Contributed By: Ryo Yamaguchi
The vendor calls the sandwiches by what’s not
on them. We are localized—everything
is at risk; the season hangs in a stiff haw.
As a way of being instituted, I have been copied.
I have been made in the image. O heuristic
of common motion, to where do I walk
when this has all gone to sleep? Will I be known
by what has gone missing?
Return to table of contents for Issue 6 Fall 2012
GNOMIC SAVIORS: EDITORS ON EDITING What happens to lit mags in a recession? moderated by Okla Elliott responses by Jacob Knabb, Ben George, Aaron Burch, Raymond Hammond, Anne McPeak, and Jodee Stanley Okla Elliott: Everyone is talking about the current economic situation in the US. How is this affecting literary journals, and what are the […]
how many statues of bandits extermination commanders forest caps? how many? how many street names of wealth mongers squares and viaducts of those who despised the people? how many? how many rotten within, bearing an upright stench, as if standing drains guts and venom? how many? how many are still watching us waiting for their […]
A 2007 Starburst commercial introduced the world to the Little Lad, a caricature of an old-timey foppish boy. The Little Lad dances about, tapping his toes and proclaiming his love for berries and cream.
