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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Two Poems by Jim Lineberger

All the Starry Fays

A memory that begins with I remember
has already put its memories
aside clinging to thoughts that were never real
to begin with,
the way she will say she knew you
in another life
when in reality she's not seen your kind before,
who arrive in the spring and sing so briefly
helpless to explain how it is
you can find your voice only in overgrown ditches or clumps of blackthorn,
or how, when you return home to the savannahs
in the early fall
before the deep snow comes howling in,
you will still be as unfettered
and caution-free
as the whirring cloud of swallows whose wings
she used to wish
were hers
rising like locusts over the burnt-out souls
on Hennepin who can barely recall
your wild song, and held your plain brown body in ecstacy
only once if ever
in a locked-away childhood dream




god these terrible decisions

we're forced to make
trying to
believe that what we have to say
has not
been said in just this way before
and the ballsy ignorance so necessary
to plunge onward with another
fool notion sensing that no matter how
arduous the journey
somebody will have got there before us
which is why movies
have it all over poems because
there's nothing more reassuring than to go to
a new film and discover
you've seen it all before and anyway
who ever heard
of a three hankie poem


Jim Lineberger is a retired screenwriter, sometime playwright, and full-time poet.



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