Congratulations to Judith in the North!  She’s the winner of the March $100 Poegles Challenge.  Who can argue with a poegle that turned up the phrase “catgut ecstasies”?  Our first Canadian poegler, today we’re flying the maple leaf.

Want to get in on the action?  Each month award $100 to a poegler for the best crafted poegle.  We accept poegles of any length and in any form, provided that they are in English.  In order to be entered to win, poeglers must register for the newsletter, and provide us with copy by noon EST on the date of the contest deadline.  Poeglers must also supply the search phrase they used to generate the poegle, as well as a mailing address to which the cash award can be sent.  Participants grant to rights to publish their poegles, per our terms.

Send us your poegles!  The April 2009 Poegles Challenge is open until noon EST on April 30th, 2009.  Please email your poegles to

The best poegles will be placed on the website and shared in our newsletter.  Please include your name and the search phrase that you used to generate your poegle.

March winner: Judith in the North for Don’t Flash That Light Anymore, Honey

February winner: Jamie in Brooklyn for At the Edge of the Park.  

January winner: Julie in DC for You Are Entering.  

Here’s this months’ winning poegle:

Don’t Flash That Light Anymore, Honey

To Peter Scowen

Let’s break out the world’s tiniest violin, play the world’s saddest song,
and find you have known of freedom’s glory; shake me again and wake me
from this frozen slumber with technique to burn. Look at you, Fleeting Star!

The world ain’t a ghetto. The Lady’s Burning Man-issued name is “Sublimity,”
after the tiny mountain unto the flash-frozen cool of wiseass byplay
and the catgut ecstasies burning against her through her . . .

A burning building, people trapped inside. She saw the clean. Sun flash
the open clasp for flash revolution as cities burn, from first to last, Saintly Stone …
Hellions throwing fuel on the fire, laughing, “They are just some pieces

of flash fiction that I scrap most of the times and forget it rained burning
needles in the dark.” Have you heard the frozen seas on the dark unpainted night?
Burning so restless within me. Within you. Making us one, frozen tears

and dead promises. Without your light . . . An ear-splitting roar issues, meets
with an accidental death, while string pearls and light cuts through your head.
You search for clarity, cannot find frozen winter shift laughing at weakness.

Be like a cottage on a moor, a covert from the wind, burning fire and open door;
they laugh and flash, and leap and spire; and, toss ten thousand suns.
The earth is dark, with frozen eyes, a flash of teeth, white-folded in her shroud.

Judith from Canada (search phrase: “flash frozen” + “burning violin”, ignorning results related to “Dance Me To The End Of Love”)


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