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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Three Poems by Millie Niss

Faust Joins an HMO

sign here to assign your immortal soul to Vectra Healthworks to animate our executives’ soulless bodies in the coming quarter. stick out your arm; we need to take a specimen of your life blood. give us your valuables we’ll put them in an improperty bag to save for your next of kin. lie down on the bed; breathe in; you’ll have a brief sensation of raspberry jam in your limbs and then nothing nothing nothing

sorry to say the electrodes revealed nothing juicy about your character. our studies of your bile did not give enough data points to pinpoint the source of your rage. lamentably, your semen failed to indicate the cause of your infidelity. we could not diagnose your sorrow from your heart: adieu you lucky one, one of the few to die of love. would you like an added rider for hospice care at the heartbreak hotel, our newest behavioral health facility for the terminally fucked?

unfortunately, the procedure is far from benign. read this small print; it tells of the chances of non-accidental death. on the count of three recite your name and social security number and the phrase “I consent to have my mind blown and take all responsibility for the cost of the explosives” no need to sign, three doctors swear you need our latest treatment, the one no mouse has yet survived, but never fear, men are hardier than rodents.

alas, he passed away. we did our best. in the end, it really was for the best: his vegetative state betrayed mineral stupor mixed with animal pain. the best interventions were made mr. k, he was in good hands with us. don’t forget, he checked a box to have only the best undertaker undertake his interment, and the best costs most but no nephew would resent the price of a good embalming

i hate to inform you, the formal letter informally began, but your prayers cannot ease his soul: he sold it to the company to get free dentures at the clinic. just pretend you don’t believe in ghosts and try not to think about his infernal torment. we gave him the full counseling required by law about the consequences of the soul equity payment plan, but penniless he nonetheless sought analgesia at our doors. if we didn’t do it, someone else would – He who lives Below never lacks for lackeys in the health care biz, and we sell damnation with a smile, paying top dollar and providing the best life enhancing care, delaying ever longer the inevitable descent

ah the smell of burning dollars overwhelms the reek of flesh

the executives’ compensation compensates executions by capitation but not by decapitation

the doctors’ souls fuel the fire which cooks their compromised ethics to a crisp, fodder for financiers’ files of fools who signed away their physiology for fear of death without coverage, a fate too fearsome for contemplation

self-pay self-pay cry the angels of mercy but that is a hard and lonely path, like all roads from sin to salvation, so-called paths of good intention leading to pride and fluid retention and soul diuresis unleashed without sluice or floodgate. a niagara of lymph and bile drowns the pilgrims but drowning they attain redemption, reach the pearly demilitarized zone and enter heaven, glad to be among the uninsured




Headline News

Malodorous vaseline seduces rare crustacean
writes our correspondent from the Gulf
Mad tryst ends in sad scene
as UN diplomat eats both upon Polynesian Pad Thai.
Our experts debate metaphysical consequences
as applied to ethics. Kant is cited as is Rawls.
Brawls ensue among the learned.

Rumsfeld’s speech on channel 3
is breezy, let’s us really see
we’re here to kill but just to kill the ones
we want to kill kill kill. And if we kill
some other ones, too bad says Rumsfeld:
What were those dead people doing underneath our bombs anyway?

Take saucepan and heat two tablespoons olive oil.
Add finely chopped Italian parsley.
When wilted, add chopped onions.
Now put in the morals.
Stir until browned on all sides.
Drain and remove from heat.

Insert morals into subjects using the following procedure:
Skewer moral on icepick or kebab skewer.
Lift eyelid and push upwards into brain through eye socket.
If desired, anaesthetics may be administered prior to treatment.
This is however an unnecessary complication._

Whining general opines freely
on the decline of the armed forces,
(accompanied by the Singing Senators
and a fifty-two piece kazoo orchestra
whose members are all dressed as Uncle Sam)
Young men just want to have fun now, he complains,
I had my fun in Vee-et-nam shooting Gooks.
I put a notch in my penis for each one I dispatched.

My wife says she understands
why perverts buy ribbed condoms.
Our pastor says it is a sin
to alter what God has provided,
and so every night we pray for the souls of the Gooks
who have enriched our marital duty.

I regret only
that I didn’t instruct them
in the faith of Our Lord
before shooting them,
but my orders were clear,
and I am a stickler for obeying my commanders,
temporal and spiritual.


Secret research in special hospital
develops plans to send aborted fetuses to war.
_We love fetuses_, say the Republicans,
and sending them to do the highest duty
an American can do
is a way of asserting their humanity.


In another lab,
a bipartisan group
works on a remote control device
for Presidents.
Imagine the benefits, one former press secretary says.
We could literally put words in the President’s mouth
and completely prevent any dangerous off-the-cuff remarks.

A high official in the current administration who spoke
on condition that his name not be revealed
gushed thus:
A committee of experts could gather
in the Situation Room
and provide the President
with a knowledgeable and politically safe
answer to any question.
Imagine that!




Support Bill 201_23C: The Wood Restriction Act

my fellow members of congress
I bring before you a bill to outlaw fireplaces, campfires, and barbecuing
in the presence of children.
although the liberal media does its best to hide it
supported by the fire lobby,
the boy scouts, 4-H, the national
association of Jewish community centers,
and the YMCA,
it has come to my attention through a wealthy constituent and regular contributor to my PAC,
the lumber industry consortium,
that wood fires are the leading cause of juvenile delinquency in the country
first they burn firewood,
then it's on to trashcans,
garden sheds,
motorcycles, greenhouses,
motor vehicles of all sorts,
old growth forest,
and,
finally,
domiciles.
like marijuana
that pernicious herb
these apparently innocent fires,
are the gateway to pyromania
a child who at six is told to build a circle of stones
and a teepee of sticks
and wait for the scoutmaster to arrive with kindling
to light it safely
will at eleven be pouring gasoline
on Mrs. Lindemayer's wicker lawn furniture
while at fifteen
he or she will already be a regular
at the county training school
serving simultaneous time for setting
neighborhoods on fire.
such children rarely escape a life of crime
even if,
through intensive therapy,
they overcome the urge to burn
they fill our divorce courts,
domestic violence intervention programs,
half-way houses for minor rapists
and some even become terrorists
and yet these very same men.
could have become good fathers and husbands
attendees at conventions of stamp collectors
and members of the rotary club
had they never been taught to set fires.
children imitate adults
and when they see us proudly admiring our skill
at lighting the barbeque grill
or a crackling fire in the mantel place
they long to do the same,
in fact to outdo adults.
we need to set a good example for the youth of America
by allowing our forests to be professionally cultivated
by people trained to handle wood safely
who are psychologically vetted
to eliminate any candidates with fire-setting tendencies.
moreover access to woodlands should be restricted to timber company personnel
and members of the army corps of engineers
as trees present an unsurmountable temptation
to vulnerable youth
for whom the sight of a tree is like
a spark in a hay pile
or a barrel of gunpowder,
like drink to an alcoholic
three-card monte to a recovering compulsive gambler on the streets of Washington heights
a blow job to a politician
or like an ice cream sundae
to an obese binge eating bachelor
in t-shirt and underwear
who watches reruns of Star Wars
and I Dream of Jeannie
all day in his basement room in the projects.
yes, trees are a necessary evil
producing many fine consumer goods
but in the wrong hands they are a weapon.
still,
we in the timber consortium like to remind people
that fires don't kill people,
people kill people

it seems very clear
that access to the wood processing trades
such as carpentry
should be limited to those who are stable, law abiding, god-fearing,
and patriotic
and that a loyalty oath should be required
in order to study woodworking.
moreover,
we recommend a waiting period
and identity checks against a database of known enemies
of the American way of life
such as axe murderers,
green party members,
and those who use recycled paper
before authorizing the purchase of a power tool
such as a saw or hand drill.
some tools
such as routers and lathes
should be disallowed without a special permit
issued only to those who show a clear and present need
to shape wood.
needless to say
we should not be exposing our youth to woodworking in the schools,
(by doing so we are practically teaching them how to be criminals)
just as we should not teach fornication
or abortion in "health" classes
some will object
that our lord Jesus Christ was himself a carpenter
but like many things in the bible
this cannot be taken literally
by calling Jesus a "carpenter"
the word of God
is implying that He was a shaper of men
just as carpenters
were shapers of wood
this has nothing to do with actual sawing,
screwing,
or planing.
this safely understood,
there can be no objections possible to the bill
which I am introducing
outlawing fires,
carpentry and other wood crafts,
and recreation near trees
trees are to be kept safe for society's use
by the timber companies
in secure and militarized tree farms
and well patrolled forests
although the latter are to be harvested as soon as possible
and the land opened up for petroleum prospecting
and mining of gems, minerals, bauxite
and gold.
this will stimulate the economy
and help bring an end to the economic downturn
brought on by past pro-environment administrations.
I yield the rest of my time to vice president Cheney
who is a special guest in our chamber today


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Millie Niss is a poet and web artist with publications on bannerart.org, Beehive, Rhizomes/hyperrhiz, erasures.net, trAce/frAme, sidereality.com, wordcircuits.com, and others. A still image of one of her Flash movies appears in the recent "Internet Art" book in the Thames & Hudson World of Art series. Millie will be presenting a workshop on "Sound Poetry in Flash" at trAce's Incubation3 symposium this summer.