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CONTENTS
curated by
Evan Karp
featured artist
Maricruz Mendoza | instagram.com/mrczmndz
FIVE OCLOCK
IN THE AFTERNOON
9
thing: Act like it was normal. Act like it was normal
to make a game of catch out of throwing a ball to
somebody, without saying a word. They didnt need to
know otherwise. It could be normal, anyway. Not the
catch, but the assumption. The assumption that what
is in you is in me. It was easy to tell with catch. We
tried to remember what else that applied to. Without
making a point of it.
10
a ball up and down and standing in one spot. Even
then, Im afraid. It is abundantly clear at five oclock
in the afternoon.
One thing that seemed true at that time was that small
gestures could articulate a life story. We felt satisfied
with the size of everything, including the yard itself,
which was small enough that there was a good chance
the ball would go over the fence and out into the
street if we played kickball. If it did, well, there was
the adventure of going to get it. Out in the street, men
and women would be coming home from work, and I
would sure hope it was true that insight into children
gave you insight into people.
They were people, after all. They fought and they argued
and they cried, sometimes even at five oclock in the
afternoon. That was one of the freedoms of that time
of day. I would try to use the hour to my advantage
in settling disputes, trying to approach them with an
air that said, look, its a nice world sometimes, lets try
to follow that example with each other. But it would
have to be subtle. Nobodys feelings withstood getting
Si a ma k Vossou gh i 11
looked over. You couldnt laugh and say, its just
childhood, and the sun is out, and the tree growing in
the neighbors yard looks very nice from here. You had
to treat the time like it could be the setting of a great
injustice, which it could.
12
We know that an act of kindness is fleeting. We know
that our joy and our ease and our appreciation for the
fog or the sun are fleeting. Who would we be if we let
that hold us back?
How else can you explain the look in the eye of the
mothers and fathers when they come to pick up their
children from the schoolyard? Do they look like
people who know what they want to hear?
Si a ma k Vossou gh i 13
had gone to the moon, but I couldnt help it: I felt
more proud of the people whod brought the moon to
them, and that just happened to be the way I hoped
I would always dreama couple of steps away. So
that everything we were today would be included in
the dream. It wouldnt have to escape or eliminate
anything.
14
PPPPPPPPP
PPP
S H U T I N, SE N T O U T
15
get a handle on things, reap the rewards of solitude
and study, feel the movement of your breath, get ready
to touch life with less quivering, less fever. But you
stepped out, you put on the coffee. You should know
one of the primary effects of caffeine is a sense of a
future, a sudden burst of reassurance that there is a
future, that improvements follow disappointments.
You think of the transcendent and consoling aspects
of the natural world and ask yourself what lust is
doing there hovering around you none too subtly after
five years of deemphasizing the subject, analyzing its
unproductive contribution to your time here on earth.
My dear boy, there may be the red rocks of Arizona;
but there is also Cathys red dress slipping off under
that big sky. The landscape without the loosening
outfit is a fishnet stocking too far, a canyon too lonely.
16
other Sams, one whos a real regular, and a funny
guy to boot. That doesnt stop her; she continues to
address him excitedly, because we believe in the power
of our personal enthusiasms, assume them to be
contagious. The bartender is patient but tired. Maybe
his enthusiasm consists of getting the hell out of this
bar and going home to his girlfriend, his boyfriend, his
cat, whatever. He has listened to the pronouncements
of too many drunks; whatever the subject matter, it all
sounds the same, but he remains polite, that being an
essential part of his job description. You, on the other
hand translate the same presentation differently. For
you, her excitement is a sign of life, vibrancy, hope. It
is not sleep, or the wish to be closeted away, to stay
beneath the covers, to never rise. Everything about it
says: Im awake, now make it worth my while. And
you want to, but how? Youd tried all that before;
isnt that why you left? And the girl herself is the
exuberant owner of yet another interpretation: that
the bartenders politeness is his concealed lust, that
he aches to know her. That he is just waiting to burst
out of that constricted but beautifully formed upper
body of his, one that appears to come with its own
gym membership; lift her off that barstool, carry her
into the well appointed cave of his now fully realized
desires. And her conviction is impressive, her need is
palpable. Look how she operates the vehicle of her
speech with such gusto. Observe, at your peril, the
manner in which a silky blue dress drapes over her
medium sized frame, an adornment dropped over her
body by conspiratorial forces, from above or below,
P e t e r Bu lle n 17
who can say, that both conceal and remind you of her
nakedness. A cruel paradox, and a reminder you were
hoping had turned to shadow, a dreamy diaphanous
subset of a substance you believed you wanted to be
free of, when you were tucked away. You ask yourself
why everything is being proffered to the bartender,
what is it about the disinterested that has them on the
receiving end of all the good offers? You must act, you
must raise yourself from your observation post. She
can take no pleasure in the mad focus of your glance
if she doesnt even know youre looking. Through your
endless multiplicity of fears you deprive her, as well as
yourself. That is all you have ever done. Come out from
behind the curtain. Stand up and begin the great walk.
It is said to start with a single step. You will worry that
people are watching, snickering at the nervous nature
of your gait, placing bets quietly off to the side on the
timing of your next fumble. You mustnt be deterred.
You must dance as if no one is looking. Go to her. She
is crying out, isnt she? And what else are we here for
but to wail unto one another secretly? Im sure you
are aquatinted with all that business about quiet lives
of desperation. Get noisy. Reach for your inner lyric.
The night is young, the sound of a dirge is far off in the
distance. And, damn it, you know who Samuel Beckett
is. You make it across the room. Youre standing right
beside her, she could feel your breath if she were so
inclined, but she is oblivious. You feel like a soldier
stationed at her side. Thats weird. Now people must
be looking. You tap her on the shoulder like you would
someone whod cut in front of you in a grocery line.
18
She turns around startled, for a second you think she
might topple into your arms. She puts her hand on
your chest for balance. God it feels great having her
hand there. And for support no less. Consider the
symbolism. You are her foundation, her anchor. You
are so grateful life offers such things, even if this is the
first time it has. You think you should draw up a list
of other once-in-a-lifetime moments to be grateful for.
Wheres your notebook when you really need it?
P e t e r Bu lle n 19
nowhere, taps me on the shoulder, is staring at me right
now like Im the hot fudge sundae he was deprived of
throughout the tragic totality of his gloomy childhood,
if I make a choice like that, where the hell does that
end up?
She gets off the stool, takes your hand, walks you out.
You are trying to stop, pause, and think for a minute.
Once outside, she grips your arm, stares into your eyes
sternly.
Its been five years since Ive gone home with a man.
Which makes this an anniversary date of sorts. Dont
screw it up.
20
NNNNNNNN
NNN
M AKIN
G L OVE AFTER Y E A R S
-Lamour nest peut-tre
que la reconnaissance du plaisir.
balzac, pere goriot
21
LOVE POEM WITHOUT LOVE
They say
were stronger
at the places that went bust,
long ago, but maybe
we are only harder there, tougher,
more wiry, matted, set
in our ways.
Whats fleeting
is the light moment
of wholeness
we might have shared, tender
heart beat against
heart beat.
your mouth on mine.
However
My skin
is sentimental. It remembers
your skin fondly
more than fondly
What can I say
that doesnt sound like
moonlight
on a moonless night?
22
BRIDGE STORY
Norma Smi t h 23
Is it the danger of earthquakes and tsunamis that
compels a manwhom I dont know well but with
whom I was prepared to spend a pleasant evening and
then return, as had recently become our somewhat
tentative custom, either to his house or mine till
morningto regale me with what his therapist has
told him about the connection between his sexual
function and the night? I dont know, but I am
beginning to discern a pattern: the bridge is bad for
my sex life; its bad for building relationships. This has
nothing to do with me, I tell myself. Its something like
a 50-minute hour: we might never take up where we
left off, but the words accumulate with all the other
food for thought that we digest over the intervening
week. High above water. Polluted water that sparkles
in the dark and laps around the pedestals of the bridge.
24
disgust me, anyway? This mans willingness to put me
through the rehearsal of what might or might not turn
into a fine piece of theater, if it were played out on
an oak-planked stage and not in the ergonomically
correct front seat of a modest Japanese car? Or my
own gullibility? Im a sucker for Possibilities. I used
to think I was a pretty good judge of characters, but
lately, not so much.
Norma Smi t h 25
get to the theater. He was trying, he assured me, to be
honest. (Later, we were both stricken ill by what we
had eaten or by what we said or didnt say.) During the
meal my companion used so many euphemisms that
as it turns outI never did understand what he was
trying to tell me. Or not tell me.
26
pathetic psychiatrist. He would not come home with
me after that. Seemed relieved when I let him out.
Norma Smi t h 27
KKKKKKKK
KKKK
SHE WANTS
Call me when you need the one who can dance you
into a frenzy and then to sleep / Hush / Call me
when you want to know how the animals got their
courtship rituals / How the mothers learned to eat
their mates and raise their young
29
under and rise up like post-glacial rebound / Promise
you never had body like this before / This is that
persistent, dateless, imperishable shit, like maybe
nothing existed before it
30
ZZZZZZZZZZZ
ZZZ
99 PR OBLEMS
Lazy
Fat
Capitalism/the patriarchy
Insecurity
Poverty
This mole on my neck
Thinning hair
Too quick to make a joke
Too slow to laugh
Too bored to care
Too busy to notice
I dont make real human connections that seem to
last
Cant finish anything
Cant start anything worth finishing
Dont believe in hope
Dont get angry enough at the things I need to get
angry at
Yell at my kids
Ill die penniless and alone
Dont like to dance
Can only sorta swim
Spell certain words wrong still even though I
know I know them
31
Havent exploited my white male privilege enough
Think Im the smartest guy in the room
Smoke too much weed
All out of weed
Dont drink enough
Afraid to take chances
Lost my edge
Lost my nerve
Lost my keys more times than I can count
Trouble parallel parking sometimes
Always pick the wrong check-out line at the store
Dont use enough sensory imagery in my poems
Addicted to cheese and sugar
Cant pick a favorite color
All of the sudden old without learning the lessons of
youth
Have a pretty big chip in this one back tooth
Rely on rhythm and rhyme too much of the occasions
I criticize artists more than I create art
I make fun of people because I was made fun of as a
kid
Room is a mess
Constantly broke
I dont know how to make solid relationships with
people last
Never learned how adults are supposed to interact
with other adults
Feel like an imposter most of the time
Feel like everyone else saying they feel the same as
me is really everyone else mocking me
Lose my train of thought mid example
32
Dont perform proper maintenance in a timely
fashion
Stay up too late
Drink too much coffee
All talk and no trousers
hypocrite
Full of shit
A liar
A Cheat
A fool
Im sorry I got you into this
Sorry about everything
Dont take responsibility for my actions
Say hurtful things
Sabotage potential relationships by every means
possible
Dont know how to share
Think Im special
Think Im unique
Think I deserve happiness
Not willing to put in the work
Never trained my dog fully
I have to watch my fingers when I type
Nobody takes me seriously when Im being sincere
Nobody gets me when Im being sarcastic
Nobody lets me be down on myself when I deserve it
when I want it
People are afraid to hurt my feelings or they exploit
my gregarious manner
I use words like gregarious as if I know what they
mean when I only sorta do
Ze ph i r O'Me a ra 33
Obsess over the tiniest forgotten interactions with
some people
Im a total copycat
Every relationship Ive been part of has eventually
fallen apart
I over use self deprecating humor trolling for compli-
ments
I hate when people compliment me
Say the absolute worst thing at the incredibly
wrongest time ever
No fashion sense
Need to read more books
Probably boring you by now
Take things too far
I dont know when to stop
No self control
No consideration for the feelings of others
Easily distracted
Repeat myself
Not listing the things here Im most ashamed of
I mansplain
I micro-aggress
Im an enabler
Scared of how futile life seems sometimes
Alone and I feel like I deserve it somehow
I push people away
Sunburn easily
Dont have a redemptive high note to end on
Dont know what to do next
Havent got a clue
34
STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
Ze ph i r O'Me a ra 35
Your love is free verse
Your love is 433
Your love is classic VW bug engine
Your love is evaporating dew
Your love is train whistle in the night
Your love is headlights in the rain
Your love is grease fire
Your love is man on the moon
Your love is waiting
Your love is watching
Your love is on fire
Your love is smoldering
Your love is ravenous
Your love is insatiable
Your love is deserving
Your love is escaping
Your love is always the last place you look
36
SS SSSSSSSSSSS
SS
S SS S
B E A U TI F U L R O U N D
FULL M O O N
37
AAAAAAAAAA
AAA
DOES STEVIE WONDER
GET STAGE FRIGHT?
40
and sweaty and expectant. So many couples. I wonder
what would happen were I to touch one of the hand-
holding men or women on the arm and ask: Are you
happy? Really?
Totally, I say, and kiss him. Fact is, I havent been able
to figure out whats going on inside me forwell, a
long time. Lets leave it at that.
Who?
Smartass.
42
whether thats about his set list or how much money
hes raking in or who hes going to bang after the show.
45
through the flooded streets,
sometimes leaving it when he could not wade,
blowing deep heavy breaths to defrost his glasses.
I imagine, on my own,
that they saw countless others at the theater,
nestled with their loves
cold against the summer wind,
and waited, strange and together in the night.
46
JJJJJJ
JJJJJ
W E D D IN G G A R D E N
47
- SET 2 -
JJJJJJJJJJ
JJJ
HI N G E
49
White cranes. A dragon. A leaping tiger.
Looks like a rock to me, I say.
Thats zen for you, he replies.
Chrysanthemums. Pine cones. Red clouds.
A sake cup.
We play hanna fuda with patches of his skin.
Yakuza flowers match up.
Hannami, he laughs, sake under the full moon,
under the cherry blossoms.
But I have the rain series.
50
into the shadow of the temples.
A temple is a joining, he says.
But what about the tourists? I ask.
We who are dead enjoy certain privileges, as
his dark hands move down.
His statue watches, seated between an ancient enemy
and a Buddha. The ghost of Tokugawa Ieyasu says,
Welcome to my peaceful home. His hands part my
thighs,
on the arch of Mountain Gate.
High above Kyoto, incense rises.
Are you sure? I whisper.
A gong sounds twice, a drum once, in the mist.
His tongue flickers twice,
once.
In Japan, when we come,
we go.
His tongue flickers, catches drops of moons blood.
Im fading... Then where are we going? I demand.
Watash-tachi wa doko ni ikimas ka?
...like a ghost. To Kyoto. To Tojin. Toji. Joshoji.
Shokokuji.
Ja i da Sa mu dra 51
M MMMMMMMMMMM
M MM MM
STANDING OVULATION
53
My body is a trap waiting to be sprung. (smash) My
spring is awakening. (smash) My juices are flowing,
(smash) my cream is curdling, (smash) I am self-
fertilizing. (smash) I am impregnating myself with
possibility. I will give birth to myself.
54
JJJJJJJJ
JJJ
ICARUS FLE W
The car feels heavy right out of pit lane. The suspension
wont load, the power slams on uncontrollably, and
Im driving around the track scared at 110 miles per
hour, wondering what the fuck Im doing here.
55
turned in too early and added power too late; the car
slides two wheels into the grass exiting the turn. I lift
off power, drive it back onto the track, coast through
seven and set up turn eight. Im on power but tracked
out late; turn nine, I dial in and come out hot.
56
for putting a titty-bar/church/gun shop together, but
she doesnt get the jokethinks Im making fun of
her, which Im not. So, I tell her Im gay and not trying
to come on to her, just trying to make conversation,
but that makes her angrier. Im still trying to explain
my joke to the bouncer she signaled when he quite
literally picks me up and throws me out the front door.
Joh n Panze r 57
Im proud of that, but Im remembered years later now
as the guy that crashed on a pace lap; before the race
even started.
58
whisper inside oh no, I dont want to go, and swim
your spirit back down into your body.
I flew!
Joh n Panze r 59
with the monks that feels safe. I take out my feelings
for a test drive. After a few days I am invited up to the
gurus house by one of the Renunciates. Amrit Desai
bounces into the room, taking an interest in everyone.
After a few minutes he comes over to me and says you
look so broken, what did you do before you came here?
60
CC CCCCCCCCCC
CC CC
T H E C L E A RI N G
Remember B.?
Was he the one with the elixirs?
No, no, he moved into his van, started that company
61
exact address. Youve only recently returned, and
thus forget your zip code but say a made-up one with
confidence.
///
62
Use the magic eraser and envision every person you
slept with in that place, then smudge out their faces,
pressing hard against the wall. Run yourself ragged
with the clearing and the cleaning. Make a grass angel
in the backyard before burning the journals you cant
bear to keep. Afterwards, youll smell like campfire and
the tea tree oil you smeared across your arms to keep
the mosquitoes away. You are so light youre worried
youll float away.
Ca roli ne Ke ssle r 63
T TTTTTTTTTTT
TT T
THE GUN WASNT HERS
65
lurched. Grabbing the gun, she found the safety,
clicked it off, willed her legs out of the car, onto the
pavement. Shed face it. Caffeine-alert, she walked
down the road, scanned the horizon, hair whipped
around her eyes.
66
DDDDDDDDDD
U N S O LI C IT E D E X C E R P T
68
unskin in front of when the dollarsworth of marshmallows
hairs dive into the scalp and the and nonchocolate sugarwax
scalp erupts like a brominated nyloned to the tune of where
pool at the windblown end have all the twinkle doodles
of the cypress row or in the built their nests the hottub girl
wild oat buffer zone tied couldnt skim this floating layer
loose around taxidermied with a net or with a fly swat or
orangetrunks the groveguard with chanting and open palms
will catch you wiping with
citrus flowerpowder as rich wonderbread schnitzel
as vaginal discharge in the sandwich served cold to
humming laundry room at toothless infants without
the basement of a burnt and magimixing into legitimacy
shattered temple by the thinly could i morph back from snake
vegetated mudside of this to activist my bones crave your
disillusioned river scoop up a stone kisses the flesh will step
rude fist of leeches and let me away like czechoslovakian
a howling stream of bloated springtime air from blond
disappointment let me spit explosives no history adjunct
once more into the kindest no imported guatemalan nanny
promise gnash my teeth at the will spoon you the bible to
jean creaming countenance pick up half my references no
slop the sphincters inside the unlubricated wank to swedish
soaked sweatpocket beyond popstar posters in a centrally
barricades of phosphorized heated and carpeted american
children bark for skin basalt midnight den of child eating
for muscle nothing for eyes demon worshippers with
sandlumps for tongues ripening bananas on your
imaginations evaporated into mamas countertop blending
the sun just sleep just sleep odors with the sauted
and string face after face on portobellos that gush from your
petroleum greased baling wire smoking smith and wesson
black and yellow biles cut with when you dare applaud my
parsley broth in a squished lustful semitic thrust or even
kidney a true ovarian orgasm drop your hungry jaw for it or
in three bowling headrolls keep your eyes open for it or
give me some vinegar and i peek for my gorgonic portrait
will give you pounds on end through the gaps between your
of shredded cabbage starting own fingers thats right afraid
at four decades of nonsensical of what the dweebs you run
sandsteps and up to six million with might do police without
Davi d Kat z 69
power little crazy children who
will grab the keys and hit every
button on the motherfucking
switchboard you call yourself
a jew you couldnt seduce an
underaged flemish whore with
a thousand rubles let alone mar
crystalline prussian thought
with embroidered patchworks
borrowed from hairy balkan
peasant women or straight up
stolen from actual arabs when
the doors down here lock up
the doors on high swing open
and out streams a mighty crowd
of bleeding chimpanzees to
eat your bland sesos unsalted
uncooked with no utensils
70
AAAAAA
AAAAA
F O U RTH
OF JULY POEM
Stepped on pissed on
Cheated and abused
Taken advantage of blue collar man
Caught up in the American scam
71
Tell it to the man on the gallows
Tell it to the chiseled faces on
Mount Rushmore
72
With dry heaves
Tell it to the farm worker
Tell it to the dishwasher
Tell it to the orderlies
Tell it to the flag waver
A.D. Wi nans 73
Tell it to the battered wives of America
Tell it to big Pharma
Profiting off the sick and lame
Tell it to the millions of people
Dying from air pollution
In Mexico, China and India
74
- july 3, 2017 -