ***********

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Indifferent to these rumblings

By Allison K. Sissom Sitting on my couch, I listen to the cars race past my window, And watch my cat lick her paws.

Boring.

Utterly boring.

If I was reading this, I would have stopped by now.

In our editors meeting, I put on a booming voice and read the shitty poems as dramatically as possible.

She languished by the window, Looking for a love she’ll never find.

What an asshole.

Both the writer, and me as a reader.

I’ve got a lot of patience, but not for bullshit.

One of my students, when she makes a mistake, rips up her paper.

No erasing. No covering it up.

She gently lifts the paper in the air and rips it right down the middle.

Once she started over 6 times in one class period.

33

Part of me is annoyed and the other part, admires it.

The most amazing fuck-it-I’ll-start-over attitude or fuck-it-I-can-do-better attitude.

Impossible to distinguish which once she holds.

So let me try again.

Reclined on my couch, Little clippings of sunlight Carry in the sounds of the busy street.

My cat and I are indifferent to these rumblings.

34

made in saint louis, missouri, usa

“O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”

- Romeo And Juliet Act 2, Scene 2

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