SHARON OSMOND

March 31, 2010

CORA IN WINTER

MMMMMMMMMMMMMsick of weather

leansMMMMMa reed in the blind of the river

covers her ears at four o’clock MMMMMMMagainst the clash

–carillonsMMMcordateMMMredMMMthick as thighs

blue, she saysMMMhollowlyMMMand sees behind closed eyes

bottle gentiansMMMcoraclesMMMthe cloistered botany of purple vespers

she turnsMMMweeds tangle her hairMMMplankton fills her mouth

in her goddess-graceful bonesMMMabsence MMMdespair

years in a riverMMMgreen as a tiled bathroom

and fullMMMof echoed vowels

MMM

MMM

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ERIC MAGRANE

March 31, 2010

Around Alpine

1. Escudilla Mountain

highMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmeadowMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMslope

MMMMMMMMMMrocky mountain iris, wild parsley

MMMMMstand of aspen, sheltering

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMlight

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMhigh in Engelmann spruce, warblers—

***

MMMMMMMMMMMMon top (10,800+)

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMhighest fire lookout in the state—

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMthe man looking for fires:

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM“being up here keeps me out of the bars,

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMI’m the highest paid person in the state—”

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PAUL A. TOTH

March 30, 2010

The following is the second chapter from Paul A. Toth’s 9/11 work, Airplane Novel, which he not-so-humbly considers the 9/11 novel due to the extraordinary inside-out viewpoint provided by the novel’s crucial conceit: the South Tower serves as the narrator.

In the first chapter, the South Tower introduced itself and Oswald Adorno, the first to set the towers on fire, first one and then later the other, before he was captured. This chapter continues Oswald’s story as other stories begin.


2

He Will Admit to a Fire

The fire began in the mind of a man coincidentally sharing the name of an assassin, Oswald Adorno. One Oswald fired shots, and the other fired fires. This is the start of all the conspiracies against me. Every spectacle makes diamonds of secrets difficult to differentiate from zirconia. I am adorned with Oswald and wear a necklace of conspiracy theories.

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PAUL BARRETT

March 30, 2010

Untitled

When Anne awoke the sun had just set and the air held a chill and, for a moment, she wondered where she was. She could hear the surf in front of her, could taste it, even, and the tip of the lighthouse could be seen over edge of the bluff. There were trees, and the road, and the close-cropped lawn, but nothing else. Anne was alone. She blinked her eyes, rubbed them, then sat up and wrapped her arms around herself against the cold. She turned her head and stared toward where she thought she had last heard Richard’s footsteps, furrowing her brow as if displaying an air of displeasure or irritation might allay her unease. She stood up, found a tenuous break in the leaves and followed it to the edge of the bluff, digging her nails into her bare forearms. Anne gazed down at the lighthouse, the tide pounding against its western edge. For the cold, and for the silence apart from the rhythmic surf, Anne was unable to speak, to call out for her husband, and it was this impotence that forced her to believe that he was nearby. The dunes went on for miles in either direction, besides, and the forest of eucalyptus, only growing darker, was long since impregnable, and so Anne stood, half-paralyzed, watching the waves buffet the lighthouse, biting her lip and gritting her teeth, yawning occasionally and despite herself. Read the rest of this entry »

G.P. SKRATZ

March 29, 2010

MY LIFE AS A DAVID BROMIGE FICTION

In the late 70s, David & I would often run into each other at San Francisco poetry parties where alcohol was consumed, pot was smoked & someone would always set a typewriter up with a blank piece of paper in hopes of fostering collaboration, usually long & rambling exercises in gibberish.

One night, David & I huddled by the typewriter in a more minimal mood, typing the following two collabs:

THE EDGE

Most tightrope walkers don’t die
from falling.

WHO WOULDN’T BE DEPRESSED?

There you are in the 12th century,
& there’s 8 more centuries to go,

at least.

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SATURDAY NIGHT!

March 28, 2010

IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT ! OUR STELLAR LINE-UP: ARIANNE ZWARTJES ! ERIKA WILDER ! LISA O’NEILL ! TOM NURMI !

ARIANNE ZWARTJES

March 28, 2010

EYES

The human eye is a small globe in an orbit. A bony orbit, to be clear: more than 80% of the eye’s globe is protected in this skeletal socket. Inside the eye, an irreplaceable clear gel called the vitreous humor provides the pressure to keep our eye in its round. Read the rest of this entry »

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