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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Flipper Hands McCreary
by Michael Frissore

I met a mermaid once. I was hanging out by the naval base, as I often do, and this woman popped her head out of the water and said, "Can you help me with these fins?"

So I ran over like a gentleman, reached my hand out to her, and she knocked me unconscious with a buoy or something. When I woke up my wallet was gone and I heard Christmas music playing. It was July when I got knocked out.

I asked my friend John John, who was visiting me in the hospital, "Have I been asleep for six months?"

"No. Just messing with you," he said. "Let's get out of here. I have something to show you."

We left the hospital. John John didn't even let me check out. He rushed me out of there. I had a massive headache but he said it would go away once I saw his surprise.

John John was in the navy. He was like an E3 or something. Whenever he said he's an E3, I would say, "You sunk my battleship," and he'd laugh.

He also had these funny little flipper hands. He had them since birth and they were perfect for a navy guy, especially since he was always slapping me with them.

If I had known that what John John had to show me was at his apartment twenty blocks away, and that we had to walk because he somehow had left his car at home, I'd have said, "How about another time?"

Instead we walked the whole way, me still with a headache while listening to John John sell this thing he was in possession of like a carnival barker.

"This is the shit," he said. "You've gotta see this. This is the kinda shit you see in the armed forces."

Finally we arrived. John John had this tiny little place in the city and it smelled the second we entered. I grabbed a rag from the couch and put it over my nose. I woke up to John John slapping me in the face and throwing salt all over me.

"What the hell happened?" I said.

"You took my chloroform rag."

"Why the hell do you have a chloroform rag?"

"Dates, dude," he said. "Now wait here."

I stood up and distracted myself from the sick feeling with a picture on John John's kitchen table. It was of a beautiful woman, an amputee, standing on crutches nearly naked in front of a Christmas tree.

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