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

Join our Facebook group!

Join our mailing list!

Two Poems by Alison Ross

Invective, whispered

Invective, whispered, in the neon night. An owl begs for blindness. The air, rearranged as rhythmic eyes. Implosion: Trees recede. The debris of constant zeroes rains down, down, down. The ground an electric chair. Death becomes us: We wear it like the shadow of a wedding gown. We sleep, perchance we dream; invective invades, (re)coiling: an afterthought, whispered.

Techno Prisons

In the techno prisons, ravers tweet ecstasy, and the disco balls made of computer screens twirl the many faces of John Travolta. "Scientology Fever" becomes the number one hit on AM 770.

In the techno prisons, the High Definition Priests of the Droids sit in their iPods worshipping their Tablets.

In the techno prisons, Edison smashes a light bulb and calls it progress. Ravers call it egregious regress and pull the plug on his ghost. His ghost lives off the grid and calls it excess.

In the techno prisons, Facebook checks her Gmail 20 times a day, and Apple texts nude selfies to Google. Instagram gets jealous and creates mean memes about perverted fruits that go viral and infect everyone with parabola.

In the technicolor prisons, our souls lose their hues, and we all go extinct like the black and white TVs of our futuristic past

Clockwise Cat publisher and editor Alison Ross has been published here, there, elsewhere and nowhere. She experienced rave-levels of ecstasy when she found out she was shortlisted for the 2014 Erbacce Prize among 20 others, down from 5,000 entries. She was also giddily bemused when was nominated for the Best of the Net a few years back, though she lost out to savvier scribes. Alison's chapbook, Clockwise Cats, released by the venerable Fowlpox Press, will subvert your dissonant dystopia into a euphonious utopia of Zen-Surrealist bliss.

Pin It       del.icio.us