Unlikely 2.0


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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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Three Poems by Wendy Taylor Carlisle

Malignant

The IV runs into a woman's chest, and, over time,
the deep fat on her face comes unstuck,
exposing mandible and maxilla, their harsh structure
sharpened by her metal mirror. She lies down
to watch the tube and, through her window
the wiry leaves, her sisters, glittered by rain, slide by
and become worms on the Arkansas sidewalk.

When she collates her life, she has known all along,
or perhaps only recently decided, as she drew
the smoke in, how worthwhile it was, the luxury of coughing.
There is pain, she tells herself. Then, there is pain
and sloughing. It is nothing to the human day,
the heat, nothing to a woman's curls, undone,
nothing to its ordinary needs its chemical demands.




Curtal

Cutting is what happens
when you forget that liaison
because it is the mind's
job to save your life by lopping,
cauterizing. The truth that
is pruned from your story, is lost
like a chopped thumb, left
to grope for its own warm pocket,
where the facts were in your Ironclad gloves,
                                 that curtailed hand.




Traveling Short Distances

I can only say I came the back way
          in the orange car.
It was cold where I came from.

When I arrived, the fruit trees
          were bearing as if I'd never
been away to that place between

anxiety and the golden gate:
          in the car-pool lane,
at the wooden door, knocking.

I came to say hello, dear enemy.
          Now I'm back,
let's name each other for good luck.

Start with the children. Take
          nothing for granted.
When we get there, we will know.


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Wendy Taylor CarlisleWendy Taylor Carlisle lives on the edge of Texas with one foot in Arkansas. She is the author of two books, Reading Berryman to the Dog (2000) and Discount Fireworks (2008). She has two published chapbooks: After Happily Ever After (2River Chapbook Series) and The Storage of Angels (Slow Water Press). Her work is included in several anthologies: The Poets Grimm, (2003), Is This Forever, Or What?: Poems and Paintings from Texas, ed. Naomi Shihab Nye, (2004) and Letters to the World, eds. Moira Richards, Rosemary Starace, and Lesley Wheeler, (2007) and others. Her poems have appeared in 2River View, Salt River Review, Cider Press Review, Aquila, Bent Pin Quarterly and elsewhere. Further notes about her poems on line and in print appear on her website WendyTaylorCarlisle.com.


Comments (closed)

Eve Rifkah
2011-01-17 07:40:03

Wendy --- good work lady!

I feel a slipping between here and someplace else - now and...

ER

Liesl
2011-01-18 11:53:27

Strong images, that lopped off thumb will stay with me!