Wednesday, April 9

Devil Island Disks


by Oonah V Joslin

“Welcome again to Island Discs. Today we have Lucifer.”
“Don’t call me that; makes me sound like a box of matches!”
“Anything you say…Satan then?”
“Beelzebub, Satan, Nick..whatever….”
“Okay, Nick. Do you enjoy your work?”
“It ain’t the same as it used to be…not as much fun. In the old days people was pious. It took effort to make ‘em stray. Nowadays they’re at it before I even get there. I even had to lay staff off.”
“That must have been galling. What is your first choice of record?”
(Adjusting his scrotum) “‘Great Balls of Fire.’ - reminds me of the good old days.”
“Who is the person you’ve most enjoyed welcoming to Hell?”
“I’d have to say Jesus. He didn’t stay long you know but it was nice to see him; knew his father well back in the old days. We had a nice chat. Other than him, ordinary people - not your Napoleons and Hitlers - they always act like they run the place.”
“And your second choice of record …?”
“Barry McGuire’s ‘Eve of Destruction.’ I always look forward to that!”
“What would your ideal island be like, Nick?”
“Somewhere cool with lots of cats. The Isle of Man, say. I like cats. Cats are selfish and you know the old saying about a cat’s chance in Hell.”
“And your third choice…?”
“Has to be, ‘Cool for Cats.’”
“Do you have a favourite TV program Nick?”
“Never miss, ‘Songs of Praise’!”
“Really? You like hymns?”
“Hell, no. But I love vanity! All them good Christians neglecting their own churches just to get on the telly - best clothes, best facial singing expression? It’s one of my most refined temptations. They don’t even see it – too busy watching themselves.” (Shakes his head and chuckles.)
“So your next piece won’t be a hymn then?”
“Well kind of an anthem really; ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’. I got news for you folks! I just love all that misleading, mushy, feel good stuff don’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Wrote most of ‘em personally you know. Do I get the credit?...royalties?...zilch!”
“That does seem a shame.”
“Which is your favourite deadly sin, Nick?”
“Well, that’s a difficult choice. I’d have to say - plain old fashioned pride - seems like a virtue see and it always comes before a fall.”
“You chose, ‘Jezebel,’ as your next disc. Why?”
“She threatened violence! You ever met that gal? She’s a demon!”
“All jobs have a downside, Nick. What’s the worst aspect of your job?”
“Downside,” (laughs) “I like that. I never get to meet the nice guys. He gets first pick, always. Plus, most people get to retire, take holidays…me? ....it’s never ending!”
“And your next record…?”
“Chris Rea – Road to Hell.” (Sings) “‘This ain’t no technological breakdown….This is the Road to hell.’ Paved with good intentions!”
“What do you love most about your work?”
“The shock on their faces - ’specially the religious ones - popes, archbishops and the like. Kills me!”
“Do you have a favourite type of music – Jazz maybe, Rock?”
“Anything by Stockhausen.”
“Stockhausen it is, then.”
“What about sex, Nick…..?”
“Here and now?”
“No I mean…..did you invent sex?”
“Wish I had! It’s not an issue with Upstairs and me. You’re just like all the other animals - it’s a functional thing. Why you get all worked up about it…who knows?”
“So there’s no Mrs. Satan?”
“After what Eve did to you lot?”
“Your final two recordings won the Eurovision Song Contest, Nick…is that coincidental?”
“Nah, we use ‘em to torture the damned so I kinda like ‘em… and they say the Devil has all the best tunes!”
“A favourite book Nick…”
“The complete works of Poe… love, ‘The Red Death,’ and can I have the Screwtape books instead of the Bible anthology? Never did get to meet Jack Lewis - pity that.”
“One luxury?”
“Tobacco and pipe - it’s my one vice! I ‘m not even the worst there is any more! ‘Sic transit gloria mundi,’ eh?”


Oonah V Joslin was born in Ulster and lives in the North East. She writes mostly flash and poetry but is working on a series of stories she'd like to see as a real, honest-to-god, book. She won the MicroHorror trophy 2007 and most rerad in Every Day Fiction in January. She has a cover mention in Twisted Tongue issue 9 and is shortly judging a poetry competition for The Shine Journal. BUT she's a reclusive wee soul. You can get links to all her work at http://www.writewords.org.uk

Monday, April 7

The Stair

by Sammy Jay

I climb the stair,
Work backwards from the edge,
Despair’s edge, this overhanging ledge,
Biting the teeth of words.

Dead ledge of dead rose petals,
And a sunken sun -

Work backwards,
The stair,
Drug politics,
Colours,
All a whirl.

Aggressive with the edge of words
Vicious in biting thoughts,

Back to leaning back against the bulge
Of bulging wood.

Back back,
Among the deeply felt and fleeting garden,
Fleeting, veering in parrot cries,
Quicksilver eyes, and a world
Of laughter.

Voices and laughter in the glade,
A fungus genesis.

Back back back but before
Before - the swirling journey and the walk
Through sirens, sea girls, iron and summer wine,
Drug politics within the whine
Of sirens and the wind.

A world of no discernible rhythm in the line of trams
And formless shapes.

Back back back back to childhood,
Infant eyes - colours,
An array of newness,
That wide amaze of sky.

In that beginning, in that garden,
Ringed within a raven world
There is a life

At odds with nothingness and dissipation,

At odds with the approaching black,
Fighting with white light,
A vibrant, living arsenal of colour.

All in that first glance,
Before the deep divide and dance
Along the line, before the trance
Of wires, blood and steel,
There is a loving, fighting feel,

All in the eye
Of the child
At the beginning.


Sammy Jay is a 1st year English student and is (wrongly) convinced that he is Shelley.