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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume X, Issue II

..:: POETRY ::..


..:: PROSE ::..
..:: OTHER ::..

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   Contributor's Notes

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   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II
   Volume X, Issue I

 
Poetry


Thought-provoking songs
David McAleavey

 

My dreams work, not the way my colleagues work or the indigenous farmers of Mesoamerica whose holidays are merely necessary festivals, not that they don't also dream, not that my colleagues don't, not that museums are not dreamlike and novel despite their Latin name, not that song again on the loop, not from the flowing stream that same fish, not that I dislike it or can do anything other than recommend it to you, gently baked with lemons and capers, a saucy Sancerre to go with, not that your date is so pliable as that, not that the only goal is to score, not that the birds think anything different, instinct what they go on, go on, have the baby, not that I'm offering advice, I'm preliminarily investigating based on your sales pitch, not that you aren't trying to take something from me, you are, I'm trying to give it to you, it's part of the theorizing going on all around us, not that the birds are doing it, the mockingbird on top of the chimney cap this morning for instance, no doubt he thought I should have stayed in bed, staging my so unstoppable dramas, you may have the same doubts, still, in this tiny space touching everything, we seem to have headed precisely here, head-on.

Engineering the world made money for historical individuals whose goal was simply to profit, not to say they had no theory about what's good for the rest of us, not to dismiss a pleasure principle, its rosy hypothesis, thanks for the nourishment along the way, not that you were much of an investor after all. You were one of those who takes an old oil drum and makes a drum and drums.

 

 

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