joe meno

hardcover of joe meno’s new novel

forthcoming july 2012

Dreaming of being eaten by a Lion.

“Lion’s Jaws” by Joe Meno

high five recommendations from joe meno

in the new issue of jettison quarterly

photo by david robert elliott

the secret society of alphonse f.

a new short story, excerpted from

the forthcoming novel office girl

published in the new arts journal the chicagoan

with art by paul hornschemeier

photograph by todd baxter of baxter photo

A bobcat wandered into a model home down the street, brutalizing a pretty real estate agent who claimed not to know it was wild. The animal sank its teeth deep into her left calve, her thigh, her right wrist, before the woman’s screams drove it back into the disintegrating, scant underbrush—hardly what anyone would call a wilderness. The story was all over the news for about a week. Dan saw it again on the television that morning, sitting at the kitchen table, finishing his breakfast, glancing up between spoonfuls of soggy grapefruit. The pretty real estate agent was being interviewed, holding up her bandaged wrist, smiling, not failing to mention her real estate agency’s name a number of times. Afterwards, Dan had to think twice before he walked out into the backyard, carrying the sizable bag of trash. The backyard—the numinous white pines, the damp grass, the shadows of unseen things—looked foreign now. Dan stood there for a few moments, taking it in. It was like the world had suddenly realigned itself to the shocking, irrational whims of nature. Actually Dan was pleased. It was kind of freeing. It was kind of like being a Neanderthal again.
from the short story "Human beings"
forthcoming in Avery Anthology

video

the last song of the last concert of the band guided by voices

artwork by c. s. neal

A bobcat wandered into a model home down the street, brutalizing a pretty real estate agent who claimed not to know it was wild. The animal sank its teeth deep into her left calve, her thigh, her right wrist, before the woman’s screams drove it back into the disintegrating, scant underbrush—hardly what anyone would call a wilderness. The story was all over the news for about a week. Dan saw it again on the television that morning, sitting at the kitchen table, finishing his breakfast, glancing up between spoonfuls of soggy grapefruit. The pretty real estate agent was being interviewed, holding up her bandaged wrist, smiling, not failing to mention her real estate agency’s name a number of times. Afterwards, Dan had to think twice before he walked out into the backyard, carrying the sizable bag of trash. The backyard—the numinous white pines, the damp grass, the shadows of unseen things—looked foreign now. Dan stood there for a few moments, taking it in. It was like the world had suddenly realigned itself to the shocking, irrational whims of nature. Actually Dan was pleased. It was kind of freeing. It was kind of like being a Neanderthal again.
from the short story "Human beings"
forthcoming in Avery Anthology