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 Philip Hammial

Escape

Shit for brains, we rock
around the clock, we mock
their fisting as two by two we're marched

in for a feed potatoes & carrots & cabbage & pork
& grootes & glams & maybe & if
we don't shut up they'll trice us

with ilk, with mince & cash express,
with a spoon-fed belief that who beasts
best is our better, who swallows a gaffe

gets our vote for a quote: "Deb's best
at pant swell." Remember
Digger O'Dell? How for a notion

he rang a bell? As hard by half
we petered out. As bards in jackets
of a chemical nature we slid down ropes of merry.




Brother

An acute little sod
comes back for more: Brother,
could you spare a life? I could
but my wife about that
would be oblique, wouldn't settle
for less than an accusation
of pretext. Question: by whom
was she undone & why? By Sam
for a scam: Who stood
for Berlin sat for Dresden, should have been
the other way around, from bacteria
to Andromeda being six lives, not two
as Sam said, a promise as paltry
as pudding on rye, as Himmler
in rafters, Goebbels to blame
for this Ferris wheel toppled on its side, for this Chair-
O-Plane that's thrown its riders to four corners—north,
east, south, west—where angels blow horns to celebrate
the arrival of the dearly departed, fingers in their ears,
this noise the last thing they need. That blasting horn,
I could swear we're about to be overtaken
by a Wehrmacht half-track, storm troopers spitting
dummies as they pass, will soon flush out those gypsies
who live in trees, in the elms on this quiet country road
as from a whole word to a buzz word a crow flies.




A Lesson

Another urinary episode, yours truly one of thousands
who, in the dead of night, will call out for a bedpan. Nurse,
quick, my life (admittedly antique) is snared by grief, is
culled from some confusion as to where I am. And
when. And, most to the point, why. But as always
she arrives too late, too busy chatting
with the sound effects man. Your rolls of thunder
aren't authentic. They need more crack, more Zeus
with a whip.

                   Butch favourites
on the mark, get set, go... their divine anatomies
set adrift, so slow; is jelly roll
all they know?
                           That every shoe
is worn by someone is a fact
that I know. And ditto glove: Take that,
& that.
Fifty slaps
by my count, & more to come, more cheek
to turn, a lesson apparently
that I need to learn as I float merrily (Marry me!)
down a river of my own creation, another
   urinary episode.


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Philip HammialPhilip Hammial has had twenty-three collections of poetry published, two of which were short-listed for a NSW Premier's Award. His poems have appeared in nineteen Australian poetry anthologies & in magazines in nine countries.