Negative triptych by Nico Vassilakis

Nico Vassilakis' new book, PROTRACTED TYPE, a collection of vispo, is coming out soon
from Blue Lion Press. Nico lives in Seattle where he works for Fantagraphics Books.
Karen Randall is an artist who works in the media of words, digital collage (both sound and visual), oil painting,
and letterpress printing/artist’s books. She is the daughter of an astrophysicist & grew up playing with primitive
computers, a very cool chemistry set from the 50s, building short wave radios and a telescope; she still loves to
geek out with things both digital and mechanical. Her texts can be found online at EOAGH, TEXTSOUND, and
COUNTERPATH ONLINE, printed matter include The Extruded Gilgamesh (a chapbook published by Peter
Ganick), and she recently read at the Poetry Project at St. Marks. Her artist's books have been collected by
numerous colleges, institutions and private collectors including the Library of Congress. Images of her work can
be seen on line at www.propolispress.com.
“These dreamer types” by Chris Piuma.

about fairies being heavy weather about young couples could

agony through which These dreamer types sober sadness would
being dragged about Court hundred miles meant sitting there
brain whizzes along great beastly shark human affairs there
Court hundred miles human affairs there those stories where
great beastly shark brain whizzes along there looking brave
heavy weather about white flowers which about fairies being
human affairs there about fairies being brain whizzes along
meant sitting there those halting words agony through which
nerve cracked under there looking brave white flowers which
shape expects under agony through which great beastly shark
sober sadness would sober sadness would these matters claim
start singing duets meant sitting there nerve cracked under
there looking brave these matters claim three seconds under
These dreamer types shape expects under shape expects under
these matters claim those wedding bells those halting words
those halting words nerve cracked under Court hundred miles
those stories where those stories where These dreamer types
those wedding bells start singing duets those wedding bells
three seconds under young couples could start singing duets
white flowers which three seconds under being dragged about
young couples could being dragged about heavy weather about

Chris Piuma blogs about poetry at Buggeryville

(buggeryville.blogpost.com) but spends most of his time studying dead languages.
COBBING HOMAGE#2
“Growl”
“Shake”
reed altemus:

Reed Altemus's work has appeared in the following magazines since 2002:

Rampike (Canada), Offerta Speciale (Italy), Unarmed(USA), Open World (Serbia), Otoliths

(Australia), Lost & Found Times (USA), Boxon (France), SCORE (USA), Signal (Serbia), Blackbox (USA),

Moria (USA), Gestalten (USA), Blackbird (USA), Xtant (USA), fhole (Canada), Voce Piena (USA), Generator

(USA), Letter Founder (USA), Communicarte (Brazil), Miniature Forest (USA), Arnyekkotok (Hungary) , Big Ode

(Portugal), Wohnzimmer (Germany). In his spare time he enjoys ice cream and the Mekons.

Jim Leftwhich:

poet, mail artist, and archivist

currently organizing and participating in fluxus-related events and exhibits in roanoke, va, usa

author of Dirt, Doubt, Sample Example, The Textasifsuch, Pulsing Swarms & Squiggly Diagonals, Myesis, Death Text, Shrimp Teeth, Trashpo
and Art Bang

collaborative works include Sound Dirt, with John M. Bennett, Acts, with John Crouse, iTopia, with Scott MacLeod, Telephone Poles, with
Jukka-Pekka Kervinen, and Shadowed Truth, with Andrew Topel

editor of the print magazines Juxta and Xtant (1994 – 2005)

since 2005 editor of the blog zine Textimagepoem

http://jimleftwichtextimagepoem.blogspot.com/
free doll inside – page one and two: -------Daniel f. Bradley

we say all we want is well-mannered whiny do-me queens accessorized with lick-spittle
every surface a resolve that i should become a student of coarse no one is ever arrested

in fact the number one too much television low self-esteem disappointing grades and poor
conjugal relations can just stop snowing any day now

go crazy with hunny hives and brains all that shit in her mouth with huge crops immortal
hearts witch never wish bloom barbie can do indescribable things

Let me start by introducing myself. I was 13; my sister was 14, this particular winter. As I
look back on it; the day I raped my mother for the first time, all those years ago, she got
exactly what she deserved. It had been 2 years since my husband died and left me alone
with a 13 year old son Alan and his older 17 year old brother Jake, Jake was staying home
and going to college locally. I must hurry and get this all down on paper before it's too late.
Hi there. My wife and I

got your love muscle sucked off by vatican officials keep it under wrap there are no
comments for this you can be the first to comment on this comment is moderated & does not
accept all posts are monitored and any comments found to be abusive or offensive become
so why not set yourself so flee

haven’t tried any manufactured fine latex sculpture of the goddess kali in pure gold strict
numbered edition baby spice sad oh say you didn’t kabal secret sign symbol gone wild dna
transforms next door reported that the house fucking disappeared

in an often overlooked perhaps even dull tweed-wearing realism romp through the valley
which take it up slowly glacial pace down from the summit up to the street barricades

my soul flushed blood betrayed thirst and low grade philosophies most comprehensive
morbid reflex erections dam debauchery uniquely handmade and crafted doll petite scarlet
doll unnamed voodoo on the morrow was passed the awful boundary between life felt not
deep
designed to give you instant gratification and a misdemeanor this uniquely eye ancient art
and guilty pleasure man eating chomping through our beloved simulacrum those not firmly
on the pulse of local news constantly malfunctioning majorly major ways this evening when
we jerked and slowed into a complete coma

would love match my barbie spoiler nothing sharp destroyed fair child murderer murderer
we’re famous and everyone thought our youngest daughter was adorable and a company
started making dolls to flattered you know what i mean by replica accents of wonder and
discovery and complete mimicry

had been married about 5 years when she confided to me one day that she and a friend
from high school use to explore each other's tits and kiss when they were younger. The
events in this are BASED on real events. It was a normal birthday for me. Bonnie decided
she had better meet with Tyler’s friend Jimmy; to be sure he wouldn’t reveal their secret.
Bonnie was a grandmother before she was 40. It was a Friday and my Mom had gone to bed
at about 7.30pm. Okay, I

need a she-wolf for all the occasions when big-dog isn’t enough till proclamations every scar
a star second name is nasty at times when men loving to taste the glories of horse oh cybele
generous cybele with children heavy with obedience to pfizer we stroll in the milkshake yard

chimpanzee hardcore mystic plays to the brilliant sunshine wrought havoc in teen autumn
wand dudes love each other and now i mean so what if they're slaughtering their infernal
society kill off all the men and women forced to join in

we all get a shitty variety of stupid devotees getting their heads shaved before they perform
in temple dedications or get to hockey camp spent shame felt days roaming her valleys

and we have certain games that he seems to have problems with and she was wanting
things that fall under moved in together eat together sleep together and wake up

much as i want to forget vampire text implosion main tarot insult of the submissive command
me and sometimes i completely accommodate a blurry photo and this sent me back to a
leave it to beaver type family stronghold of valium for all ages and wanks in the building
seven of swords goes for that kind of dick gig mirror arcana hot even for a second
Daniel F Bradley says

“ i live in Toronto with my girl friend and our child. i am listening to Ravel while i am work at my

day job.i have numerous books and such. i edit a little newsletter called fmachinery which prints

visual poetry. submission can be directed to fmachinerypoems@gmail.com ”

John Moore Williams is a poet working in visual and verbal strains. He has authored three chapbooks
so far: I discover i is an android (Trainwreck Press, 2008), writ10 (VUGG Books, 2008) and, with
Matina L. Stamatakis, Xenophoria (forthcoming, 2009). Poems have appeared in such journals as
Shampoo, Otoliths, BlazeVox, Turntable + Blue Light, The New Post-Literate and ditch, among
others.
Better an egg today than a chicken tomorrow.

She’s wearing a trim black coat

can’t take her dog on the escalator

Problem before her graspable

She drives

at a reckless speed

He isn’t the only one taking pictures

Who’s that without green gloves

These are intimate questions

Those are secrets

It excites her when later

he removes her panties with scissors

Here is the pencil. There is the pen

He prefers small-breasted women
I have small feet
You throw a great party
I should say you give one
Her hot chocolate isn’t hot enough
Problem doesn’t phase her
makes sure she walks in the middle
We all have the same expression

The dignitary receives a key

wears a little hat in case of rain

The subject can be a person

Now they propose he wait—motor idles

windows up, much prefers riding trains, subways

anything on a track

Be careful how you cross

little running-tiptoe conversations

The gate opens. The car enters

They might hurt her

take this opportunity to warn

Many crouch, many run

Form a question using the future

Or a phone will beep

I feel cornered in the open

Children makes faces

Change machine spits

an excess of quarters

Her bra unhooks

Keep your broken arm inside your sleeve.

I bleed bright white

Whales lost in the shipping lane

Beware what crawls out of the sea

He uses the remote to pop the trunk

Face of little puzzles

Can’t trust me

I feel cornered in rooms

Squirrels might chew through the wire

Children beg to ride the scariest ride

Chimney collapses

Look where you’re walking

Beware what crawls

Things grow at night

Face of little puzzles

Tear your cookie to pieces

I feel cornered in rooms

A little noise makes

Children beg to ride the scariest ride

She’s a big one for hard-boiled eggs

Pull it

Look where you’re walking

I bleed bright white

Things grow at night

Baby awake

Tear your cookie to pieces

Squirrels might chew

Pull it

Chimney collapses

Jane Rice says

“ In all my poems I seek to create a tension between coincidence and the expectation of

sequence. The mind yearns to find meaning in the connections of things. Yet we ascribe meaning
only to a fraction of the coincidences that surround us. An earlier version of “Better an egg today
than a chicken tomorrow.” was first published in viviparous blenny, volume one, 2008. My poems
have appeared in various journals including Barrow Street, Diner and viviparous blenny. Many have
been posted on various Web sites. A letterpress edition of Portrait Sitters was published by Propolis
Press, 2007. Line Drawings was a finalist in the Center for Book Arts chapbook competition, New
York, 2007. Crayfish Tale, a book-length manuscript, was a finalist in the Colorado Prize for Poetry,

”
2005. I live in San Francisco and pursue my interest in poetry, art, and art history.
blue sleep

cloud

trails

cloud

trails

fol

low

ing

cloud

trails

west

th

ro

gh

bl

ue

west
th

ro

gh

bl

ue

to

the

sea

to

the

is

lands

to

the

sea

leep

to

s
leep

leep

with

the

is

lands

in

blue

blue

leep

blue

leep

leep
with

the

is

lands

Shift Poems

1.

(stay)

(stay)

here

there

star

2.

stayr

3.
rarefy

rarefy

this

that

is

at

4.

Sparlk.

Wounded side

wounded

side

tender

wound

wounded

side

tender

wound
wounded

inside

tender

wound

wounded

inside

tender

wound

tender

wound

wounded

side

tender

wound

wounded

side

wounded

inside
tender

wound

wounded

inside

tender

wound

soft

soft

soft

softside

soft

soft

soft

soft

inside
wounded

side

tender

wound

wounded

side

tender

wound

soft

wounded

side

soft

inside

soft

wounded

side

soft

inside
wounded

melts

melts

melts

like

wax

melting

like

wax

melting

inside

melting

inside

melting

inside

melting

inside
like wax

like ice

like wax

like ice

soft

soft

soft

melting

side

soft

soft

soft

melting

wound

melting

ice
melting

wax

melting

ice

melting

wax

wax

wax

tender

wounded

side

tender

wound

tender

wounded
side

tender

wound

inside

Stephen Nelson was born in Motherwell, Scotland in 1970. He

blogs visual, minimalist and found poetry at
http://afterlights.blogspot.com.
He lives in a tower block but would really like to live by the sea.
Gertrude Stein

intrudes greet deserting true resined gutter ruins gettered

intrudes egret reinserted tug singed utterer stringer etude

nudist regreet reinserted gut signed utterer steering tured
nudist greeter interested rug seeding turret steering trued
dustin regreet ingested truer design utterer resetting rude
dustin greeter insetted urger deigns utterer reseting tured
insured getter resigned utter trusteeing red reseting trued
sueding tertre redesign utter trusting deere integers tured
sueding terret grinders tutee intrust degree integers trued
deserting ture designer utter reusing retted integers tured

integers trued senti gertrude rinse guttered united regrets

gentries tured inset gertrude resin guttered ruined getters
gentries trued singer uttered reins guttered ruined getters
teentsier drug signer uttered singe turreted inured getters
sternite urged resign uttered sengi turreted inured getters
steiner trudge reigns uttered untried greets deterring suet
interest urged nigers uttered untried egrets trendier guest
entries trudge siren guttered intrude greets tinder gesture
tines gertrude serin guttered intrude egrets interred guest
stein gertrude risen guttered untied regrets tinged reuters

tinted resurge nereid gutters ungirt reseted retting reused

endite rutgers denier gutters turing steered integer rusted
ringed trustee uttering seder turing reseted integer rudest
reigned utters uttering reeds truing steered integer duster
reigned truest uttering reeds truing reseted trine gestured
reeding utters uttering deers rutting seeder triene trudges
reeding truest trueing rested rutting reseed niter gestured
grinder suttee trueing desert treeing rusted inter gestured
engird trustee nuttier edsger treeing rudest inert gestured
reined gutters ungirt steered treeing duster entire trudges

renig trusteed enders guttier tenured tigers urgent dieters

reign trusteed denser guttier tenured tigers tureen stidger
niger trusteed resurgent tied denture tigers tuner digester

dentures tiger resurgent tide denture tigers tenure stidger

untested irreg resurgent edit tuned register neuter stidger
sunder tergite resurgent diet nudger testier tun registered
nursed tergite entrust edgier gerund testier nut registered
detergents uri stunt greedier detergent uris regent studier
sender guttier ensure gritted tender gutsier regent dustier
resend guttier entrees turgid rented gutsier green detritus

genre detritus.

Karri Kokko (b. 1955) is a Finnish poet living in Helsinki, Finland. He has published several collections
of poems and works of conceptual writing. His next book, Töllötin, a recount of what he saw and
heard watching television during 99 sessions, will be out in June by ntamo.
A review of “T=I=D=Y language”

(Daniel ƒ Bradley, outlands Eight, 2008)

When I first received this book in the post from

Daniel (with a load of other interesting poetic goodies), I was
first impressed by the cover design, all gleaming white and
interestingly textured, with an asterisk as a symbol below the
title, almost like a safety sign. You can imagine it on the door
of an electrical generator. It also resembles a puckered arsehole.

This is appropriate, considering that some of the content is

sexual. Some people may find some of the imagery in this book
shocking but , for me at least, it is a positive shock. The kind of
thrill you get when reading good poetry.

And it is very good poetry. Disparate thoughts and streams of

consciousness flow together fullstopless, banging together,
making sparks! The use of language is tactile, almost bodily; the
references to body parts and fluid abound, jangling with other
images with little regard for conventional syntax structures.

Words and phrases intermingle together, ideas merging and then

splitting off, shooting away at odd angles. It is not always clear
where one poem ends and the other begins, but for all its
disjunctedness it has a feeling of being a whole in an strange
sort of way.

The use of language ranges from the profane to the witty,

feeling collage-like.

The reference to L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poetry in the title of the book is

an appropriate one, as you can certainly see the influence of
that movement in the works within. The way he subverts the
conventional notion of a narrative for example, though this is a
feature of most non-mainstream contemporary, non-visual poetry.
Sometimes, when reading linier poetry, I read it out loud to
myself. With these poems it was slightly difficult.

This may however be my dyslexia making me struggle to read the

long sentences out loud. Who knows? This is not actually a bad
thing, just an observation.

I think this is a very good book. It is certainly a welcome

addition to my collection of books of poetry.

I highly recommend this book. It’s because I think this book is

really worth reading. Buy a copy. You’ll like it.
Through the chink in the Fence

For Petra

through the chink in the fence--

a strip of sky & earthen wall--

in what faraway land

among hostile forests--

to sit in someone else's room

among books not mine
& write about the sky

to pen ghosts' writings,

take dictations

of phantom songs

the untold, the unwritten

hidden in plain sight

David-Baptiste Chirot b. lafayette, indiana, usa. grew up in vermont.lived & worked in arles & paris, france, wroclaw, poland,
hastveda, sweden,boston and milwaukee last 15 years. essays and 200 pieces at davidbaptistechirot.blogspot.com and google
search for essays, poetry, visual/sound/performance works and reviews and interviews. work has appeared in more than 70
journals in 14 countries, 6 anthologies, 7 books, 2 chapbooks and over 300 Visual Poetry and Mail Art exhibitions in countries the
world over. He works "with a profound faith in the found which is everywhere hidden in plain sight."
Michael Jacobson is a writer and artist from Minneapolis, Minnesota USA. He has two books
published: The Giant's Fence and Action Figures. Besides writing books , he curates The
New Post-Literate: A Gallery of Asemic Writing. Currently, he is busy dreaming up a new
book.
For those who want to print this issue out and make it a print zine,
this is the back
cover:
 Finish.
Don’t bother reading this page. There’s nothing on it.