Archive for October, 2009

Last call brings out all the old hounds. Grey haired men in wifebeaters, bulging guts and speedos appear like cockroaches and try to snatch up the so called “cute ones” who are too drunk to drive home. I’m thirty-five, so neither young or old pay attention to me.. »

Poetry by Robert Lamirande

The dashboard thermostat hits 101°,
and while this heat wave is nothing new,
lately it’s got people talking. For instance,
when I brush my teeth, my gums won’t stop. »

Fiction by Shome Dasgupta

Did you know? Did you know that he and he took out my spinal chord and used it as a piano-. »

The main thing I see in the writing is this strain of what I call “hysterical lyricism.” Certain younger writers are just so saturated by visual media. »

Poetry by Kate Durbin

Spring-stink, the world heaves with lust.
Mother sniffs sex from the kitchen window:

Woodsmen stripping trees,
Housewives mounting. »

A poem by Cara Dorris

School taught you they’re sad plants,
the only tissued ones
to never seed or flower,
never. »

by Ariel Baron-Robbins

In my drawings and photographs, I continue to explore how to depict movement; I want to know what the process of drawing looks like visually from the outside. I turn my body into the drawn mark and use its dance-like motion as an abstracting tool to discuss new interpretations on figure drawing. In my short video pieces, I eliminated the marks but keep the physical action because I want to focus on body movement. The mark itself is essentially only a by-product of action, but the action is fleeting, unless trapped by some sort of recording device. If I don’t make a mark, I can still make an action and perhaps that action can stand in for the. »