Mike Estabrook
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The important words are underlined by Maurice Oliver
Did I ever tell you about the time oil from/ a leaky canister seeped into my thoughts/ then expressed its dissatisfaction with my/ sexual life.
Nonesuch Dreams and Wills by Ray Succre
Her discovery of him will also be gradual/ [X=X+1]; she does not startle anymore./ She has been alive [cavity] before.
He: How we gonna do it?
She: Don’t ask me, you’re the one with the gun
He: Can’t use the gun.
She: Why?
He: Never bought any bullets...visual art centered around one dietary staple
Sometimes Suicidal by Aimee DeLong
Sometimes a suicidal person fixes her hair. Sometimes she looks in the mirror to smooth it. Sometimes she goes four days without washing it.
Last Night at Southport by Justin Hyde
tell her i'm a butterfly
with sixteen wings
beating in
succinct
anarchy.Categorical Imperatives by Maurice Oliver
Try to imagine a small room where the only/ furniture is a TV. The TV has a hundred/ channels and two sets of memories.
1. A canoe full of moose meat
2. Beerwigs
3. The Great Vodka Massacre
4. The Bootlegger & the Professor
5. Puke-O-Gram
What's your favorite restaurant?
Not Your Average Joe’s
What's your favorite poem? (provide the link if you can) Dante’s Divine Comedy
What's your favorite plant? (provide the link if you can) the rose
What's your favorite totem for your personality? (provide the link if you can) I don’t know what this means
What's the address of your blog, if you have one?
don’t have one
What's your favorite website? I don’t have one
What's your favorite side? right side
Look to the left right now. Turn back to the computer and describe what you just saw.the printer to the computer
Make your own question and then answer it. (Leave your question here for others to answer)will the medical “community” ever find a cure for sciatica? probably not
Mike Estabrook has some work published in this issue of litchaos. Here's one poem now.
to Patti
That steroid injection
I had this morning
in my spine – well,
I thought you
were the only thing
that took my breath away.
I can't talk in the human way, I tried to learn without success. I could only watch her day after day, as the seasons began to change and the world grew colder.Now that I think about it;/ I’ve realized I don’t like poetry/ and I don’t like literature; I/ hate movies and music is nauseating;/ my job is a boring mind-/ numb.
A short movie
Contagion necessaries: sensorial numb by Kenneth Mulveyreach into pocket/ for a light/ to find I pissed/ myself again
Visual Art by Claudio Parentela
Poverty by Papa Osmubal
I saw a handful of dead cockroaches/ on the floor this morning./ You must have filled the house/ with your endless litany of dammits’ and ‘bullshits’/ while chasing them with last week’s paper/ you borrowed next door for the purpose.
dance a line by Sophia Kidd
i get stuck thinkin' of words/ and meanings of you and of him/ the smell of leaf/ on dirt
