Death is a tribe
“Death is a tribe,” five poem from Linda Chown on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play accompanied by four digital artworks by Michael Dickel. Check out their work…
HaEtz HaChaim
A poem, Kiddush on the Solstice, and digital landscapes, HaEtz HaChaim 1–7, from Michael Dickel on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play.
Intrications 1–5 | Linda Chown
In·tri·ca·tion | \ ˌin‧trə̇ˈkāshən, -trēˈ-\ 1 obsolete : complication, complexity; 2 : interrelation, intermeshing —
Linda Chown’s 5 poems complexly intermesh voices, views, and arts.
crossing as we would | gary lundy | review & new poetry
Book review of gary lundy’s poetry collection, “each room echoes absence,” plus six new poems of his.
wet gems you’d strain to see | Jennifer Juneau
Moon Song, Driving it Home and Keeping it There, Vanishing Act | Three Poems by Jennifer Juneau | Meta/ Phor(e) /Play
Three poems | Karen Alkalay-Gut
Three poems from Karen Alkalay-Gut: What I need, I am a connoisseur of insomnia, and Avishag Speaks.
[sorties]: a collage in parts plumb | gary lundy
Six poems by gary lundy—through sights and sounds into observations close and deep.
A Walk in the Desert | Fiction by Mike Stone | Sunday Brunch Tuesday
Tuvi Ornat goes out for a walk, ends up in a cave. Could it be Plato’s? | Short Story | Meta/ Phor(e) /Play
Nex(+)us | Michael Dickel
Visual poetry/commentary/sociology/whatever it is to you. Nex(+)us by Michael Dickel on Meta/Phor(e)/Play.
Sunday Brunch Tuesday | Operator by day | Michael Dickel
A flight of fancy—escape through language, desire, politics—an end game—a poem by Michael Dickel.
we dream we are young | Sunday Brunch Tuesday | gary lundy
These 3 poems by gary lundy dance to music & drink coffee—reading your meaning, meaning your reading.
Wet Egret | Poem
Short poem and art—a cold and wet egret. I could say I have no egrets, but it wouldn’t be true.
Jerusalem’s Garden — Hybrid
A hybrid essay-fiction flash set in a mystical garden that doesn’t exist in Jerusalem Recalled but possibly in Jerusalem Imagined.
coffee brews Wednesday
As he wrote Musée des Beaux Arts
Auden danced with Isherwood. He asked about a young man
who had caught their attention long ago in Berlin.
Sunday brunch Tuesday
Deconstruction
I’ll take your hyper-inflated
phallus, ego-distended balloon,
id-fueled hot-air engine…
Faster than the speed of light | poem
Time twists around after scientists think they’ve accelerated a particle faster than light (it was a loose wire…)
Falling | poem
An old man remembers when time stood still as a bike tipped too far going around a corner and what it was like to fall out to space.
Falling out of the world | poem
A surreal poem in a minor key, falling out of the world and into the arms of one who lives in dreams.
