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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Three Poems by Win Harms

3am victory

radio driven psychotic movies urges
an unoriginal liquor store hold up or
lying next to vegas hotel with a
margarita in one hand and an ice pick
in the other sometimes she'd forget her address
pass out on her ex-boyfriend's lawn
those were the only numbers
she could remember once we threw all
her books away in a truck stop dumpster
our existence torn with the hell of
another cheap high from a
one night a week love
funny he can never look me in the eye
one more 3:30am victory and one more
restless sleep in my own arms

a taped box

august melted into cool september
blinding lights and her screams
eyeliner and the first scar
winds blew colder
a window i can't open
first love   secrets uncovered
october's rainy tempting nights
a letter i can't find
the inner scar and lockdown
november comes in the form
of a different uniform
day after day and another
long sleeved shirt
day after day and another
near death experience
december and lovers come then go
memories of strange days
in the threads of this sweater
i am alive   i survived
december will blow to january
year after sordid year
my eyes start to glow and
i feel the faded remembering

chicago ward

edwin chased razor blades with pinesol
miguel is a chronic masturbator who said
come with me, you want to do sex?
miriam punched me twice, hard
i took lithium and klonopin
with no one to stop me but myself
and now i'm sitting here with these
i can't even call so you can
laugh at me
while i wear the pajama pants
the woman who read us our vows wore
800 miles and three suicide attempts
(one successful, two not)
away from a beautiful day in march
ten years ago we thought
crazy could be cured
now the man has become the myth
and the woman has been left a widow

Win Harms lives in Lille, France now but has knocked around the United States and Europe as well as some psych wards. She has been published in several anthologies and many online journals. Her first book, in harms way, is available from Barncott Press. Now that she had entered her tame thirties, she spends most of her time writing and doing needlework while her husband reads history books.

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