Lost Wallet by Devin Johnston

Obstinate substance
  survives the river,
     survives the astringent

tannery, kitsch,
  dead smelt,
    and silver-fish.

Surviving pleasure,
  its suck
     leaves us thinner

and each bank
  counselled as to
     its flow

concretized to move
  more swiftly, elsewhere
     distressed to slow.

Posts of pale
     drift past

as money stirs
  the tacky tar
     where once unfurled

a Bourbon flag.
  We have brought
     everything to market.

Cat Balthus & Mitsou When light has come
  I stalk the flies, or steel
among the folds of down
  caloric heat.
  Quite delicate
and full of doubts, I scent a change
from what was here a foreign tinge.
What reason could
  I give / what would I give
to reason? The smoothest manners hide
  some furtive love:
  I know and have
thus arched my back of static fur
against a boot from out-of-doors.

Issue Six

Editorial: Out of Africa


Harriet Zinnes

Reesom Haile

Michael Smith

Michael Leddy

Frank Rogaczewski

Devin Johnston

Steven Teref

Samuel Hazo

Mechanics of the Mirage

And: The Word from Asmara

And: The Word from India

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