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 John Grochalski

oceans and seas

they look like rabid dogs
locked in a cage

foaming at the mouth
taking their hardships out on each other

i think that they are rabid dogs

and i stand there
waiting for them to turn on me

which doesn't take long in a place like this

for we have animosity here
as wide as the oceans and seas

these dogs they come at me
showing their yellow teeth

their mouths filled with blood and snot

barking at me

lunging

hungering for my throat

but to win i must keep juking left and right
keep moving beyond this

because i know that if they get me
they'll never let me go

these dogs

these company men

these american workers
trying to squeeze water from a stone
on a friday afternoon

doing their best to make damn sure
that your coming weekend
will be as bad as theirs.




should've stayed in bed

awoke into a cold heat
sent the poems out
the poems going out to the radio
thoughts of hemingway
thoughts of fante
thoughts of hank and kerouac
they made it
while i simply fell incognito
into this picasso
biography at my side

drank the wine
fondled the beer cans
in the fridge
drank the good red wine
and decided to walk five miles
five miles in the sun
realizing ten blocks away that
i was drunk before noon
and couldn't take another step
drunk before noon is a revelation
only not when you're on the way
to work

took the bus
that sweet piss-scented chariot
took the bus with america's future
clogging up the seats
their heads buried in cell phones
and video game machines
looking at them
at the old ladies they made stand
in the aisles
with canes and shopping bags
those white haired, frail patriots
who've seen it all
but still expect a seat

those christian soldiers
who refuse to die and meet their lord

and i wondered if anyone else
was reading a biography of picasso
or was on a strict diet
of cheap french red before noon

this is my protest
this is what works for me

listened to music
from rock and roll bands
whose members could almost
be my children
i'm a silly gray man who's high on wine
listening to rock and roll music
on a mid-day bus
but the music serves its purpose
it passes time to time
in such a careful way
music always does

even though nearly every genre of it
has failed me at one time or another

saw the sun
that obnoxious cow
heard the birds
those lazy cunts
and realized that summer was
on the way
with its beaches, picnics, and fireflies

it is always a dreadful time for me
being a human being
when the summer comes

i simply cannot stand
all of that yellow happiness
and watermelon

went to the job
and the electric company cheered
the cable company sent me
a thank you note
the student loan people brought
a young female by
only i had to refuse
because of too much red wine

as always, the phone company
never called

stayed at the job
stayed at the desk
read the fake news of the world
war, debt, destruction,
and this weekend's box office results
only i felt caged reading the news
being at that desk
i felt neutered
wanted to pace my little box
and grab everyone around me
to ask them
is this really it?

but they'll just tell me
that i've been drinking too much again
and i'll say, only enough
to protect my plastic soul

and she is on the evening bus
in tight black shorts
with a bikini top
and he is on the bus looking at her
and when they both get off
at the same stop
i wonder if we'll all make
the eleven o'clock news

on the couch
on the couch as the sun sets
with the wife
scotch after scotch after scotch
but i feel english
or i feel nothing
i let the fan blow my face
as millionaires toss balls
on television screens

i use that picasso biography as a coaster

and when i go to bed
in the blistering cold
waiting to do this all over again
i hope i feel as bloated
as a squid filled with black ink.


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Check out John's blog at WineDrunkSidewalk.blogspot.com.