fall 2013
Table of Contents
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The New Old Voice
Jenni B. Baker
For the Directions The Future of Music Jen Currin
You Should Grow a Moustache William Doreski
The Unmanageable, A Cure Colin James
Engineering Processing Craig Kurtz
Brother Ellen MacDonald-Kramer
What Seems Solid Karen Neuberg
City Life: Citizen City Life: Summer Parties Laura Ritland
My son watching me smoke Sarah Roebuck
Testing Testing Is This Thing On
Russel Swensen
Pitcher Scales Russell Thornton
The Future of Music
Your father is dead.
On the streets of L.A.
On a train to Texas.
Your father in Winnipeg, black flies & snow.
We buzz inside frozen banks.
After it collapses: no whimpering, just work.
Melt the money: new jewelry.
Dog walking traded for fresh mint or childcare.
Frame the house, dig a basement—
Plants pattern the walls.
Can you believe we used to fly on planes?
(Shaking head): I once crossed the sea this way.
Walking through overgrown neighbourhoods with a friend,
we see the first monarch, perched on lilac.
We go on arguing, to see what it reveals.
It's disrespectful to expect too little of us.
To shield us from new experiences.
Someone had to smash the glass & pick the ripe apples.
We see a couch with a "free"—not a "broken"—sign, & sit down.
A music is beginning, just under my ribs.
My friend thinks she can face the sound.
With the blackberries before us.