This is an epistolary book, a mode of writing quite popular in the 19th century, a form Dostoyevsky used for his first novel POOR PEOPLE, the book he wrote before he went to Jail for a decade. But it wasn’t POOR PEOPLE that got Dostoyevsky sent to Siberia; it was “conspiracy.” Though I doubt Ann or Kell will get thrown in the slammer because of this tome, it is conceivable that with a few changes in politics, along Reaganistic lines, they might be indicted for this conspiracy, this honesty & openness, and life-long iconoclasm that necessarily personifies a poet in these days & times. It is a fine day when one receives a dispatch from either of these two. Both are consummate letter writers. Annie’s most often are typed out in long narrative prose lines, laying on the page like a poem. Kell’s are also typed, and go on for 2 pages and sometimes 4-. Both dip into memories and present thoughts freely, rambling with untarnished sincerity. Both do their writing in the mornings, before work, sometimes before the sun comes up. — Mark Weber Continue reading
In Memory of Michael Pingarron and Paul Gleason Continue reading
This is an opportunity.
What’s our message?
Too many messages!
A little message won’t hurt…
Let us loiter together
& know one another…
by Harry Partch Continue reading
The inspiration for this Laundromat-themed issue came from David Cope’s poem As the dryers rolled. I had 3 of my own laundromat poems & figured it’d be a good idea for a collection. —David Roskos Continue reading
“Inclusion is always an option.” Beth Borrus said that.
“I urge you all to make magazines.” I said that. Continue reading
I don’t remember the reason we sat in front of Rite Aid that night. Someone needed a prescription filled. I do remember my mom banging her paims on the steering wheel, Asking, “Why did you ever become a writer?” “I don’t know mom. it was you and dad that bought me a desk for Christmas.” “That’s because your 6th grade teacher told us you had potential to be a professional writer. Not poetry, music and that other stuff.” She was visibly angry at the situation which brought us together. We were picking up pills for her husband Bob I now remember. It was the eve of his disappearance. Entering one hospital after another. Finally – allowed to rest – we surrounded Bob with the Lord’s Prayer. Such remembrance strangely triggered by a Leonard Cohen self-portrait – A drawing of his face – left lobe opened – in which he scrawled:
I never found the girl
I never got rich
– John Lunar Richey Continue reading
In memory of Ben Hiatt. I did write you some stuff about Ben Hiatt didn’t? He was the first guy who really believed in my poetry. Got me started on my magazine…DESPERADO. Anyway man, give him credit for that. Maybe I should dedicate it to all the folks who gave me a shot with my writing. There have been damn few over the years. All the “fugitive” publications. And I’m honored to have Kryss doing the cover. Ride Easy. — Kell Robertson, November 20, 2008 Continue reading
In Memory of my Sister Mary Beth Roskos & of our friend & fellow poet Dave Church, a pure product of America. Front a back cover photos by Donald Eng. Other photos found at flea market. —David Roskos Continue reading