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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The Rin Tin Jubilee
by Luke Marinac

There are deep drums
pounding in the heart of the nation.

Tribes being conjured
nameless, and faceless
        what leads them

                A pot pan clattering to a hickory stick

Their Vehemence absolute
no margin for recompence
        What heals them

                in the streetcalls for an age.

Foes as bloodless, and vicous
        Everywhere, condensing...

                Wild wild abandon.

Two forever armies marching

outward
        ripple Annihilation

                Echoes the rin-tin Jubilee

In the eye of nuculear Apocolypse
at dead black center...

                The Pot Pan Man
                And his hickory stick.

Wandering on Old Laurel street.



Luke Marinac is a resident of Knoxville, Tennessee. He hopes someday he'll give up cheesy poofs and stock his kitchen with organic foods, quit loosing all his socks, and sleep eight hours a night. In the meantime he tries to balance writing poems and short stories with his school work and serving at a local tavern. He's a member of the Knoxville Writer's Guild, and once wrote a poem in third grade that his teacher loved so much she gave him a shiny gold sticker. Ever since then he's devoted his life to writing, and his parents have become accustomed to crying themselves to sleep over this. You may contact him at lukemarinac AT gmail DOT com.