Every month I await the new issue of elimae so I can read how ridiculous the new shit is. Elimae is pronounced L-E-MAY, and it stands for something like Electronic Magazine Lady or Literary Electric Man or Arbitrary Horseshit.
So I started looking at the April 2011 issue, thinking I might parody some of this crap like I used to, but I don’t have it in me anymore. I couldn’t care less. Still, I wanted to see if the same old names appeared in the contents. Sure enough, many of the names I’m used to seeing are there. I think they might be staff writers or something.
But there are some new writers, like this one fella who wrote a poem called “Pimento 7,” in which every damn line is crossed out. Why the hell would you do that? If you don’t like what you wrote, why did you submit it? And why did they accept it? I can’t read it! It looks ridiculous.
There are also three poems by actress Catherine Zeta-Jones. They make absolutely no sense and are lousy with forward slashes. Why in God’s name would you pepper your crap poetry with forward slashes? Why not just cross everything out?
Now, mind you, I only ever read the short shit in elimae. There are always two or three really long pieces that I ignore because the extremely short ones are the gold. For example, Mickey Tettleton’s two poems about crystal meth addiction. At least I think that’s what they’re about. Damned if I could tell. And wait, sorry. These aren’t “poems,” they’re “fictions.” Elimae is big on the word “fictions.”
Mickey’s first poem goes something like: “I hitchhike in the dark and wear my wig and I miss my hair. I do what I do because I don’t do it Didn’t. Donn’t. I’m wearing a wifebeater.”
In the next fiction (God, that sounds stupid), he’s eating glass cereal and defecating on someone. Good concept, but I don’t completely get it.
Then there’s Elimae Ellen, who is also in every issue of this thing. I don’t read her stuff most times because they’re often longer than I’m willing to give. I see there are plenty of references to famous broads in this one and I still won’t read it.
Then there’s some haiku, which is important. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….
Finally there’s Howie Good. No issue of any poetry journal is complete without a Howie Good poem for some Godforsaken reason. This poem is short (even though it’s labeled “Extended Version” LOL!). Anyway, read it. Figure it out for yourself.