This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
Nico Vassilakis' new book, PROTRACTED TYPE, a collection of vispo, is coming out soon from Blue Lion Press. Nico lives in Seattle where he works for Fantagraphics Books.
Karen Randall is an artist who works in the media of words, digital collage (both sound and visual), oil painting, and letterpress printing/artist’s books. She is the daughter of an astrophysicist & grew up playing with primitive computers, a very cool chemistry set from the 50s, building short wave radios and a telescope; she still loves to geek out with things both digital and mechanical. Her texts can be found online at EOAGH, TEXTSOUND, and COUNTERPATH ONLINE, printed matter include The Extruded Gilgamesh (a chapbook published by Peter Ganick), and she recently read at the Poetry Project at St. Marks. Her artist's books have been collected by
numerous colleges, institutions and private collectors including the Library of Congress. Images of her work can be seen on line at www.propolispress.com.
“These dreamer types” by Chris Piuma.
about agony being brain Court great heavy human meant nerve shape sober start there These these those those those three white young
fairies through dragged whizzes hundred beastly weather affairs sitting cracked expects sadness singing looking dreamer matters halting stories wedding seconds flowers couples
being which about along miles shark about there there under under would duets brave types claim words where bells under which could
heavy These Court great human brain white about those there agony sober meant these shape those nerve those start young three being
weather dreamer hundred beastly affairs whizzes flowers fairies halting looking through sadness sitting matters expects wedding cracked stories singing couples seconds dragged
about types miles shark there along which being words brave which would there claim under bells under where duets could under about
young sober meant human those there about brain agony white great these nerve three shape those Court These those start being heavy
couples sadness sitting affairs stories looking fairies whizzes through flowers beastly matters cracked seconds expects halting hundred dreamer wedding singing dragged weather
could would there there where brave being along which which shark claim under under under words miles types bells duets about about
Chris Piuma blogs about poetry at Buggeryville (buggeryville.blogpost.com) but spends most of his time studying dead languages.
reed altemus: Reed Altemus's work has appeared in the following magazines since 2002: Rampike (Canada), Offerta Speciale (Italy), Unarmed(USA), Open World (Serbia), Otoliths (Australia), Lost & Found Times (USA), Boxon (France), SCORE (USA), Signal (Serbia), Blackbox (USA), Moria (USA), Gestalten (USA), Blackbird (USA), Xtant (USA), fhole (Canada), Voce Piena (USA), Generator (USA), Letter Founder (USA), Communicarte (Brazil), Miniature Forest (USA), Arnyekkotok (Hungary) , Big Ode (Portugal), Wohnzimmer (Germany). In his spare time he enjoys ice cream and the Mekons.
Jim Leftwhich: poet, mail artist, and archivist currently organizing and participating in fluxus-related events and exhibits in roanoke, va, usa author of Dirt, Doubt, Sample Example, The Textasifsuch, Pulsing Swarms & Squiggly Diagonals, Myesis, Death Text, Shrimp Teeth, Trashpo and Art Bang collaborative works include Sound Dirt, with John M. Bennett, Acts, with John Crouse, iTopia, with Scott MacLeod, Telephone Poles, with Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, and Shadowed Truth, with Andrew Topel editor of the print magazines Juxta and Xtant (1994 – 2005) since 2005 editor of the blog zine Textimagepoem http://jimleftwichtextimagepoem.blogspot.com/
free doll inside – page one and two: -------Daniel f. Bradley
we say all we want is well-mannered whiny do-me queens accessorized with lick-spittle
every surface a resolve that i should become a student of coarse no one is ever arrested in fact the number one too much television low self-esteem disappointing grades and poor conjugal relations can just stop snowing any day now
go crazy with hunny hives and brains all that shit in her mouth with huge crops immortal hearts witch never wish bloom barbie can do indescribable things
Let me start by introducing myself. I was 13; my sister was 14, this particular winter. As I look back on it; the day I raped my mother for the first time, all those years ago, she got exactly what she deserved. It had been 2 years since my husband died and left me alone with a 13 year old son Alan and his older 17 year old brother Jake, Jake was staying home and going to college locally. I must hurry and get this all down on paper before it's too late. Hi there. My wife and
got your love muscle sucked off by vatican officials keep it under wrap there are no comments for this you can be the first to comment on this comment is moderated & does not accept all posts are monitored and any comments found to be abusive or offensive become so why not set yourself so flee
haven’t tried any manufactured fine latex sculpture of the goddess kali in pure gold strict numbered edition baby spice sad oh say you didn’t kabal secret sign symbol gone wild dna transforms next door reported that the house fucking disappeared
in an often overlooked perhaps even dull tweed-wearing realism romp through the valley which take it up slowly glacial pace down from the summit up to the street barricades
my soul flushed blood betrayed thirst and low grade philosophies most comprehensive morbid reflex erections dam debauchery uniquely handmade and crafted doll petite scarlet doll unnamed voodoo on the morrow was passed the awful boundary between life felt not deep
designed to give you instant gratification and a misdemeanor this uniquely eye ancient art and guilty pleasure man eating chomping through our beloved simulacrum those not firmly on the pulse of local news constantly malfunctioning majorly major ways this evening when we jerked and slowed into a complete coma
would love match my barbie spoiler nothing sharp destroyed fair child murderer murderer we’re famous and everyone thought our youngest daughter was adorable and a company started making dolls to flattered you know what i mean by replica accents of wonder and discovery and complete mimicry
had been married about 5 years when she confided to me one day that she and a friend from high school use to explore each other's tits and kiss when they were younger. The events in this are BASED on real events. It was a normal birthday for me. Bonnie decided she had better meet with Tyler’s friend Jimmy; to be sure he wouldn’t reveal their secret. Bonnie was a grandmother before she was 40. It was a Friday and my Mom had gone to bed at about 7.30pm. Okay, I
need a she-wolf for all the occasions when big-dog isn’t enough till proclamations every scar a star second name is nasty at times when men loving to taste the glories of horse oh cybele generous cybele with children heavy with obedience to pfizer we stroll in the milkshake yard
chimpanzee hardcore mystic plays to the brilliant sunshine wrought havoc in teen autumn wand dudes love each other and now i mean so what if they're slaughtering their infernal society kill off all the men and women forced to join in
we all get a shitty variety of stupid devotees getting their heads shaved before they perform in temple dedications or get to hockey camp spent shame felt days roaming her valleys
and we have certain games that he seems to have problems with and she was wanting things that fall under moved in together eat together sleep together and wake up
much as i want to forget vampire text implosion main tarot insult of the submissive command me and sometimes i completely accommodate a blurry photo and this sent me back to a leave it to beaver type family stronghold of valium for all ages and wanks in the building seven of swords goes for that kind of dick gig mirror arcana hot even for a second
Daniel F Bradley says
i live in Toronto with my girl friend and our child. i am listening to Ravel while i am work at my
day job.i have numerous books and such. i edit a little newsletter called fmachinery which prints
visual poetry. submission can be directed to firstname.lastname@example.org
John Moore Williams is a poet working in visual and verbal strains. He has authored three chapbooks so far: I discover i is an android (Trainwreck Press, 2008), writ10 (VUGG Books, 2008) and, with Matina L. Stamatakis, Xenophoria (forthcoming, 2009). Poems have appeared in such journals as Shampoo, Otoliths, BlazeVox, Turntable + Blue Light, The New Post-Literate and ditch, among others.
Better an egg today than a chicken tomorrow.
She’s wearing a trim black coat can’t take her dog on the escalator Problem before her graspable She drives at a reckless speed He isn’t the only one taking pictures Who’s that without green gloves These are intimate questions Those are secrets It excites her when later he removes her panties with scissors
Here is the pencil. There is the pen He prefers small-breasted women I have small feet You throw a great party I should say you give one Her hot chocolate isn’t hot enough Problem doesn’t phase her makes sure she walks in the middle We all have the same expression
The dignitary receives a key wears a little hat in case of rain The subject can be a person Now they propose he wait—motor idles windows up, much prefers riding trains, subways anything on a track Be careful how you cross little running-tiptoe conversations
The gate opens. The car enters They might hurt her take this opportunity to warn Many crouch, many run Form a question using the future Or a phone will beep I feel cornered in the open Children makes faces Change machine spits an excess of quarters Her bra unhooks
Keep your broken arm inside your sleeve.
I bleed bright white Whales lost in the shipping lane Beware what crawls out of the sea He uses the remote to pop the trunk Face of little puzzles Can’t trust me I feel cornered in rooms Squirrels might chew through the wire Children beg to ride the scariest ride Chimney collapses Look where you’re walking Beware what crawls Things grow at night
Face of little puzzles Tear your cookie to pieces I feel cornered in rooms A little noise makes Children beg to ride the scariest ride She’s a big one for hard-boiled eggs Pull it Look where you’re walking I bleed bright white Things grow at night Baby awake Tear your cookie to pieces Squirrels might chew Pull it Chimney collapses
Jane Rice says
In all my poems I seek to create a tension between coincidence and the expectation of
sequence. The mind yearns to find meaning in the connections of things. Yet we ascribe meaning only to a fraction of the coincidences that surround us. An earlier version of “Better an egg today than a chicken tomorrow.” was first published in viviparous blenny, volume one, 2008. My poems have appeared in various journals including Barrow Street, Diner and viviparous blenny. Many have been posted on various Web sites. A letterpress edition of Portrait Sitters was published by Propolis Press, 2007. Line Drawings was a finalist in the Center for Book Arts chapbook competition, New York, 2007. Crayfish Tale, a book-length manuscript, was a finalist in the Colorado Prize for Poetry,
2005. I live in San Francisco and pursue my interest in poetry, art, and art history.
fol low ing
th ro u gh
th ro u gh
to the sea
to the is lands
to the sea
a s leep
a s leep
with the is lands
a s leep
rarefy rarefy this that
Wounded side wounded side
soft wounded side
soft wounded side
soft melting side
soft melting wound
tender wounded side
Stephen Nelson was born in Motherwell, Scotland in 1970. He blogs visual, minimalist and found poetry at http://afterlights.blogspot.com. He lives in a tower block but would really like to live by the sea.
intrudes greet intrudes egret nudist regreet nudist greeter dustin regreet dustin greeter insured getter sueding tertre sueding terret deserting ture integers trued gentries tured gentries trued teentsier drug sternite urged steiner trudge interest urged entries trudge tines gertrude stein gertrude tinted resurge endite rutgers ringed trustee reigned utters reigned truest reeding utters reeding truest grinder suttee engird trustee reined gutters renig trusteed reign trusteed niger trusteed dentures tiger untested irreg sunder tergite nursed tergite detergents uri sender guttier resend guttier
deserting true reinserted tug reinserted gut interested rug ingested truer insetted urger resigned utter redesign utter grinders tutee designer utter senti gertrude inset gertrude singer uttered signer uttered resign uttered reigns uttered nigers uttered siren guttered serin guttered risen guttered nereid gutters denier gutters uttering seder uttering reeds uttering reeds uttering deers trueing rested trueing desert nuttier edsger ungirt steered enders guttier denser guttier resurgent tied resurgent tide resurgent edit resurgent diet entrust edgier stunt greedier ensure gritted entrees turgid
resined gutter singed utterer signed utterer seeding turret design utterer deigns utterer trusteeing red trusting deere intrust degree reusing retted rinse guttered resin guttered reins guttered singe turreted sengi turreted untried greets untried egrets intrude greets intrude egrets untied regrets ungirt reseted turing steered turing reseted truing steered truing reseted rutting seeder rutting reseed treeing rusted treeing rudest treeing duster tenured tigers tenured tigers denture tigers denture tigers tuned register nudger testier gerund testier detergent uris tender gutsier rented gutsier
ruins gettered stringer etude steering tured steering trued resetting rude reseting tured reseting trued integers tured integers trued integers tured united regrets ruined getters ruined getters inured getters inured getters deterring suet trendier guest tinder gesture interred guest tinged reuters retting reused integer rusted integer rudest integer duster trine gestured triene trudges niter gestured inter gestured inert gestured entire trudges urgent dieters tureen stidger tuner digester tenure stidger neuter stidger tun registered nut registered regent studier regent dustier green detritus
genre detritus. Karri Kokko (b. 1955) is a Finnish poet living in Helsinki, Finland. He has published several collections of poems and works of conceptual writing. His next book, Töllötin, a recount of what he saw and heard watching television during 99 sessions, will be out in June by ntamo.
A review of “T=I=D=Y language”
ƒ Bradley, outlands Eight, 2008)
When I first received this book in the post from Daniel (with a load of other interesting poetic goodies), I was first impressed by the cover design, all gleaming white and interestingly textured, with an asterisk as a symbol below the title, almost like a safety sign. You can imagine it on the door of an electrical generator. It also resembles a puckered arsehole. This is appropriate, considering that some of the content is sexual. Some people may find some of the imagery in this book shocking but , for me at least, it is a positive shock. The kind of thrill you get when reading good poetry. And it is very good poetry. Disparate thoughts and streams of consciousness flow together fullstopless, banging together, making sparks! The use of language is tactile, almost bodily; the references to body parts and fluid abound, jangling with other images with little regard for conventional syntax structures. Words and phrases intermingle together, ideas merging and then splitting off, shooting away at odd angles. It is not always clear where one poem ends and the other begins, but for all its disjunctedness it has a feeling of being a whole in an strange sort of way. The use of language ranges from the profane to the witty, feeling collage-like. The reference to L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poetry in the title of the book is an appropriate one, as you can certainly see the influence of that movement in the works within. The way he subverts the conventional notion of a narrative for example, though this is a feature of most non-mainstream contemporary, non-visual poetry.
Sometimes, when reading linier poetry, I read it out loud to myself. With these poems it was slightly difficult. This may however be my dyslexia making me struggle to read the long sentences out loud. Who knows? This is not actually a bad thing, just an observation. I think this is a very good book. It is certainly a welcome addition to my collection of books of poetry. I highly recommend this book. It’s because I think this book is really worth reading. Buy a copy. You’ll like it.
Through the chink in the Fence
through the chink in the fence-a strip of sky & earthen wall-in what faraway land among hostile forests-to sit in someone else's room among books not mine & write about the sky
to pen ghosts' writings, take dictations
of phantom songs the untold, the unwritten hidden in plain sight
David-Baptiste Chirot b. lafayette, indiana, usa. grew up in vermont.lived & worked in arles & paris, france, wroclaw, poland, hastveda, sweden,boston and milwaukee last 15 years. essays and 200 pieces at davidbaptistechirot.blogspot.com and google search for essays, poetry, visual/sound/performance works and reviews and interviews. work has appeared in more than 70 journals in 14 countries, 6 anthologies, 7 books, 2 chapbooks and over 300 Visual Poetry and Mail Art exhibitions in countries the world over. He works "with a profound faith in the found which is everywhere hidden in plain sight."
Michael Jacobson is a writer and artist from Minneapolis, Minnesota USA. He has two books published: The Giant's Fence and Action Figures. Besides writing books , he curates The New Post-Literate: A Gallery of Asemic Writing. Currently, he is busy dreaming up a new book.
For those who want to print this issue out and make it a print zine, this is the back cover:
Finish. Don’t bother reading this page. There’s nothing on it.
This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
We've moved you to where you read on your other device.
Get the full title to continue reading from where you left off, or restart the preview.