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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Cracked Mirror
Part 4

He awoke in an alley, on his stomach in the rain. He was wearing a trenchcoat, tan, corduroy pants, a t-shirt, tennis shoes. He could feel there was something in the pockets. Two prescription bottles and a wallet with $500 in it. He went and got a room, to get out of the rain. He set the pill bottles on the bedside tables along with another prescription. He went out and got two Whoppers with cheese, a case of beer, and a carton of cigarettes. He sat in his hotel room with the radio on, Coast to Coast AM with George Noory, something about crop circles, and devoured the first solid food he had had in weeks. He lay on the bed sipping Budweiser, until he wrapped himself in the warm covers and drifted off to sleep.

The next day he awoke about noon and went out to get a job. He was light headed, and paranoid. He eventually landed a job as a janitor at a local shopping mall. It went fine for a while, drinking, taking medication, getting paid, listening to the radio. He was happy in a strange lonely way of his own. He was beyond all human companionship, in his condition, but didn’t really want it for some reason. It was going fine until he walked out of work into a crime scene, where he saw a man with a watermelon-sized hole in his gut, sprawled on the pavement. He made eye contact with the detectives, but avoided them and wondered what he had been doing for the past 8 hours. He made his way to his room and cracked open a beer, turning on the radio to 1100 AM, Coast to Coast AM. For some strange reason, he also felt very guilty. The next day he walked into a crime scene, on his way to work. Did he sleep all day, he wondered? He wasn’t sure. The body was without a skull. A headless body laid in the parking lot of the Cuyahoga Falls mall. He cleaned all night, in silence, sometimes losing himself in thought. Vacuuming the carpet, mopping the floors, polishing windows. He left work in silence, to his hotel room where he cracked open a beer, and lit a cigarette, after turning on the radio. He took his medication, and then went to sleep. The next day, while standing at the bus stop he began to root through the trashcan that stood there. He found a human arm, and called the police. They came, and questioned him. He told them that they thought it might be him killing everyone, but he wasn’t sure. They wrote him off, and he went away, spitting in the dust and garbage, to work, a couple minutes late. There were no killings for a couple of days, but a man was questioned after his foot exploded in public. Another victim of this rogue killer. Finally, one more man was butchered, his chest exploding in the food court of the mall where Dean worked, Children slipping and sliding around in his guts, falling down, dropping their ice cream cones. Dean finally confessed, tear-soaked, to all the murders, but was turned away at the door, because he was drunk, almost getting arrested.

*

Dean walked through the cemetery, with a noose around his neck, rope dragging behind, bottle of Jack Daniels in his right hand. He drained the last of the bottle, climbed the tree and knotted the rope around a high branch of the tree. He jumped out of the tree, and hung there, writhing. Blood dripped out of his skull as he writhed, suffocating. Soon, he was dead, and after Dean’s death, all of the random murders stopped, cold.


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kurtice6@hotmail.com
he'd love some feedback
he's a very lonely man