Month: February 2025
CNF: Please verify that you are human
by Callie Dean
Sperm whales have an alphabet. Crows can count to six. Sea otters turn stones into tools. Starlings keep coin collections; orangutans mug into mirrors. Hyenas laugh, bats kiss, giraffes mourn their dead. Lab rats pull on levers as if playing slots in a casino. The giant Pacific octopus can unscrew pickle jars and medicine bottles. Chimpanzees jockey for power with surprising political prowess. Eagles practice monogamy, and not even fruit flies can escape the pull of peer pressure. Elephants paint. Chatbots write novels. And I, with my wild, precious life, click all the images containing motorcycles.
Callie B. Dean is a writer, musician, and program evaluator living in Shreveport, LA. Her essays and poetry have appeared at Coffee + Crumbs, JMWW, Unbroken, and HOOT. Her first picture book, Marvelous Mistakes: Accidents that Made History (Beaming Books), will be published in 2026. Find her online at calliebdean.com.
See what happens when you click below.
What surprising, fascinating stuff can you tell us about the origin, drafting, and/or final version of “Please verify that you are human”? I’ve never considered myself much of a poet. However, during a recent conversation about creative nonfiction, a wise writing mentor said, “Maybe poets are your people.” Unexpectedly, her words set me on a journey of discovering, and falling in love with, the genre of prose poetry. “Please verify that you are human” is part of an ongoing prose poetry series that explores the implications and pervasiveness of modern technology. As a genre, prose poems occupy a space “in between:” between prose and poetry, between narrative and lyricism, between realism and fantasy. As I look at the world around me, I can’t help but notice that we are living in a similar kind of liminal space as we try to make sense of what it means to be human in an era of information overload and artificial intelligence. Each poem in this series aims to ask big questions about humanity, technology, and transcendence within one delightfully small, quirky block of text. In April of 2024, “Please verify that you are human” will be featured in a two-month-long literary arts installation that I am designing inside artspace, a museum in Shreveport, LA. If you are interested in learning more or participating in this exhibition, please reach out to me using the Contact form on my website (https://calliebdean.com/contact/). by Gaurav Bhalla She says: Why can’t you put the spice bottles back in the rack when you are done with them? He says: I was looking for paprika. She says: You’d find it if you put it back in the same place every time. He says: Should I make my omelet with olives … or capers … or both? She says: Reminds me, did you pay the property tax bill? He says: Hot pan, warm oil, perfect for a fluffy brown omelet. She says: There’s a very hefty fine if we don’t pay the property tax on time. He says: You were saying? She says: Forget it. Asking you to do anything is a waste of time, should just do everything myself. He says: Yes, the property tax, would have paid it, couldn’t find the bill. She says: It’s on the kitchen desk. Did you bother looking? He says: Have you seen the kitchen desk? She says: What about it? He says: Looks like the local landfill. She says: 90% of the junk on that desk is yours—car keys, wallet, watch, Wall Street Journal. Why don’t you dump your junk on your own desk? He says: My desk’s in the basement. She says: All hail the Lord of the Manor. Fie, fie, fie. He says: Ah, the play begins. She says: Want to know the ending? He says: NO. She says: Want to know the ending? He says: Let’s not go there. She says: Let’s, I’m sick and tired of running this show single-handed and being dumped upon. He says: Adam Smith, division of labor. She says: Labor gets paid, I don’t. He says: What are you suggesting? She says: When you started your company, you asked me for an eight-year divorce. He says: A temporary one. She says: It’s coming up on thirteen years. He says: Thirteen years! My how time flies. She says: Time’s up. Choose. He says: Choose what? She says: Cut it out, you know damn well what I’m talking about. He says: Would you like some of my gourmet …? She says: Your omelet’s burning. Gaurav Bhalla is an entrepreneur, educator, and former global C-suite executive. Published in both business and literature, his writing focuses on cross-cultural themes that aim to deepen people’s understanding of themselves and others. His short stories have been published in India, UK, and USA. Recently, his short stories have appeared in Jimson Weed, Defenestrationism.net, and The Writing Disorder. See what happens when you click below. What surprising, fascinating stuff can you tell us about the origin, drafting, and/or final version of “Knots and Braids”? Knots and Braids
Check out the write-up of the journal in The Writer.
Matter Press recently released titles from Meg Boscov, Abby Frucht, Robert McBrearty, Tori Bond, Kathy Fish, and Christopher Allen. Click here.
Matter Press is now offering private flash fiction workshops and critiques of flash fiction collections here.
Submissions
Poetry, creative nonfiction, and fiction/prose poetry submissions are now closed. The reading period for standard submissions opens again March 15, 2025. Submit here.
Upcoming
01/13 • Edward Thomas-Herrera
01/20 • Zero Laforga
01/27 • Jack Bedell
02/03 • TBD
02/10 • Gaurav Bhalla
02/17 • Callie Dean
02/24 • TBD