The afternoon's mail brought my contributor's copy of Not One of Us #86, containing my poem "Northern Comfort." I wrote it out of my discoveries of the ghost-ground that has been directly underfoot all my life and longer, from King Philip's War to Pomp's Wall, and this administration and its murderous terror of history. It shares a page and an issue of emptiness with a precisely targeted incantation by Gwynne Garfinkle as well the equally hollowing fiction and poetry of Kris Schokrowsky, Penny Durham, Carsten Cheung, Jennifer Crow, and more. I almost referred to the covert art by John and Flo Stanton, obscured by shattered webs of negative space or the rust-light of abandoned industries. Subscribe! Contribute! Make the right kind of strangeness in this world. I am off to South Station to collect one north-traveling seal.
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Page Summary
Active Entries
- 1: And four hours north of Portland, the radio flips on
- 2: Shaking off the echoes of yesterday
- 3: Everything I love is on the table, everything I love is out to sea
- 4: He tried to run away, well, she hit him with a hammer
- 5: There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard
- 6: She's got a common full of love
- 7: Counts the waves that somehow didn't hit her
- 8: If I were you, I'd be out on the town
- 9: Sit and watch my TV set
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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