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 Shane Allison

Yoga at 115 Degrees

Did it hurt? Do you ache and if so, tell me where and
be sure to tell me everything.

Speak clear, slow and if you leave anything out, you
will die ten trillion deaths.

Drenched in sweat you say? Dehydrated dry mouth. So
thirsty. Agua, agua.

Stretched those thighs how high? Feet apart. Reach for
the sky, hombre. Touch the sun and feel the burn.




Chris

Chris I thought about your cock all the way home
I couldn't get it out of my head, Chris
Your cock is so pretty, Chris
Chris your cock is so...so...pretty and pink
It was so perfect and pretty and fat and pink, Chris
I could have worked your cock all night, Chris
Did you hear me, Chris? I said I could have worked
your pink, pretty cock all night
Chris you tasted sweet
Chris it felt so warm in my hands
Your butt and belly were warm and sweet, Chris
I want to tickle your asshole with my tongue, Chris
Did you hear what I just said, Chris?
I said I want to clean your asshole with my tongue
Slip another dollar in the machine, Chris
Chris I'm thinking of you...I'm thinking of you
inside me, Chris
I've never been fucked, Chris
Chris I want your pink, pretty, perfect, fat cock
up my bum, Chris
I want your pink, pretty cock up me bum, Chris.




Medicine Cabinet

Opened the medicine cabinet
and out came ear drops.
The ear infection stopped
then out came cold and flu tablets.
The tablets were expired
then out came shoe polish.
After buffing my shoes to a high shine,
out came hair gel.
Rubbed the gel thoroughly through
and out came deodorant.
Rolled the deodorant beneath hairless armpits
and out came athlete's foot powder.
Sprinkled the powder between my itchy toes
and out came medicated body lotion.
Massaged the lotion within the roughest, toughest parts
of my body and out came arthritis pain pills
A little too young for pills of this sort,
so out came cologne.
splashed its sent on a shaven face,
then out came toothpaste.
Brushed until my gums bled
then out came alcohol.
Poured alcohol on the wounds made
after self mutilation,
then out came lip balm.
Smeared the lip balm across fat, cracked lips
then out came iron supplements.
Took the iron supplements
'cuz the doctor said, "You're a little anemic,"
Then out came nasal decongestant.
Cleared up my sinuses, then out came
a nail clipper. Clipped my toenails
over a toilet bowl of blue water,
then out came anti-itch cream.
Rubbed the itch cream on all that itched,
then out came soap.
Washed all of my 2000 parts
then that was that


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Shane Allison is the author of five chapbooks of poetry, I Want to Fuck a Redneck being his most recent from Scintillating Publications. He has had poems published in Suspect Thoughts, Velvet Mafia, Mississippi Review, Best Black Gay Erotica and others. He has work coming forth in Best Gay Erotica 2007.