Dogzplot – Fall 2008

Dogzplot is an amalgam of eclectic and varying styles of literary excellence publishing fiction, flash fiction, creative nonfiction, artwork, opinion pieces, poetry and even photos (which are requested to be works that are not necessarily “good” or polished as polished can be, but works that will “blow our fucking minds”). When you read this journal, you will quickly realize that it is an energetic environment where the humorous and the serious artwork, writing and photography can coexist with the ironic, sardonic and satirical pieces that dominate this daring journal. And you may not know where the bones are buried in this unique universe, but rest assured you are one happy dog.

Dogzplot is an amalgam of eclectic and varying styles of literary excellence publishing fiction, flash fiction, creative nonfiction, artwork, opinion pieces, poetry and even photos (which are requested to be works that are not necessarily “good” or polished as polished can be, but works that will “blow our fucking minds”). When you read this journal, you will quickly realize that it is an energetic environment where the humorous and the serious artwork, writing and photography can coexist with the ironic, sardonic and satirical pieces that dominate this daring journal. And you may not know where the bones are buried in this unique universe, but rest assured you are one happy dog.

In the story “Dirty Laundromat” by Stephanie Johnson, we are brought face to face with a serious narrative entrenched in the negative relationship between a daughter, her father and mother and the vastly symbolic nature that the laundromat plays in their lives: “Cards, her mother says as if the daughter doesn’t know about the clean sheet quarters that thicken her father’s pockets. Who can count everything we’ve lost?” At this point in the story, a sense of tragedy and helplessness, like a tightened fist that has never been able to punch that which caused its pain, chastens our curiosity to plunge forward so that these memories of a most stark nature will be revealed.

In the antithesis to the first work discussed, the poem “Twenty-five Ways of Looking at Jeff Parker’s Balls,” we laugh before we even read the official first line, but that is not a bad thing: “Through an expedient Netflix subscription that delivers Emmanuelle. / Through a quiet canal in a willowy gondola (beneath a husky mustache). / Through the highs and lows of an amorous affair with a genie boom. / Through the smashed grain of a tortilla chip the plasmic salsa of renewal. / Through the frosty refrigerator of a limping blond florist.” This poem is like the finest of guacamoles: it’s thick, simple to dip and scoop, and so delicious you can’t stop eating until it’s all gone.

In the smallest section labeled the “Advice Column,” a many part series of absurd aphorisms are numbered and delivered like the sharpest of comedic one-liners: “When someone shows you their baby, don’t say, ‘Let’s see how much of that widdle arm I can fit in my mouth and down my throat.’ You will get punched or arrested,” or “Putting a vacuum cleaner hose down your throat will not ‘get the evil out of you.’ It will just hurt and taste bad.” Although often crude, this “Advice Column” is useful, poignant and hilarious.

This satirical and Family Guy like piece is another example of why Dogzplot will make you foam at the mouth and chase the mailman. And when you calm down, you will gaze at some beautiful and colorfully expressive artwork by the artist Carol Radsprecher and dip your finger in the chocolate pot of flash fiction that will leave you so dazed and confused you will have return to the lopsided contents of this journal, get on the teeter totter until you have found its candy center, and are so satisfied that you will never leave.
[www.dogzplot.com/]