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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Two Poems by Mickey C.

Iyeska

I.   The Trial

Wandering...
Across the paths
Of the lost
There is no guidance
In these green signs
Tourist information
Holds no secret
To the keys
Of identity.

Struggling through
The miasma
Trying to define
That which borders
Definition.
Cutting across
The prairie
Sun baked
And dust coated`
Herein lies
The legacy
Of the mixed blood.

Walking through
The city
Bronze statues
Leering with
Impossible size,
Surrounded by
Brothers and sisters,
Yet passing,
Unrecognized.

II.   The Jury

What secrets
Lie in an accent,
Concealed,
By pigment,
Hidden,
Within the shape
Of an eye.
If only
All our destinies
Were so easily
Discerned.

And yet
When the
Gathering of nations
Culminates into one,
They turn away
In fear
Of what
May come next,
In fear
Of what
May be lost.
So we who are
Of the mixed den,
Are we then
Those neither
Wolf nor dog,
Are we then
Born disputed?

Belonging
To neither
Our mother
Or our father
We are
The unclaimed
The unspoken,
The forbidden,
The examples
Of why
Good girls
Stay with
Their own kind.

III.   The Verdict.

Where is our worth,
Beyond that
Of warning?
Can we ever be
Something beyond
A reminder?
Accepted
By neither one
Nor the other,
Even amongst
Our own ranks
We fight
Over who holds
The greatest
Blood quantum
The greatest
Amount
Of belonging.
Yet
None of us
Belong.

Out of
This patchwork quilt
Of histories,
Out of
This hodge-podge
Of heritage,
We may
Just craft
Our own.




Lost Plumes of the God

Descended from blood...

Slavering hounds of
Alvarado's leagues,
The end of the fourth sun,
Fall of the snake god.

You left us!
Oh Quetzecoatl,
These blue plumes
Hold only sadness,
Toiling in the grape fields
Soaked in greed.

Bereft of spirit and land,
Lobos y coyotes,
We are the scourge!
Of once fertile fields,
Thrust beneath the
Blanket of history.
Gagged by myth,
And bound by poisoned soil.

What raft tossed across
Dark seas—depressed
And uncertain how
We spat upon your name.
Montezuma, a tragic
Priest, the calendar
Of days smashed
Across textile factory
Stones.

Children stolen by
The hounds,
Reebok and cocaine.
Dark eyes dirt tracked,
Hands hard worn,
It is a crime to look
For freedom.

Zapatistas hunted
Through the jungle,
Melting into villages,
Day time farmer,
Night time jaguar.

Soldiers stomp across
Their fathers fields,
Misery conscripted
And stained in blood
Across church steps.

Chiapas! Alvarado! Columbus! De Soto! Aguilar! Río Negro! Cortés! Pizarro!
The names stagger across consciousness,
Atrocities too bright to pin to print.

Struggle through
Overworked land,
Irrigation failing,
Children mewl
In their mothers’
Sun-stretched
Shadows.

Where is our serpent now?
Betrayed by the pass
Of the ordained day,
Stone temples buried in vine,
Yet the buildings bear the colors.
The women weave still.
Tourists glare and demand
Their stereotypes filled.
City's filth cakes
The playa.

Turtle shells
Pile beside the sea
Where Quetzecoatl
Floated away,
Fleeing the mirror
That revealed him
A man


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Mickey C. is an introverted, single-by-choice mother, disabled veteran, a former diesel mechanic, house painter, wild-land fire fighter, and body builder. She is fully retired from the military and the world, and spends most of her time chasing down mischievous demon spawn, working on various multimedia art projects, being outraged, and writing.