Sublimated Man [from ‘Hominids’]

by Dan Encarnacion





Whirlpool, whirlpool, what do you know – Mother’s                       in the kitchen
decallousing the mailman’s pinky toe –                    Whirlpool, whirlpool, get up,

jump – Mother’s               in the kitchen defibrillating the mailman’s arrhythmic
ka-thump –            Whirlpool, whirlpool, don’t you care – Mother’s             in the

kitchen delousing the mailman’s unguinal hair                        (he had overheard
someone say lowly that his father had gone down the tank)             His mother

told him that you must always keep            the toilet clean. She said bad things
come out            of a toilet not kept clean. She said his father              was a bad

man. He tried to make the toilet                  dirty as possible so his father could
come back out.                                                            Daddy, Daddy, get out, jump.




Dan squ - cust bw no cam raw vigDan Encarnacion earned an MFA in Writing at the California College of Arts and lives in Portland, Oregon where he co-curates the Verse In Person poetry series. The bleak of Bela Tarr, the spare of Supersilent, and the spike of quad-lattes will palpitate his palpus. Dan has recently been published in Eleven Eleven, Upstairs at Duroc, and forthcoming in Assaracus, The Los Angeles Review, Whiskey Island, The Blue Mesa Review and and/or. He was the featured artist for Reconnaissance Magazine’s 2013 issue and is included in the anthology Reduce: A Collection of Writings from Educe Journal 2012 (Educe Press).



from Lovings (3)

by Richard Kostelanetz

Kostelanetz 3




Painting by Leonid Drozner
Painting by Leonid Drozner
Individual entries on Richard Kostelanetz’s work in several fields appear in various editions of Readers Guide to Twentieth-Century Writers, Merriam-Webster Encyclopedia of Literature, Contemporary Poets, Contemporary Novelists, Postmodern Fiction, Webster’s Dictionary of American Writers, The HarperCollins Reader’s Encyclopedia of American Literature, Baker’s Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, Directory of American Scholars, Who’s Who in America, Who’s Who in the World, Who’s Who in American Art, NNDB.com, Wikipedia.com, and Britannica.com, among other distinguished directories. Otherwise, he survives in New York, where he was born, unemployed and thus overworked.

from Lovings (2)

by Richard Kostelanetz

Kostelanetz 2




Painting by Leonid Drozner
Painting by Leonid Drozner
Individual entries on Richard Kostelanetz’s work in several fields appear in various editions of Readers Guide to Twentieth-Century Writers, Merriam-Webster Encyclopedia of Literature, Contemporary Poets, Contemporary Novelists, Postmodern Fiction, Webster’s Dictionary of American Writers, The HarperCollins Reader’s Encyclopedia of American Literature, Baker’s Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, Directory of American Scholars, Who’s Who in America, Who’s Who in the World, Who’s Who in American Art, NNDB.com, Wikipedia.com, and Britannica.com, among other distinguished directories. Otherwise, he survives in New York, where he was born, unemployed and thus overworked.

from LOVINGS

by Richard Kostelanetz

Kostelanetz 1




Painting by Leonid Drozner
Painting by Leonid Drozner
Individual entries on Richard Kostelanetz’s work in several fields appear in various editions of Readers Guide to Twentieth-Century Writers, Merriam-Webster Encyclopedia of Literature, Contemporary Poets, Contemporary Novelists, Postmodern Fiction, Webster’s Dictionary of American Writers, The HarperCollins Reader’s Encyclopedia of American Literature, Baker’s Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, Directory of American Scholars, Who’s Who in America, Who’s Who in the World, Who’s Who in American Art, NNDB.com, Wikipedia.com, and Britannica.com, among other distinguished directories. Otherwise, he survives in New York, where he was born, unemployed and thus overworked.

A Street of Barking Dogs

byStephanie Lane Sutton



The first time I met your mother, it was sixteen months
after I last wanted to kiss you. That night, a strange cocktail
in your blood led us to the hospital threshold. I was told later,
remembering your laughing face in the rearview mirror:
there was sugar in your eyes; in your mouth, a tongue wanted
to quit. I begged it to move, for you to call my name, the only
word you needed. I handed your mother what I carried
for you: your jacket, one stack of poems, the same worry
of her whetstone face in my whetstone face.

After, I brought the extra linen out for the first time. Noticed
the curve of the mattress matched the curve of my body.
Once, I abandoned this bed for yours, to walk out your back
gate into the bright morning, the waltz a woman does
when pretending to be a wife. This slow travel of shoes
and hands was our one poem: a street of barking dogs,
a ballad of one-bedroom brownstones; today, an apologia
for a forgiveness that released you. The night was just
the night you almost stopped breathing, not the night
I learned the myth of orphic love, a body devoured, how
the detached singing head only knows love through song.

When I finally met your mother, it was no coda
in a symphony. It was your face in the rearview
mirror: reversed, laughing, backing away.




wowpsSTEPHANIE LANE SUTTON is a Chicagoan by way of Detroit. She is the author of a chapbook, Blood Dowry, and her first full-length manuscript was a finalist in the Write Bloody Publishing Author Competition ’13. Her other poems can be found online in elimae, Button Poetry, The Legendary, and Vocation: Vacation. She studied poetry at Columbia College Chicago.