New World Order by Kip Knott

New World Order

When I wake up this morning, it dawns on me
that I haven’t heard from Normal in a while.

The last time Normal called, it was on summer vacation.
Somewhere in the Canadian Rockies quietly flyfishing,

if I remember correctly. I recall that it didn’t say,
“Wish you were here,” which, in hindsight, seems odd.

And now it’s been months without so much as a word.
No calls. No texts. Nothing. So I’m left questioning

everything. Like, where does that leave me?
Where does that leave Normal? Alone

in some liminal space between today and tomorrow?
Between what Normal used to be, whatever this new reality is,

and whatever Normal will be if it returns?
Did I ever really know Normal at all?

Will I even recognize Normal? Will Normal embrace me
with open arms, or will it say I’ve become abnormal

and report me to the authorities?
I try to calm down by losing myself

in the minutia of daily chores. I vacuum and dust.
I clean out the fridge of leftovers I always mean to eat

but never do. I even breakdown all the Amazon boxes
I’ve received over the last days and weeks, boxes
that were filled with all manner of products

I was too afraid to venture out of the house and buy
on my own. But as I begin knitting a scarf

to welcome Normal back, should it decide to return,
the newsfeed scrolling across my flatscreen highlights

events in the outside world: more executive orders;
more firings; more plans to rename this and take back that;

more news stories of blind eyes turned.
I snap off the TV, pack away my needles and yarn,

and shuffle off to bed. Perhaps Normal is better off
where it is, I think as I sink deeper into the dark

well of a pill-induced dreamless sleep. Perhaps
Normal should remain incommunicado

and untraceable for its own protection. Perhaps
“out of sight, out of mind” is best for Normal,

and me, at least for the foreseeable future.

*

Kip Knott is a writer, poet, teacher, photographer, and part-time art dealer living in Ohio. His writing has recently appeared in Bending Genres, Best Microfiction 2024, The Greensboro Review, HAD, Merion West, ONE ART, and The Wigleaf Top 50. His most recent book of stories, Family Haunts, is available from Louisiana Literature Press. You can follow him on Bluesky at @kiptain.bsky.social and read more of his work at www.kipknott.com.

Normal by Nathaniel Gutman

Normal

Hungry, Dad, she asked when she picked me up at the airport.
They spoiled me with an upgrade on Lufthansa,
polite, reserved flight attendants,
a chef with a Toque Blanche, inspecting a tiny guinea fowl breast,
carefully turning it skin-side down.
Hungry, I said.

She took me for pizza at a beachfront Tel Aviv restaurant.
Embraced by steamy air mixed with Mediterranean breeze,
I was instantly home.

Growing up here everything was crazy,
good-crazy but crazy,
and I always dreamt it would one day be normal.
I looked around, noisy, laughing, young people,
cool hair, designer t-shirts, loud music.
Is it finally a bit normal? I asked.

The war broke out the next morning,
a siren sent us to her saferoom.
We’re good here, she said,
even if there’s a chemical weapon attack,
except if it’s a direct hit.
Then, on TV, we saw the first images,
kids in the desert music festival
slaughtered by Hamas terrorists.

For a moment it looked almost normal, I said.
Looked, she responded.

*

Nathaniel Gutman is a filmmaker who has directed and/or written over 30 theatrical/TV movies and documentaries internationally, including award-winning Children’s Island (BBC, Nickelodeon, Disney Channel), Witness in the Warzone (with Christopher Walken), Linda (from the novella by John D. MacDonald; with Virginia Madsen). His poetry has appeared in The New York Quarterly, Tiferet Journal, Pangyrus, LitMag, Constellations, The American Journal of Poetry.