..:: CONTENTS ::..

..:: POETRY ::..
Sarah Trott
Christopher Eaton
  Poems for Burning Down Black Ark
Jennifer Dearinger
  the cup having not been washed of the rifle under the bed
  indian head nickels
  crystal serving plate
  wrapped in the sheets
  dirtied knees from somewhere
  unscattered ashes
  JOSEPHY BEUYS, the day gurdjieff died
  Row Under Rivers
  Avant Garde Country of Contemporary Art
Jeffrey Schrader
  Ships in Bottles
  Deconstruction of V
  From “Pittsburgh Notes”
Noah Eli Gordon
  from Jaywalking the Is
David Applegate
  [A silent]
  [I don't know]
  [You juggled]
  [Our sky]
Lynn Strongin
  MOVED TO. . .
Amy King
  Leisurama Porn Couples Dance
  How To Make a Painting
Bill Stobb
  Poem for an American Barbeque
  I Truly Believe Bill Gates is a Good Person
Jason Fraley
Friedrich Kerksieck & Aaron James McNally
M. Mara-Ann
  A Running Horse Veiled
J.D. Mitchell-Lumsden
  (on air late sunday evening)
  (the women, an intercepted letter)
  (to us)
  (fatwa ii)
Lizzie Brock
  Work that Body
Jacob Eichert
  Untitled (film/dvd)

..:: PROSE ::..
Powell Burke
Michael Chacko Daniels
  Touch me? Vaya Con Dios inbound on the 22 Fillmore!
Sandra Hunter
  Take It Away
Paul Kavanagh
Paul Silverman
  Letter To B

..:: ETC ::..
  Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
  Volume I, Issue I
  Volume I, Issue II
  Volume II, Issue I


Friedrich Kerksieck & Aaron James McNally


"There are no odds to beat, no rules to set a limit
on bad luck." -Paul Auster

I am not making anything of anyone,
if anything I am unmaking. Trading
facts for ambiguous clouds. Dates of
births & deaths for rumors of arrivals
in the mist with different names
& the wakes of murder stains.
If anything, anyone is anyone, the making
& unmaking is as undistinguishable
as one cup of well water from the next.
Cadavers will float as well as the living,
face up or face down, & guns will
always drown in your lyric blood.

* * *

Poetryless, you would like nothing.
After 20 years, you have harbored nothing.

Past 72 jobs you have nothing.

A teenager's blood is nothing.

100 postcards signify nothing.

You are a? You are wondering nothing.





//   Advance   //