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Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Contact Information - April 2008

Jesse Carsten

Jeni Crone

Naomi Rhema Edwards

Mac Katter

Alyssa Martinez

Andrea Mattson

Marit Rogne -

Tyler Sherman

Wendy Spacek

The End of Symbiosis

Jeni Crone -

The End of Symbiosis

Tonsillitis-inflamed silence,
Snow-heavy branches threatened
By every exhale,
Thoughts calcified and consequently confettied
Under untied shoes,
Shoelaces tripping over feet today,
Blizzards dripping to echoes
Of the phone call made from the
Last existing pay phone.

My codependency spectrum
Accentuates the ultraviolet clinical catalysts typecasted as conflict.
An arthritic feeling sweaters the cavity that is
Rotting to a hollow disillusion
Graphed and climbing up the y axis.

Graffitied in vacuous tunnels of self-help brainwash,
The defiance that rusts me all the way down the fire escape,
Presses my cheek against the window of you
Walking barefoot at the scene of a broken light bulb,
Wanting to ask you to thread tree roots through me or
Simply to coexist.

A Prayer to St. Anthony of Padua and Sylvia Plath

Jeni Crone -

A Prayer to St. Anthony of Padua and Sylvia Plath

Confusion over how

Ornithologists and Pilots are two different species
is worth pondering, but 

The thought does not return

A continent to Elizabeth Bishop.

The middle of the day was 

A broken dinner plate.

Saturday slipped from

My hands, of accumulating layers of 

Chicago-winter and turpentine.

Describe water without words, without the wet, cold, hot, rain,
liquid, etc. words.

Umbrellas used to be made out of words, your words.

Watch the negative space that seems to grow bigger around the red suitcases,

The red amplified, 

The liquid charcoal sipped through a straw

Sinking to the bottom to absorb it all.

On the Brown Line, bricks and metal,

Transparent skin and melting snow,

The sum of the velocity of the train

And the propulsion of my thoughts,

Windows are never 

Safe to use as mirrors.

What if on the smallest sub-atomic level we were 

Only made of sound? And

Death is only recognizable by missing someone’s voice,

Watch the negative space grow until everything heard inversed to invisible. 

No one makes a t-shirt that says, 

“I spent 4 days in the psych ward and all I got was hospital socks.”

Try counting ten, nine, eight, backwards

Next time you lose yourself. Say a prayer

To St. Anthony.

the Underwater Powers

Tyler Sherman -

the Underwater Powers

Whiling away the hours
The underwater powers don't

Keep a floating head
Above the waters.

Despite the strength
Of lighter gasses

The rising turgid sludge,
It passes down the line

The weight and meter
Of the feeder, upriver

Like jingling keys
Along greased splines.

The weight that has
Been meted out was

No equity. And hence
Propound the piling

On top of ready piles,
Ready piles on the ground.

It's all around here
Now. It's ailing, aiming down.

Stay Strong Friends, Spring is on the Way

Tyler Sherman -

Stay Strong Friends, Spring is on the Way

Browning Grass
that they put in
before the final thaw.

Everyone re-closing
the storm windows
this morning,
because the wind's cold.

Go walking,
easing, down the iron
fence tops—stalking,
while Weather's

torsion's tearing
us apart.
Balance loosing
bearing. Take heart!

3:16 Wellington to Euston

Andrea Mattson -

“3:16 Wellington to Euston” 2008 Mixed media on paper.

California Mornings

Alyssa Martinez -

California Mornings

Thick on dry bread
sticks to the roof of my mouth.
Mint tea dissolves
stickiness to swallow.

Making One’s Mark

Tyler Sherman -

Making One’s Mark

Parking lot, after lot
After lot.

Somehow they say to me:
"We are your sons and daughters.

Our expanses are your legacy."
Every day they say to me:

"Brush off your snow."
Before the stain sets.

The body is hushed

Mac Katter -

The body is hushed

Cicero lays flat
You see houses and a church
But I say you cant hide a prairie
Dress it up all you want

The vast battalion of grass
Waits under the road
Like a landlord, flabby-armed
With a wooden spoon

A cats paw stuck to the rug


Marit Rogne -


You mustn’t stay up
my mother said when I was a child,
you do all your growing when you sleep and
now I’m done growing and I can’t sleep
because now that I’m done growing
what will happen
when I sleep?

Friday, January 16, 2009

Contact Infomation - March 2008

Naomi Rhema Edwards -

Alyssa Martinez -

Wendy Spacek -

At the Thought of You

Naomi Rhema Edwards -

At the Thought of You

I took bittersweet all the way down
To where the wall and the water
Grind together as flesh
And the gut-rot of fish
Makes heavy the air

The lake spits burst pods
Of algae against the breakers
The rock wreathed in black strands
Glitters with fish hooks

And I think how the hands
Wane in their sockets
And the nails bleach
Or go dark with blood

Light through waves
In dull spectrum spread
And splayed

The face shrinks to a relic
The eyes sink down
And I don't remember
And gentleness

Empty jaw of concrete takes
The fisherman and his quiet
'There it goes, swing low'

In is cold weather

Alyssa Martinez -

It is cold weather

Our sources are limited
and I am soundly asleep.

There is no god but
I am one of
a million gods.

I am not a god.

I am this one in a million.
I am one of millions.

In god I live
and soundly sleep.

Our resources limit to
fear of God, this
fear and living god.

God is on and only
of a million.

I am only a million
of millions. I am
godless in living. I am
sleepless in god.

I am only
millions of gods and fear.

The Small Light

Naomi Rhema Edwards -

The Small Light

White feet in low tides
Beheaded by light

And will we ever see
That cloudy man o' war
Take the shallows?

Mussels clasp rubble
A plastic fork snared
In red algae

We laugh at wet skin
Tinged by spreading dusk
The purple of guts

A small and burning light
That we only see later
From the balcony

We say, look at those kids
Chasing the last waves
Before the still night


Wendy Spacek -



I put a box
in a box
in a huge

In city.
On continent,
but if

these words
were made
so we could be
specific then

why can't I say
I mean
I mean it.


The layer of wind
the window pane.

The water
the water.

How do I tell
I am to be
I am to be it.

Things that go in the trash. (A List)

Alyssa Martinez -

Things that go in the trash.
(A List)

Banana peels. Used paper towels. Burned incense.
Nail clippings. Receipts. Used matches. Finished
chap sticks. Used light bulbs. Material scraps.
Dust. Sand. Boogers. Broken electronics. Small
paper scraps. Tampon wrappers. Food scraps.
Health insurance. Ugly rocks. Polaroid boxes.
Film canisters. Bad photos. Old photos you don't
want to look at. Old pasta. Hair from bathtub
or drain. Hair from haircuts. Draino bottles
(empty). Things you forget to recycle. Bottle
caps. Spit. Used condoms. Broken condoms.
Feathers. Toe nail clippings. Old paint tubes.
Old CDs. Broken CDs. Scratched CDs. Leaking
batteries. Used non-rechargeable batteries. Plastic
bottles (when you have nowhere to recycle them).
Phlegm. Pieces of string (usually short).
Torn nylons. Bloody bandaids. Pieces of flesh
(for various reasons). Rusted earrings. Shattered
glass. Uninteresting toys. Old underwear. Dead
pens. Broken brushes. Empty body product containers.
Dead glow sticks. Dead light bulbs. Broken dish-
ware. Vomit. Moldy food. Tupperware with moldy
food in it. Cracked tupperware. Broken hangers.
Expired condoms. Finished packets of birth control.
Over-steeped tea. Stained underwear. Stickers
that have no more adhesive. Stickers that no longer
apply to you. Q-tips (dirty). Seaweed. Leftovers.
Ends of candles. Old conversations. Used gauze.
Ice cream containers (empty). Used ice cream
containers with frost bitten ice cream in them.
Unlockable locks. Dried henna. Mud. Old crowns
that fall out. Dead bugs. Broken mirrors. Broken
or otherwise used guitar strings. Cat puke. Dirty
diapers. Things that were stuck between your teeth.
Dryer lint. Belly button lint. Coffee grounds.
Plastic containers merchandise comes in (the kind
that is impossible to open). Demolished dance
shoes. Rusty or otherwise unusable nails. Broken
hookah parts. Dating games. Cigarette butts.
Butts of pencils. Used swifer clothes. Orange
peels. Yogurt tops. Empty tooth paste containers.
Wrapping paper (ripped). False eyelashes. Cloth
with grease on it. Containers with grease in them.
Broken bike parts. Dried out air fresheners.
Allowances. Animal droppings. Things on the
beach shore. Passed Exams. Past. Mold. Liquefied
potatoes and otherwise inedible food. Broken
glasses (for eyes or drinking). Books on sex.

To be continued.


Wendy Spacek -


Wave your hand across
the window.
Press just on
the window.

The wind leans

Trees chime
on the sides
of the street.

your voice moves
from slight sleeping
to light waking

The Santa Anas stroke
your palms

The Treehouse

Naomi Rhema Edwards -

The Treehouse

You see, my foot went through this year
The soft spot, where the wood,
Black and full of beetle maggots,
Sinks down and is swelled.
Truthfully, the beetles now are husks
And the wet wood, dust.
The risen creek rots the bark off the trees
Burns red my feet, and the crayfish
Click their claws beneath the rock
Waiting for the pulp of a worm to flow by.

Heavy Globe

Alyssa Martinez -

Heavy Globe

I sit up in bed hot
with strange innovation
and I am not myself.

I have been put
in this self in
this bed and hot room.

If my feet are not cool
then overheated dreams
resolved only by awakening.

I am unclothed idea
may be a better self.

In bed my thoughts
confine belief and scientist.

The word was good in bed

Wendy Spacek -

The word was good in bed

To be horizontal
is to be as comfortable
as birds drifting through up

Or a soft,
soft river
in its river bed.

I have done things
I do not like
and so do them
no further.

What is time
and how ever will I find
the time
to fill it.

I collect this house
and then collect within it,
domestic miracles.

Onions that grow in a bowl with no water.

I communicate to them,
a higher form of language.
One coming from the corner of the mouth.
The crease of the lip.

Ten bright oranges sat
near a small amount of black.

Clementines swoon on the windowsill.

I grow from woman to infant
then divide.

See how this work in beauty
with glass.

Wet distances.
Tears and wormholes.