Did you know?
For the first time, Banango Street is accepting submissions of art work. Send us your best paintings, drawings, comics, etc. to https://banangostreet.submittable.com/submit
Banango Street Issue 4 is now live. It features poetry and prose by Melissa Broder, Lisa Marie Basile, Brian Oliu, Rebecca Bornstein, F Daniel Rzicznek, James Tadd Adcox, Caroline Crew, Theadora Siranian, Joshua Amses, Leora Fridman, J.D. Sommer, Sarah Jean Alexander, Juliet Childers, David Tomaloff, Matthew Drew Williams, Alexander J. Allison, and Kat Dixon, with art by Andrew J. Weatherhead.
We are also excited to open submissions for Issue 5 in an expanded 5 categories: poetry, prose, translations, collaborations, and artwork. Submissions are open until Friday, July 19th.
Finally, we announced yesterday that we are seeking a guest prose editor for Issue 5.
I FALL IN LOVE WITH EVERY ATTRACTIVE WOMAN I MEET by DILLION J. WELCH
Bumper cars is a contact sport. Going all out against the other drivers is an important part of the ritual. To defeat the other bumper cars is to become a mature adult. Without this ritual there would be no way of reaching maturity. Laughing at the bumper cars loser is critical. Failure to make others feel like failures misses the point of bumper cars. Upon victory there must be an exchange of happiness. This involves eating ice cream. Sweet victories are sweeter with ice cream. Good weather makes it better.
Tuesdays have nice weather. Weather is the defining moment of a Tuesday. Not quite Monday, not the middle of the week, Tuesdays have nothing going for them. Flirtations happen on Tuesday. Nothing else is going on so why not start a relationship on the week’s most boring day. Relationships are solidified on other days, the Fridays and Saturdays of the week (better known as the most optimistic days). Yet with Tuesday there is a certain comfort that everything will be taken care of later in the week, with the foundation of a measly weekday.
Butter makes it better. The greasy ingredient makes things delicious. Indeed butter serves as the foundation for countless food products. Food will never admit it. Rather the food will admit to enjoying its tanning ritual, better known as toasting. People love eating that yummy tanned food. Like humans though, food too enjoys getting a healthy tan to impress its sickly pale friends. Sun is number one fun for any pasty piece of bread, or bagel, or whatever food item it chooses to be.
What the food fails to realize is the consequences of eating. Food can’t eat itself. Teeth know of food’s many difficulties. Dentists exist to take care of this problem. Little fillings find themselves in the mouths of forgetful idiots. Failures to brush are given little medals for their heroic work. Cavities love the attention. By receiving these metals, which range from bronze, silver, and gold, the cavities know they have accomplished something beautiful. The dentist acknowledges the cavity’s work in creating their livelihood.
Feigning interest works some of the time with this attraction. Teeth are the gateways to the mouth. Inside the head though there is a lot more to chew over. Minds are full of these tough, chewy ideas. Looking inside one’s mind is hugely important. Plenty of ideas reside deep inside the mind, many never seeing the light of day. Of course the structure of the mind creates this dark, dank dungeon of doom and gloom. Yet for those few lucky ideas they get to wreak havoc on the world.
Meetings are highly important for these ideas. Sometimes these are ideas of love. With the help of another the ideas can become alive. Even movies, those isolated incidents of ideas, need an audience. Though the audience size may differ the result is the same. The experience of a movie with others gives an important thing to talk about, a shared artificial experience. Experiences ought to be shared.
Banango Lit: WANTED: Guest Prose Editor for Banango Street's Fifth Issue
On the eve of the release of our fourth issue, we have an important announcement to make:
For our fifth issue, we’re looking for someone to help us edit the prose section (fiction, nonfiction, flash fiction, lyric essays, etc.)
If you’re interested, send us an email @ banangostreet@gmail.com, with the following information:
- Name
- Previous editorial experience
- Favorite prose authors
- Why you want to be our guest editor
Applications are open from now until next Wednesday, May 22. We hope to hear from you!
H_NGM_N: Notes to a Young Poet 3.2
NOTES TO A YOUNG POET is a series that began in November 2012, inspired by Andrea Henchey’s poem of the same title, published in H_NGM_N #11. For the third round of the series we’ve asked contributors from the current issue to share their Notes.
This week features Russ Woods, who has three poems in H_NGM_N #15.
NOTES TO A YOUNG POET
First off I am sorry
that my eyes are so wide
as I say this.
I was recently called out
for being so earnest
while encouraging someone
to write poems.
It is a good thing for you
that you already write poems.
Please click on the links
to read all of these notes
from all of these poets
with all of their advice to you
& then do the opposite things
& then later learn they were right
but don’t make the mistake
of thinking they were right
before you think they are wrong.
There is an order. Keep it holy.
But first!
Here are the crumbs
I have for you to ignore:
How about a poem with extra birds.
We could forget what they are
& just say birdbirdbirdbirdbird.
Then we remember birds & laugh!
when we read it again
with all those warm bodies in there.
How about be sappy & corny & sad
& awful & pretentious & obvious & dumb.
Because all the best poems
are at least three of these things.
It isn’t that we should quit being sentimental.
It’s that we should get super good at it.
Our hearts are eighteen hungry wolves
that are okay saying things about “our hearts.”
How about a love poem.
There are old words
that get said so many times
but I want to smell
your gross breath on them.
A poet is a ridiculous,
unrealisic thing for anyone
to be & this is the fun part
because you are one
& you will wear it so well.
portrait of Russ Woods, by artist Pete Toms
