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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Two Poems by Mather Schneider


is the Spanish saint
of marijuana.
The pot smugglers
from Mexico
pray to Malverde
to guide them and
protect them.
Sometimes it works,
sometimes it doesn't.
Malverde seems to change
his favors to coincide
with the movements
of U.S. border troops.
All I know is I pray
for them every time
I take a toke.
I have to think
I am helping
in my own
small way.

Imbeciles in the Torrent

The elderly Chinese woman waits at her window
watching the rain.
She wants it to stop
so she can go outside
and water her flowers.
You should hear the way
she talks to her dog, his ears
flatten and his tail
goes between his legs.
She lives alone, she drove
all her relatives away
and killed the cat.
It's only her
and the dog now, and
the flowers.
It doesn't rain
in the desert much
and so for most of the year the flowers
need the woman to
Maybe it's the price
of independence:
to hang their heads like imbeciles
in the torrent,
to drink until they choke
on their own color.
The old Chinese woman sees it all through
her window glass,
musty and foul,
the blooms pink as the tongues of seagulls
in a cold and cloudy

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Mather SchneiderMather Schneider's blog is at MatherSchneider.blogspot.com. He has a book coming out by Interior Noise Press in January.