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Taylor Mignon. Photo by John Mancuso.
Taylor Mignon’s first book of poems, Japlish Whiplash, is available from the author (2,000yen/$20.00). Orders receive the companion book of collaborations as a gift. Contact taymig “at” gmail “dot” com
What projects are you currently working on?
Vou Visual Poetry Anthology, with Karl Young of Light and Dust BooksIam afraid i have really slowed down this project. I wanted to finish my own book first, and next is a book of translations from the modernist Torii Shozo, disciple of Kitasono Katue, who was also a Vou Club poet. Thats coming out next year, 2011.
» Continue reading An Interview With Taylor Mignon by David Hoenigman…
INTERVIEWS An Interview With Linda Bubon by Daniel Duffy An Interview With Aaron Burch by Timmy Waldron An Interview with Steve Erickson by Daniel Duffy An Interview With Taylor Mignon by David Hoenigman An Interview With Peter Schwartz by Timmy Waldron
BOOK REVIEWS Man’s Companions by Joanna Ruocco
FLASH FICTION The Beige Futon by Greg Gerke Maternus by Michelle Reale Check Engine by Mark Reep
NOVEL EXCERPTS Bliss Inc. by Ron Burch Not for All the Mayo in Western Pennsylvania by Chris Zappone
STRETCHING FORMS The Women and the Men by Gary Percesepe
POETRY Midway Women’s Bowling League by James
» Continue reading July 2010 Issue…
Listen to a podcast of Chris Zappone’s “Not for All the Mayo in Western Pennsylvania.”
MY FATHER IS IN THE HOTEL ROOM extorting someone on the phone. We – my wife Mariane, our daughter Tessa and I – listen as he works the client, using his powers of conviction to extract money from the man on the other end of his cell phone. “I tell you,” my father says, his voice brimming with confidence, his tone bright with belief, “You won’t make the change in your life, until you’re fully committed to the change. Whether it’s money or it’s happiness
» Continue reading Not for All the Mayo in Western Pennsylvania by Chris Zappone…
I learned to knit
to give my hands
a hobby.
My project
remains untouched –
stitches dropped
and picked up again,
loose ends and frayed string. I can
barely lace the yarn and needle.
These hands are knotty,
untamed tree roots
buckled in flirtation,
ready to pierce through
the skin, re-plant
in another, capture.
Bones a pile of eager love
crippled in disguise.
The days of youth
afraid of forgetting: these
are already fragile hands. Who
will love them when they are older?
Who can carry them when
it’s painful to fold them in prayer?
Who will wear this miserable
» Continue reading Arthritis by J.R.Bouchard…
Listen to a podcast of Kirsty Logan’s “Let Us Compare Mythologies.”
Every nightin the bathwith a glass of cheap redand my skin scalded cherryI read my father’s old copyof Leonard Cohen’sPoems 1956-1968
not because I lovevictim kitestheoretical angelssmoky filigree cagesand Queen Victoria’s musty-petticoated skin(though I do);
but becausethe margins sayjosephine – medicine 1971-72hazel 3.3.73anne without the e, 1974susan brown, my love, jan 75.
my mother’s name is Eleanor. they married in 1978.
About the author:
Kirsty would like to let you know that her name is not Kristy or Kirsten. She lives with her girlfriend in Scotland, in a
» Continue reading Let Us Compare Mythologies by Kirsty Logan…
The morning of. Through the window, the groan of the boatrelaxing in the sunshine, and a voice that beats like hellat the door of the brain, like a mother-in-law in a parableby Flannery O’Connor. See you how you feelwhen you’re five hundred, he mutters, inflating the covers, brushing the bony hand of death from his shouldersand adding monkeys to chickens. Subtracting brothers. In the wet palm of drool on the pillow, a facetells him to practice. His beard is an ark that hoversabove the sighing sea of his chest, cracked and staleas a box of saltwater crackers. The philosophyof God
» Continue reading Noah, Pulling the Blankets Over His Head by Colin Pope…
ONE The sun always moves.
The Greyhound bus pulled into the lot. As I quickly maneuvered into the narrow aisle with the other passengers, a rather overweight woman, squeezed into a much-too-tight sundress, wide-hip-bumped me from behind. The woman was so huge, so magnanimous in her culinary habits, that she overflowed into the aisle, her bulk blocking the aisle’s width, her flesh threatening to overcome the frightened tourists in the adjacent seats who retreated, clutching torn seat backs and flattening themselves against the dirty windows, to avoid the surging tsunami of flesh. The doors wheezed open, and the line began to
» Continue reading Bliss Inc. by Ron Burch…
The next morning, you picked my cough drop off the bedspreadwhere it had stuck, dried, after I coughed it out like a bullet. I’d thought last night, while I was coughing, This would be a lousy way to die, a lodged cough drop keeping my old pal, the brain, from his friend, oxygen. And you this morning, just now, after being wracked with coughing, said you’d thought the same thing, how the cough drop could kill you. But here we are together, in the morning, both alive, both breathing pretty well, considering, enjoying the fresh sunlight coming through the blinds about noon, glad at this morning of our
» Continue reading The Wife & I on Cough Drops by John Philip Johnson…
Listen to a podcast of James Benton’s “Midway Women’s Bowling League.”
We didn’t call him “Stinky” yet; that came aftershore patrol shut the drunken picnic downand he chose to dash naked acrosseight lanes of hardwood, dodgingsniper fire bowling balls, women shootingat this pink and fuzzy arcade target scamperingout the back door where Sanders wassupposed to be with the clothes but wasn’tand the next move hadn’t quite been planned, so he improvised, flappingbare feet on concrete slapping, before the women howling, before the sirens closing in, before-thinking naked was a jokeand failing to plan ahead-he jumped the levee into the muck,
» Continue reading Midway Women’s Bowling League by James Benton…
Steve Erickson is the editor of Black Clock, one of America’s leading literary journals. He has written for Esquire, Rolling Stone, Spin, Details, Elle, San Francisco, Bookforum, Frieze, Conjunctions, Tin House, Salon, the L.A. Weekly, the Los Angeles Reader, the Los Angeles Times Magazine, and the New York Times Magazine, as well as several other literary journals and magazines, and his work has been widely anthologized. He is the author of eight novels: Days Between Stations (1985), Rubicon Beach (1986), Tours of the Black Clock (1989), Arc d’X (1993), Amnesiascope (1996), The Sea Came in at Midnight (1999), Our Ecstatic
» Continue reading An Interview with Steve Erickson by Daniel Duffy…
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