Mark McCawley is a poet, fiction writer, editor, and micro-press publisher. Since founding Greensleeve Editions in 1988, he has published over fifty chapbooks. Since 1993, he has edited and published the litzine, Urban Graffiti, which upon publication of issue 11 embarked as an online magazine on May, 2011. Mark's fiction and poetry has appeared widely in Canada in magazines and in the anthologies: Burning Ambitions: The Anthology of Short-Shorts, edited by Debbie James (Toronto: Rush Hour Revisions, 1998) and Grunt & Groan: The New Fiction Anthology of Work and Sex, edited by Matthew Firth and Max Maccari (Toronto: Boheme Press, 2002). He is the author of nine chapbooks, most recently, Stories For People With Brief Attention Spans (1993) and Just Another Asshole: short stories (1995) (both from Greensleeve Editions), Collateral Damage (Coracle Press, 2008), and Sick Lazy Fuck (Black Bile Press, 2008). His poetry and fiction has most recently appeared in Sensitive Skin Magazine.
Heroin(e)
It is 2 a.m. Her teeth are splinters of bone lodged in her mouth. The way she grinds them creates a symphony of pain. Her eyes have the numb stare of someone in shock.
Moonlight crashing through her window has a metallic quality on which countless scores
of beasts — half-men, half-animal — enter her bed, one by one, suffocating her with
their weight, their razor claws forcing her legs apart, muzzles devouring the gaping
wound of her sex. It is 2:08. She opens her mouth to scream yet only a long silence pours
into the room. She cannot breathe. Inside her head are grey cavernous tunnels she is
running through. A maze of cavities she keeps running in circles, so fast she almost
catches up with herself: her past, her present, her future — almost within grasp. It is 2:15.
A rubber snake wraps around her left arm, tightens into a knot above her elbow. Two
spiked fangs plunge into her arm. Before they slip from her skin, she is airborne,
observing her body on the bed. It is 2:16. 2:16. 2:16.
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