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 Luke Skoza

Soggy Lettuce

the blister that loneliness created on Jake's
 left foot had disappeared for a short time and would return,
and He was as lonely as a single spec of shaved
 wood that was left on a woodcarver's shop floor after they

 swept it, which made his optimism a single
pen mark on an otherwise blank and empty piece of notebook
paper. And, a small gust of wind might blow him away
 if someone opened the door. This motherly world

 transformed him into a piece of lettuce
 that was fresh one day and soggy the next. This sogginess made
his dejection a blister on his foot that was the size
 of a golf ball; he wanted it to burst and cover his foot

with a happy puss. But, he still hoped that he would see
Dana again, and this spec of optimism was
 a pair of Yves Saint Laurent Chelsea boots buried under a pile
 of shoes from Payless. He had to dig through the shit

 in order to find it even while his problems were an overflowing
 garbage can. But, he always found some way to take it out
 and knew that life is as strange and beautiful
 as a man banging a knife against a tin coffee
 creamer container and calling it music.




The Aunts and Morphine

Jakes loneliness was a single nuclear missile in an abandoned
 Russian missile silo that was leaking uranium
into the ground until Mandie came and repaired it.
She was just in time too; otherwise, this missile would have poisoned

 a town's water supply if it was alone any longer.
 But, he also still knew that rejection and pain are annoying
 aunts that you have to visit every weekend and can't escape.
He still had a strange urge to smile; it felt like

a caterpillar tickling him and crawling on his
 skin. He didn't know how to respond to this strange
 sensation, but his short fuse was a loaded gun that he nearly shot
 and killed his chances with Lydia, and her need to wait

was a half-finished painting. The completed side was beautiful
 and the unfinished part was gray and bleak.
She made his itch more intense every time that
 he saw her; it was a sponge that continued
 to absorb dish soap and water until it nearly

 burst. He thought that she would keep her promise to move
faster; this knowledge was a safety pin that replaced the main
button on his jeans and kept them from falling off.
 But, his brief infidelity was an alarm clock

buried underneath a few jackets in his closet that nearly
went off. He still found this clock and destroyed it before it made
 a sound. human flaws then became blotches of spilled red paint
that had been soaking into a white carpet for three straight days

 and have burrowed in and will never be removed. He left her and his
 loneliness made him feel as if he was a page of a rolling stone
 magazine that was ripped out and thrown in the snow. He would
deteriorate if he was alone in the snow any longer. But, the text

he received from Lydia a few days later was
a shot of morphine that made him see that the lawful
 harmony of the universe resembled the perfect
 blend of whiskey and ice that kept him sane and gave him hope.




The Bed Bugs

An unfastened button on a men's dress shirt
 resembled Jake's androgyny, and it allowed him
 to breath freely and made him think that one can only
be near perfect like a pair of boots that are slightly
too big around one's toes, and he then forgave Trisha

because everyone has their idiotic moments. They
 are annoying chocolate stains on one's jeans, yet
  remind us not to take ourselves too seriously. But,
 his luck with women was as good as a tuna's when

 it tried to escape a hungry great white shark. And, his
contempt and hatred for women was a hangover
 that only they could alleviate because they were sometimes
 like a pint of Stella Artois at his favorite bar.

 However, he moved on because Trisha was a pint
glass of miller high life that he liked, but didn't think
  was great. His suffering then became a blister on his
 left foot, yet he knew that it would linger for a time

and then disappear for a while. Until then, the bed bugs
 of stress and dejection kept crawling on his
face, and they wouldn't let him sleep. He had to find some
 way to crush them in order to feel sane and satisfied again.



Luke says, "I'm Luke Skoza, and I recently graduated with BA in English from Southern Illinois University Carbondale. Also, I won the 2009 Academy of American Poets prize for best undergraduate poem during my time at SIUC. Now, I've moved to Chicago in order to work and write for about a year; then, I plan on attending graduate school at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland."