Episode 19: The Dinosaur-Robot Episode
b"For this episode, we have two \\u201ccreepy\\u201d poems submitted for our Monsters Issue by Sarah Kain Gutowski.\\n\\xa0\\nWelcome to Episode 19 of Slush Pile! For this episode, we have two \\u201ccreepy\\u201d poems submitted for our Monsters Issue by Sarah Kain Gutowski.\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nSarah Kain Gutowski can't keep succulents alive and is easily distracted by all things blue and shiny. Find her on Instagram @sarahkaingutowski to follow her annual #domesticviolenceawareness project during the month of October, or at her blog, Mimsy and Outgrabe, where she keeps a messy, irregular, sometimes profanity-laced record of her life as a writer, academic, and mother of three.\\nWhile these poems, part of a suite, did not get unanimous votes, we all felt they enveloped us into a universe of magical realism. True to the tradition of scary stories, these poems demand to be read slowly, deliberately, and out loud. Additionally, Gutowski\\u2019s work is more than simply scary. Like Kathy says, \\u201cSometimes freaky shit happens,\\u201d and these poems force our team to consider the ambiguities of life, or pre-death, as Tim puts it.\\nListen to the outcome, but one thing is for sure: these poems are stronger together.\\nComment on our Facebook event page or on Twitter with #frogtongue and sign for our email list if you\\u2019re in the area, and even if you\\u2019re not! Read on!\\n\\xa0\\nPresent at the Editorial Table:\\nKathleen Volk Miller\\nLauren Patterson\\nTim Fitts\\nCaitlin McLaughlin\\nJason Schneiderman\\nMarion Wrenn\\n\\xa0\\nProduction Engineer:\\nJoe Zang\\n\\xa0\\nPBQ Box Score: 2=0\\n---------------------------\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nChapter VI: The Children Have a Request\\nThe season stretched itself thin, weakened by storms and heat.\\nInside the damp, shadowy space of the children\\u2019s fort,\\nthe woman with the frog tongue wove baskets and bowls\\nwith tight, interlocked laces, while her silk stitches\\nbegan to fray and lengthen. The gap between her lips\\nwidened to where the children could see the white of her teeth.\\nThey stared at her, sometimes; she saw them clench their jaws\\nand try to speak to each other without moving their mouths.\\nBefore long they\\u2019d begin to laugh, and she\\u2019d shake with relief at the sound.\\nThen one day, when the trees broke into glittering shards\\nof gold and red and green, and light spun pinwheels above\\ntheir heads as they walked together between the falling leaves,\\nthe girl looked at the woman and asked if she had a name.\\nAt this, the woman jerked to a stop. The old surge,\\nthe impulse to speak that rose within her belly and chest,\\noverwhelmed. She wanted the girl and boy to know her name.\\nHer tongue, rolled tightly and barred from moving inside its cage,\\nstrained against her teeth and cheeks, contorting her face with its rage.\\nThe boy stepped back when he saw the change on the woman\\u2019s face.\\nThe girl moved closer, though, to pat the hand she held\\nlike she might a frightened kitten or skittish, fallen bird.\\nLet\\u2019s guess your name, she said. The woman\\u2019s jaw fell slack,\\nas much as the stitches allowed. Her panic passed away.\\nThe boy saw her relax and began to hop around.\\n A game, a game, he chanted. Across her eyes the sun\\nsliced its blade, and though her vision bled with its light,\\nshe felt cheered by the girl\\u2019s hand and the boy\\u2019s excitement.\\nAurora. Jezebel. Serafina, guessed the girl.\\nHer brother laughed and grabbed a fallen branch, whacking\\nthe moss-covered roots of the trees surrounding them.\\nThe woman laughed, too, short bursts of air through her nose.\\nHer happiness shocked them all. The boy laughed again,\\na raucous sound, and she looked the little girl in the eye.\\nA curve tested her mouth\\u2019s seams, more grimace than grin,\\nbut the girl smiled back and sighed with some relief. Then she reached\\ntoward the woman and pulled her close, until they were cheek to cheek.\\nThe girl\\u2019s face, cold and smooth, smelled of the moss and earth\\nher brother lashed and whipped with vigor into the air.\\nThe woman with the frog tongue hugged the girl loosely,\\nas if those little shoulder blades were planes of cloud,\\na shifting mist she could see and"