Unlikely 2.0


   Self-description is a fabulously poor indicator of the truth. —Joel Kovel


Editors' Notes

Maria Damon and Michelle Greenblatt
Jim Leftwich and Michelle Greenblatt
Sheila E. Murphy and Michelle Greenblatt

A Visual Conversation on Michelle Greenblatt's ASHES AND SEEDS with Stephen Harrison, Monika Mori | MOO, Jonathan Penton and Michelle Greenblatt

Letters for Michelle: with work by Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, Jeffrey Side, Larry Goodell, mark hartenbach, Charles J. Butler, Alexandria Bryan and Brian Kovich

Visual Poetry by Reed Altemus
Poetry by Glen Armstrong
Poetry by Lana Bella
A Eulogic Poem by John M. Bennett
Elegic Poetry by John M. Bennett
Poetry by Wendy Taylor Carlisle
A Eulogy by Vincent A. Cellucci
Poetry by Vincent A. Cellucci
Poetry by Joel Chace
A Spoken Word Poem and Visual Art by K.R. Copeland
A Eulogy by Alan Fyfe
Poetry by Win Harms
Poetry by Carolyn Hembree
Poetry by Cindy Hochman
A Eulogy by Steffen Horstmann
A Eulogic Poem by Dylan Krieger
An Elegic Poem by Dylan Krieger
Visual Art by Donna Kuhn
Poetry by Louise Landes Levi
Poetry by Jim Lineberger
Poetry by Dennis Mahagin
Poetry by Peter Marra
A Eulogy by Frankie Metro
A Song by Alexis Moon and Jonathan Penton
Poetry by Jay Passer
A Eulogy by Jonathan Penton
Visual Poetry by Anne Elezabeth Pluto and Bryson Dean-Gauthier
Visual Art by Marthe Reed
A Eulogy by Gabriel Ricard
Poetry by Alison Ross
A Short Movie by Bernd Sauermann
Poetry by Christopher Shipman
A Spoken Word Poem by Larissa Shmailo
A Eulogic Poem by Jay Sizemore
Elegic Poetry by Jay Sizemore
Poetry by Felino A. Soriano
Visual Art by Jamie Stoneman
Poetry by Ray Succre
Poetry by Yuriy Tarnawsky
A Song by Marc Vincenz


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Successor
by Amanda Earl

The wail of sirens grows louder. Sarabella holds the needle steady as she pierces her inner thigh, watching in fascination as the blood runs down and pools, dripping against her cock. The high-pitched wail of sirens and the sharp, tight heat of the puncture force her to take a deep breath and smell the thin oxygen air mixed with absinthe and opium.

Albumar takes his finger, dips it in Sarabella's artistry and delicately licks the ruby nectar off the white moon of his thumbnail.

We are back to powdered wigs and secret, shameful sex acts. We hide from the soldiers patrolling the streets as we hunt for the starved, sex crazed sinners looking for shelter.

No one would recognize our skeletons covered not in the crimson crinoline of high society, but in rags and the old sackcloth of friars, except those who need us. Need us to find them. Need us to fuck them and fuck them hard.

This is how Sarabella and Albumar discovered me. I was scavenging for anything to eat, but really I just wanted sex. The soldiers keep the citizens starved so that they weaken and die. Only those who are prepared to fight may have food. Then they save the women with child-bearing hips for the fighters to impregnate. And this is how the world is supposed to work, but there are those of us who resist. We cannot fight and our women refuse to bear the children of fighters, who will, themselves, be raised to take on the mission of death.

It had been one month since a soldier fucked me. He bent me over a garbage can in an alley. I wanted him to. I met him in a bar. One that he shouldn't even know about. That kind of thing had been outlawed years ago by Christian fundamentalists. No gay bars. Men who fuck each other were to be destroyed. This soldier found me there though and he took me. And I enjoyed it, knowing I was taking the seed away from some poor woman for even just a little while, so she wouldn't get pregnant with the child of this killer. So I allowed him his little death. Yes I could kill him easily with one finger pressed on his throat, but I wanted him to live with himself and his own disgust afterwards. He left me in the alley for dead. But I was very much alive.

Sarabella and Albumar took me back, bathed me and introduced me to the others. We share a bed. Every night we fuck till dawn. No one goes to a separate room. If they are going to try to kill us, they'll have to battle every one of us at the same time. They have no more bombs, they have no more galaxy destroyers. There's no more money to develop these weapons. Now they have their guns, knives and bare hands. The cunning genius behind this war is the son of the same inbred bunch of bastards that have been ruling us since the beginning of the new millennium. Since they taught people how to fear. Since people listened to their lies. But there are those of us who didn't listen and we are finding one another. Slowly.

Tonight I am lying on the bed beside Marcu and Joachim. I watch Marcu spread Joachim's ass and lick it with his long pointed tongue. He asks me if I want in on the action, and I might as well agree. I've been eyeing the small round butt hole all night and my cock is full of blood and sperm. I need to relieve myself inside Joachim's deep asshole. I need to shove my cock inside his ass and have him clamp down on me so tight that I am finally warm again.

Marcu pushes Joachim's head down on the bed.

"Don't you want to have the first fuck, Marcu?" I say.

"Nah, I've fucked him three times today. I want to see another cock in that hole. And yours is big enough to rouger him right. I'll hold his hips steady and you fuck him hard."

Marcu takes out his cock and I see that his is short and thin. I walk over to the edge of the bed.

"Crawl over here, Joachim boy," I say. "Let me see you wiggle that tight ass and make it quick. I don't have all night."

Joachim moves quickly and as he crawls, I can see that his own cock is rigid and ready to be used.

"Marcu, go get the CBT. I want to see how hard this boy can get for me."

"You're a wild man, Mikael. I have never seen Joachim's cock so hard. Maybe I'll let him suck me off once you're done with him."

I inch my thick cock slowly into Joachim's tight brown hole. I slap his ass hard a few times and pinch his thigh.

"Get that ass up in the air, you little bastard," I say.

By now Sarabella and Albumar have abandoned their own games and are standing around, watching us. Sarabella, still mildly buzzed from her earlier adventures, strokes her hard cock. Albumar gets down on his knees to worship it for her. There are many TGs and TVs in our shelter. The soldiers want nothing to do with them and have been known to shoot them on sight or maim them.

Sarabella looks lovely in a red velvet blazer, open to show her tits and the black pants firmly fitting her tight boyish ass. Albumar is her little puppy dog and she keeps him well fed with cock.

Other members of our little group are attentive on the big wide bed that covers the room. Maliende is striking Ernesto with a flogger made from old rubber tires. These were used for cars when they existed as something moving and not homes for women waiting to give birth to the soldiers' children. Once these women are due, the midwives arrive and open the doors of the car, scooping the babies into baskets and leaving the women for dead. The stench is strong until some kind soul rolls the car into the nearest dump and lights a fire. The most popular vehicle for sheltering in is the SUV, formerly super useless vehicle of the early millennium, now having an important role.

"Tighten that little hole of yours, Joachim, or I'll get that whip from Maliende and take a few stripes off your back, boy," I say as I'm about to come.

Joachim's cock is still blood hard and ready for the torture he adores. I hear him squeal with delight as I use the words he's told us all to use on him to get him going. He can't fuck without this. He needs to be humiliated, degraded, pissed on and fucked like a hole to get off.

Marcu arrives back with the Jaws of Strife, a leather cock ring with nickel studs all along the inside and a ball spreader attached. I wrap the ring around Joachim's cock.

"Do you want to do the honours, Marcu?" I say.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," he says and takes the magnets, adding them one by one to the chains dangling from the cock ring. Soon Joachim is groaning in a mixture of pleasure and pain and rocking his hips back and forth. I am still inside him and ready to shoot another load.

"You can't come yet, fuck-face. Keep that load inside you until Marcu tells you. Marcu, would you like to get in position?" I say.

Marcu goes to the edge of the bed and sits down, turning his face towards Joachim's full cock and closing his eyes.

"Now," Marcu says and Joachim starts grunting like the animal he likes to be. My cock rams hard into him and he moans as his come shoots into Marcu's face, dripping down his chin.

I shoot my load too and we are all sated once more. For one brief moment we have escaped from the knowledge that hell is just outside the door.

"Good boy, Joachim. Now lick up Marcu, sweety. Clean him up all nice and he'll find you a nice plate of goodies to eat." I stroke Joachim's head and he purrs like a little kitten and rubs his face against my thigh.

We all curl up; Joachim falls into a deep sleep beside Marcu and me.


Continued...