Unlikely is now focused on a tribute issue for our Poetry Editor, Michelle Greenblatt, who passed away on October 19, 2015. Submissions are now open.

Recent Articles:

Ten Paintings by t thilleman
Seven Paintings by Amy Guidry
Four Visual Poems by John M. Bennett and Jim Leftwich
Illuminated Poems by Marthe Reed
Backlit Poems by Kaia Sand
Four Poems by Michael Ruby
Three Poems by mIEKAL aND
Two Visual Poems by mIEKAL aND
Three Poems by Sheila E. Murphy
Three Poems by Dylan Krieger
Three Sonnets by John Lowther
Three Poems by Belinda Subraman
Three Poems by K.R. Copeland
Three Poems by Joe Nicholas
Three Poems by Felino A. Soriano
Three Poems by Lana Bella
Two Poems by Alison Ross
A Poet Bio by Cindy Hochman
Four Poems by Joel Chace
Thirty-Six Visual Poems by Jukka-Pekka Kervinen
Used Goods: Fiction by Mark Polanzak
Endorphins: Fiction by Toni Todd
Favors: Fiction by James Alexander
The Perfect Night for Open Air Travel: Fiction by Pamela Kearney
An Interview with Susan Joyce
An Interview with John Swain
An Interview with Anna Joy Springer
An Interview with Patrick Litchy
Mapache: He Who Watches, and Why the Lone Ranger Stole Tonto's Mask by Cecelia Chapman

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Love Has Been Liquidated
Volume 1
by John Bryan

Check out Unlikely Stories: Episode IV's interview with the author

—"The Griffins assigned spiritual values to Mount Ainslie, Black Mountain, and Red Hill and originally planned to cover each of these in flowers. That way each hill would be covered with a single, primary colour which represented its spiritual value."


(I arrived in Chelmno on 20th June 2011. The wind rustling through the trees as loud as an ocean breaking on the sand. The sand in question comprised of bone fragments visible beneath my feet—Author's note.) Why does he lie there, shaking?. Oh, don't worry about him. A couple of days in the foetal position under the table will allay the lightning wound wrapped around his head. His epiphany has left him a little touched. He loves it! Let the pulse begin as a system of rules and principles for attaining a desired end. So, what are these rules, these principles, and more important, what's this desired end? There are as many answers as there are roles to play. I have discovered the definitive formula for a poem that must be made by all who read it, least of all its author. For it is the role playing prose poem. I apologize that it is not my best material. But hopefully, patient reader, you will make your own poem, through rigorous intuition and intelligence. Together, let us begin the lie: Death in sleep, don't really die. Death is completely unbelievable. Wake up dead, life's a haunting. Life is an idiosyncrasy. This is easy to play, just find the word. Wondering how The Monster's body parts will go back together or will The Monster be The Patient?. I may know something you don't know, depending on where you want to go. If you wish to play your part in making this poem and have decided to invoke the colours that we cannot see, the theoretical colours, as metaphors, as invoking the spirit of the recently deceased, as invoked from an illustration from Ebenezer Sibly's 'Astrology' 1806 Edition., then I shall meet you at ISABELLA Dr. —Get ready to tell people they can read "whatever they want" into our role playing poem. That it "lives its own life" and can "mean many things."— If you do not wish to play your part, but wish to return to that body farm brothel from which your spirit floated, and from where your remains are pimped out for forensic research, then I shall meet you at LIMESTONE Ave.

the author's eyeball for some reason

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