_ Now look: everyone took turns to talk, there are black braches, the birch bark tears quickly a______like an envelope It isn’t a lying, shirtless night, and there aren’t crickets it’s cold the surf melodies a scatter in leaves a_____dead ladybugs salt the sand. There’s sand in my dinner and the salt tastes like a dead ocean. _
I love: I have loved, I am in love now. I am over here, I am distant in love something in an overhanging cover of dead branches told us that’s ok a_____somebody built a lighthouse that a robot runs now, a_____and there was a sign driven wet into the sand that said KEEP OUT but we came in the wrong way from behind a_____and from a science perspective, from a rational perspective, from a quiet perspective there were so many ways to enter
a_____a_____how could we have seen the sign? a_____And why was there a shed for firewood in a forest of downed, dry trees dry in the cold, dry, dry crisply hanging in branches on the ground over the damp undergrowth a_____firewood cold is as useless as smoke a_____smoke, smoke decidedly goes up and up from our surrounding figures like a secret helicopter, our firewood smoke into trees, how I wanted to capture that flow but I only have time for another beer, So, what I gather: We have marshmallows, fire and a_____a seat a_____something other than
Russell Jaffe teaches English at Kirkwood Community College in Cedar Rapids, IA and holds an MFA in poetry from Columbia College in Chicago. His poems have appeared in Shampoo, MiPOesias, The Portland Review, Spooky Boyfriend, Writer’s Bloc, and others. Additionally, he writes a hot sauce review blog called Good Hurts.
“Eclectic selection of work from both emerging and established writers….” The Washington Post
“Literary Burroughs D.C…. the journal cleverly takes its name from the The Great Gatsby. F. Scott Fitzgerald….” Ploughshares
Proud member of the Council of Literary Magazines and Presses.
_
How I hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity. —William S. Burroughs
The Doctor T. J. Eckleburg Review is an online and print literary and arts journal. We take our title from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and include the full archives of our predecessor Moon Milk Review. Our aesthetic is eclectic, literary mainstream to experimental. We appreciate fusion forms including magical realist, surrealist, meta- realist and realist works with an offbeat spin. We value character-focused storytelling and language and welcome both edge and mainstream with punch aesthetics. We like humor that explores the gritty realities of world and human experiences. Our issues include original content from both emerging and established writers, poets, artists and comedians such as authors, Rick Moody, Cris Mazza, Steve Almond, Stephen Dixon, poets, Moira Egan and David Wagoner and actor/comedian, Zach Galifianakis.
Currently, Eckleburg runs online, daily content of original fiction, poetry, nonfiction, translations, and more with featured artwork–visual and intermedia–from our Gallery. We run annual print issues, the Rue de Fleurus Salon & Reading Series (DC, Baltimore and New York), as well as, the annual Gertrude Stein Award in Fiction, first prize $1000 and print publication, guest-judged by award-winning authors such as Rick Moody and Cris Mazza.
Rarely will readers/viewers find a themed issue at Eckleburg, but rather a mix of eclectic works. It is Eckleburg’s intention to represent writers, artists, musicians, and comedians as a contemporary and noninvasive collective, each work evidence of its own artistry, not as a reflection of an editor’s vision of what an issue “should” be. Outside of kismet and special issues, Eckleburg will read and accept unsolicited submissions based upon individual merit, not theme cohesiveness. It is our intention to create an experience in which readers and viewers can think artistically, intellectually, socially, and independently. We welcome brave, honest voices. To submit, please read our guidelines.
Over the ashheaps the giant eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg kept their vigil, but I perceived, after a moment, that other eyes were regarding us with peculiar intensity from less than twenty feet away. – The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
SUBSCRIBE FREE NOW for squeaky clean updates on Moon Milk Review’s new issue releases and contests. (Moon Milk Review promises to never clog your inbox with spam mail, bacon grease, or unwanted come-ons. We will never share your personal information with outside parties. We will never kiss and tell or slip roofies into your drinks. Seriously, folks. Subscribe now, and we promise to love you forever. Really.)
