ff-retina-iconFANTASTIC FLORIDAS // The online journal of Burrow Press,
expanding the boundaries of Florida literature.

 

POETRY // 01.14.20

Eustace Eliger Edgecombe Remembers

Caridad Moro-Gronlier

I even forgot the caramel of my lover’s skin, forgot the way back
to my island, forgot myself and pledged my life in service to one
man’s pleasure, donned the white gloves and clutched a clipboard…

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The Bees

It was the first week into her second trimester, and here she was, smoking a cigarette and filling her stomach with bees.

How the Devil Finds Out

It happened on the corner of 147thand Miller, beneath the long branches of an oak hanging over the corner. It happened often enough— usually to white kids crossing U.S.1 in front of the University of Miami or other tourists on The Beach—but seldom in this residential area, and never on this intersection.

Amber Stream

He fished the Suwannee: slow- flowing, tea-stained, wild, where the river drops through limestone and revives itself.

What Blood

Mr. Chuck Stonehill walked over from next door and told me he found a tackle-box, a bullet, and a rubber by the picnic table in the backyard under the palm tree between our rusting beach trailers.

Schnozzle

I was so innocent that my first thought was he didn’t know he was exposed. But the way he was staring at me so fixedly soon made me realize it was on purpose.

An Excerpt from Radio Dark

The streets of Memphis’ town had been orange groves when he was a boy. He remembered as, one by one, the groves were bulldozed to make room for neighborhoods, for the people from up north, finally tired of the long winters, to settle into their respiratory diseases and neurological disorders.

An Excerpt from Radio Dark

The streets of Memphis’ town had been orange groves when he was a boy. He remembered as, one by one, the groves were bulldozed to make room for neighborhoods, for the people from up north, finally tired of the long winters, to settle into their respiratory diseases and neurological disorders.

Lonely Boy Fights

The ending to my story in Orlando flickers. I thought I knew how the story would end when I first set out to write this series. The scene would be framed at the Orlando International Airport...

Lonely Boy Dates

If I like her and she likes me, we run the gauntlet: Wally’s, Lil Indies, Tako Cheena, and then a fifty percent chance of never seeing each other again...

Lonely Boy Dances

At Lil Indies, a hipster bar, it doesn’t seem like many people are getting into the music. People pause conversation and look at the empty dance floor like someone left on the TV. So I decide to get wasted out of my mind until I believe in myself...

Lonely Boy Grocery Shops

I’m too lazy to walk the 1.5 miles to Publix, so I hail a Lyft and sit on the apartment complex stairs with my chin in my palm, thinking about a Buddhist koan...

Reservations

It’s peak season and all the snowbirds are here, trying to escape the horror of the outside, for the last few weeks the smell of decayed ocean life has fallen like a curtain of death.

Jesus Christ Super Scar

Joanna slowly collapsed. I caught her and lowered her to the floor, stood back up and watched her writhe, sob, and frantically babble words I didn’t understand.

Flying Toward Morning

Days passed and I feared she would sleep forever. That the hospital had put her under a sleeping curse. I told Anne my theory that some doctors were witches, some were fairy godmothers...
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"I have touched, you know, fantastic Floridas
Mingling the eyes of panthers, human-skinned, with
flowers!
And rainbows stretched like endless reins
To glaucous flocks beneath the seas."

–Arthur Rimbaud