HAIKU IN ENGLISH: THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS ant ant ant ant ant

January 30, 2014 § 1 Comment

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the cloud-edge on the horizon deer head in the freezer

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Jon Cone

Issue Six

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where the lines end and the absence begins an architecture or so

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Chris Gordon

Issue Five

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clear winter sky over the radio the first bombs

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Dorothy Howard

Issue Four

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whittling

till there’s nothing left

of the light

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Jim Kacian

Issue Five

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your hair drawn back

the sharp taste of radishes

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M. Kettner

Issue Five

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meadow speaking the language she dreams in

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Scott Metz

Issue Nine

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CHRIS GORDON a book of matches

January 29, 2014 § Leave a comment

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snow from Xmas still painted on the porno shop

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thaw before New Year’s silverfish in the bathtub

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three lentils in the beach bathroom drain

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my son says I’m not playing I’m having fun

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at the doctor we divide by two subtract one

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the button I sat on falls to the bus floor

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drawn to the lollipop ants sizzle in the sun

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panties tossed on the melon rinds wet in spots

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over time the little steps take us far away

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my brother I don’t really know it’s his birthday

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hoofprints on the beach seaweed entangled with bones

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morning the bathroom empty except for my razor

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you write a list I let your tea steep too long

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with a book of matches you know how many are left

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lit by the window sawhorses covered with snow

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the corner where the blackbird attacks a rag on fire

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deep in the river a tiny moth leaves my head

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CHARLES HENRI FORD for Hypnos (Special Effects Remix)

January 20, 2014 § 2 Comments

FOR HYPNOS

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all rooms are bedrooms

imbued with trickster luster

see-through parasites

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there’s a vapor dome

with eyelid catalepsy

scraping pale carrots

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towards bloodless gadgets

rapid loading elegance

the quick release prong

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husk of what’s to come

javelins of recording

listening forest

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moldy fig in front

a quenching apparatus

glandular tubing

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to plow a furrow

tumescent spores are released

woman-shaped women

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steel-clad hoisting ropes

to sail with sealed orders

light was meant to be

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wild cow milking

trapped between amplifiers

gift of escapades

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a four-letter word

the name of the safety-pin

fumed with icy jade

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it’s a cult revel

through the heart of Orion

a whitish-green glow

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peeling scorched vermin

ambrosial split seconds

black is for Hypnos

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your thistles vibrate

generation of transplants

dissolves on his tongue

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pinching a tulip

distrust of alien broods

a jasper necklace

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swamps of radium

the ticks go in winter time

made of snow fence slats

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don’t get lost on Mars

to spherical overtones

owls will prophecy

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face of oval scorn

I’d show your mistress quickly

the cloves and nutmegs

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CHRIS GORDON a ring around the moon

January 19, 2014 § Leave a comment

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after the movie
we find the ants
in the bag of candy
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footfalls on the wooden
floor I can hear what
I did to your knee
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the foundation separates
from the house ants
carry off a beetle
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silence on the phone
a spider darts out
from the matchbook
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the crow in
the road refuses to move
a thunderstorm at dusk
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at the bookstore
we pretend we don’t
know each other
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yellow dawn waking
up to the taste of
vomit on your lips
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a bit of your breast
as you lean over for
a piece of cold pizza
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where someone walked
the grass has lost its blue
sheen of dew
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at dusk the heat
inside the house pushes
the door open a little
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your panties soaking
in the sink today
the crocus bloomed
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the bank teller tells
me there’s a ring
around the moon
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she’s taking a long
shower I add up
the receipts
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empty nut shells blown
by a warm wind a rag
that smells of gasoline
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waves of heat rise
from a tin roof a balloon
in the distance
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a few grains of sugar
at the edge of the fire
slowly smoking
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a woman in white
furry boots I drop a handful
of screws
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at the end of January
we see the sun your results
off the chart
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after our fight
we both wind up at
the pineapples
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CHRIS GORDON the yellow payphone

January 5, 2014 § 1 Comment

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it only takes

incoming calls

the yellow payphone

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when you buy

a newspaper

the yellow payphone

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the yellow payphone

the only one

in the neighborhood

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next to

the ice machine

the yellow payphone

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if she’s angry

call her on

the yellow payphone

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additional charges

may apply

the yellow payphone

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the store’s closed

it’s still lit up

the yellow payphone

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calls may be

monitored on

the yellow payphone

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it smells

like cologne

the yellow payphone

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a call from

the sheriff forwards to

the yellow payphone

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all I remember

when I get back

the yellow payphone

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