" I alone could remark / on the hulking fish that met / the morning’s cool gambit."
"Seuss. What a weirdo. Jim Henson, even weirder. Puppets freak the hell out of me."
"Now, ground sopped / with water – ice traces / through the field, slivers / the landscape into green / watery scraps."
" I can't tell you why he was out that night, even though he told me that too."
WE WANT TO SAY:
It's April, and we're are huddled over some wafer cookies and coffee. We just finished getting through posting a very bizarre -- and happily so -- sixth issue. Six, at one a month, means half a year. Everything can of course be broken into fractions, but a half! C'mon.
That's practically a whole.
So, why bizarre? For one, half of our work is old news. Joseph Spece, from our February Issue is making like Teddy Roosevelt and re-appearing for a second run.
With the same (awesome) poems.
Only now they're read aloud.
Check that out -- like crouching below deck, ear to the wood, listening to the gale outside.
And, returning too, in similar form, Myr Ben Tripplets of Belleville. Got a chance to run him through a range of topics, from the lucky bandanas (which we've started wearing since) to the orange juice to the French, and why their movies don't always make it. Make sure to check out his piece from last month if you haven't.
He's charismatic. He rides a bike..
Pedal pedal, tip top, clip clop: Robin Greenfield.. We've loved her poetry since it was being collaged off of bathroom stalls. And it's better now. Off in the Wild Wild East of Europe, her poems are at the cliff's lip, staring down and down until they don't have a choice but to drop.
If the body hits the water is hardly important.
And, Osmond, who, may be the coolestly named writer we've had, Arnesto. We're still not sure how he drops us at his table in such short order, but we're in and out of his absolutely real world with the only kind of grin we know smackered all over our faces.
Read it twice, make some rice, eat the rice, and then spin back into whatever world wide web you've weaved for yourself.
Starting to get fun, isn't it?
E + J
When he's not doing odd jobs to fuel the gas habit, Osmond Arnesto is a working writer coming out of San Diego, CA. He'll be a graduate of that city's University of California come June. His prose has been featured in the Molotov Cocktail, and more of his work will be able to be read at fiction365 and Laptop Lit Mag in the near future. Having a website associated with him would also be pretty nice, but you can't have everything.
Robin Shira Edel Greenfield is a poet and anthropologist. She spends the majority of her time between the field, the laboratory of her head, and the page, where she conducts experiments with/on language in an attempt to convey the nuances of human existence. She is currently working on a collage project in Prague, Czech Republic, which utilizes poetry from manuscripts circulated in the Czechoslovak underground from the years 1968 to 1972.