SHAWN LINDSAY ant ant ant ant ant 1995-1999

June 1, 2014 § Leave a comment

bit by bit the apple peel around my finger

 

nicked her shin sweeping up the spring water a new moon

 

a rolled-up fence in the hayfield you can taste the lightening

 

exactly how my boot treads sound crimpling snow

 

on the corner with walnuts in her teeth it’s raining

 

 

the spruce

matted thick with ice

my tiny fingers

 

 

still the first raindrops straight down my spine

 

dripping wet mulberry leaves a crow anxiously

 

 

a white flower

held in the cinder block

flooded eaves

 

 

an inkling

of the bee’s vision

purple clover

 

 

autumn insects-

her perfume suffuses

the pillow

 

 

train tracks

one leaf spinning

on the beech

 

 

placing a palm on the kitchen window the thunder’s warm

 

 

invited to feel

the stubble on her legs-

autumn rain

 

road salt

tumbling in the vacuum of

an ambulance

 

 

ant ant ant ant ant four

July 15, 2013 § Leave a comment

“In many ways the culmination of my original vision for the journal.”

ai li, Ronald Baatz, Peter Bakowski, Michael Basinski, Guy R. Beining, Ed Bennett, John M. Bennett, Ernest J. Berry, Diane Borsenik, Jason Sanford Brown, Tom Clausen, MTC Cronin, Bill DiMichele, A. di Michele, Dennis H. Dutton, John Elsberg, Crag Hill, Gary Hotham, Dorothy Howard, Jim Kacian, W. B. Keckler, M. Kettner, Jim Leftwitch, Shawn Lindsay, Paul Long, paul m., Robert Major, Errol Miller, Sheila E. Murphy, Dan Nielsen, Jim Normington, Simon Perchik, Anthony J. Pupello, George Ralph, William Ramsey, Dennis Saleh, Hiroaki Sato, Sam Savage, Caroline Steinhoff Smith, John Stevenson, Michael Dylan Welch, Arizona Zipper.

http://en.calameo.com/read/00251154550cdc71c99db

VARIOUS ARTISTS ant ant ant ant ant three

July 11, 2012 § 1 Comment

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under butternut tree

ears of leaves

fondle light

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Guy R. Beining

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for a while

I look at my bike

without me

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the way

they fit

in her hand

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all of a sudden

the t.v.

doesn’t work

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Tom Clausen

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skidding petal bruises

on the concrete

rain like butter

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small creases in

your information filled with

anxious juices

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A. Daigu

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a few feet

from our feet

the ocean bottom starts

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snow flakes

no one will miss

melt in her hand

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Gary Hotham

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hairs

the many ants

amidst the grass

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hearing a car

that never comes

high pine wind

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Jim Kacian

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stray dog   window reflecting blue sky

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boldly staccato

fissures singing along

maps set aside

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city limits   bulrushes

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year of the pancreas

sandwich for dessert

theater seats upside-down

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M. Kettner

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my dealer says he’s

worried about me gives me

extra for free

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Xie Kitchin

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invited to feel

the stubble on her legs

autumn rain

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Shawn Lindsay

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pebble splash

all I hurl

sinks

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William M. Ramsey

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white blossoms

a fly brings their

beauty to me

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Edward J. Reilly

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In the phone booth

a little girl

talks to God.

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A man asks directions

hand over

his mouth.

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Alexis K. Rotella

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Thesaurus of whites

Moth of months circling itself

Idiot savant

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Dennis Saleh

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Wakened by someone scratching at the window it’s the rain again

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Hot night   a yellow-toothed moon gnaws at the screens

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Turning on the light I become someone alone in a house

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Sam Savage

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the Loki seed

pushed down in the grey folds

until you laugh

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Sean Winchester

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VARIOUS ARTISTS ant ant ant ant ant four

January 15, 2012 § 1 Comment

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pagan tulip crescent often spot remove meadow

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Michael Basinski

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racked up in splendid blood

bones of the ryeman

in the thin wings of grass

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Guy R. Beining

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sigh   lens   hair

(retensions)

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hand around you faceless

daughter blue pond and

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heaving

other clouds

“my name”

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John M. Bennett

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molding oranges

numbers radiate from

a digital clock

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Jason Sanford Brown

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One little nail-hole

treasured as the gateway

its mystery breath

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Bill DiMichele

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waiting for her to stick her tongue in my mouth an autumn sunburn

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Chris Gordon

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most of beauty is iceburgs

the topic crowds with horror

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late patterns of thought

media pretends

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Crag Hill

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clear winter day

over the radio

the first bombs

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Dorothy Howard

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3am

divining god’s law

from raw onions

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gazing on

her sleeping back

sounds of rain

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Jim Kacian

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cattle sleeping

moonlight on their backs

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a cold scream

narrowly occult

ridge draped in dusk

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M. Kettner

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spitting lit matches

into gasolined brambles

shave till opening

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Buspar plural plural

speaking Farsi backwards

on the phone

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Xie Kitchin

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long-lit afternoon

a cut

unhealed

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ai li

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road salt

tumbling in the vacuum of

an ambulance

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Shawn Lindsay

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forked lightening

out over the ocean

her warm fingers

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evening breeze

a white moth floating

in the dishwater

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pear slice falling

to the kitchen floor

pale moonlight

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Paul M.

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dark

the TV ignores

everything

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John Stevenson

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on the drive

there and back

a pine needle in the wiper

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French graffiti   I drop a coin in the phone booth

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overdue   my dead neighbor’s library book

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Michael Dylan Welch

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