Volume 65 • Issue 3 • January 2005
We’d like to thank all our contributors. Sorry we couldn’t pay for your great work but if any time you happen to be in the area you are all welcome in for a cup o’ tea, the wife makes lovely scones.
– Edward Eddington (Editor)
D.P. Bilson has published over 100 stories and poems, mostly to his dog, Charlene, whom he loves very much. His new story “A Dog I Love Very Much” is to be published later this year in practicwords.com. His first chapbook is due out next February though he has grave concerns that no one will read it.
D.H. Loorants is a poet from Denmark. He has a look of defiance.
P.K. Pereckington hails from North Dakota, USA. “This is my first poem published. I’m over the moon! I think I’ll write another!”
Eric Takindepizz – writes in French, English, Mandarin Chinese and Swahili, though he often gets confused. He has been published in many literary magazines that happen to like complicated literature, including highbrowandproudofit and The We Don’t Just Take Any Ol’ Thing Review. He currently lives with a tribe in Senegal who have the misfortune of having to put up with him.
Florence F.B.X.T.B.S.H.E.E.T.S. Mint – author, poet, singer, songwriter, dancer, photographer, sculptor, potter, babysitter, cellist, volunteer, and war researcher is very busy.
Mary Mackinbell has been writing poems for almost 40 years. And doesn’t it just show.
James F.K. Lookadis is a carpenter from Bethlebrook. He thinks that poetry is very much like putting together a chair. Especially when you stub your thumb and go raving around the place like a fuckin’ lunatic.
Rebecca E.D. Speck is a writer of erotic fiction in Oslo. She’d like to take her clothes off more but it is cold in Oslo. Her pictures of herself naked, and her poems, can be viewed on the internet. (Just key in her name on any search engine, they all know her).
Seen Pri is from somewhere but declines to give his address. His poetry is very short, composing of a few dots and dashes. People can “take what they want from this, it is open to worldly hyper-indiv-investigation. “No one quite knows what he’s on about so it’s gotta be good. He can be contacted by praying under a mulberry bush, or if you don’t have one, then the rotten bark of a fallen tree should suffice. He loves words like “suffice”. He is up for many distinguished awards, as well as being due in court for countless minor misdemeanours concerning arboretums.
P.P.P. Kerry is from New York and is thinking of getting rid of one of the P’s.
Tralp Trolp (pen-name) is a Swedish playwright and conducts workshops on standing and sitting. As most people can already manage these functions perfectly well without instruction, his workshops are infrequently attended. Next week he will be giving out free coffee and lovely little tarts his neighbour, Dorothy, bakes.
Dan Daerier is a twenty year old from Scotland. Someone recently told him that “toilets” is an anagram of T.S. Eliot. This has been life-changing for young Dan and he now spends his time making anagrams from all kinds of words. His hope is to do a whole collection of poems written anagrammatically, although no one thinks this a good idea. His poems “This” and “Carp” are published here.
Penny Perbroly writes poems for all the villagers in her area. None of them will as yet go out on a date with her, although one or two of the sheep-shearing women are said to have shown slight interest. She likes Emily Dickenson and the sounds bees make when they are kept in glass jars.
Peter Blunt is from Pittsburgh. “My poems don’t make any sense. Not even to me. I don’t know why I write them. Perhaps that’s the point! Aha!”
Patrick Sombree is a children’s author from Norwich. He writes mostly about dragons for “they are the most wonderful of all the creatures that have ever walked.” We do not have the heart to tell him they are in fact, mythological. His children ignore him.
Marianne F.G. Featherwell has just found out that George Eliot wasn’t a man. She has since withdrawn her poem from this publication claiming that she has been duped and now sits at home riddled with issues of sexuality.
Cecilia Ann was born in Cleveland, moved to Paris to study acting, moved to Brussels to study dancing, moved to London, Stockholm, Berlin and New Orleans, just for the hell of it, really. She moved back to Cleveland before joining a military wing of the Buffalo Knitting Alliance. Then she moved to Paris as she realised she had left her notebook there. She’s very tired. Her poem “Moving” is the only poem she has ever written and she’ll be damned if she has the energy for another.
Pelcher Glee is the co-founder of Pen Almighty Writers’ Group (note the apostrophe after the S, there have been arguments). He hopes to retire and settle down to full time writing if he can just get rid of all the loons that turn up to the Pen Almighty Writers’ Group on a Tuesday night.
Martine Maskell has spent years plagiarising other people’s poetry in an attempt to win prize money. Most organisations quickly cottoned on to this except of course for The Modewhistleeburough Town Review which thought her poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” was “a little odd…but well-written, and thoroughly deserving of a voucher for dinner for two at the Modewhistleeburough Town Diner.” Her poem “The Lake Isle of Inisfree” is published here.
Mari May makes sounds with her nose and then transcribes them. “It may look like nothing,” she says, “just gibberish. But isn’t that the point of it all?” Peter Blunt (above) agrees with her and wants her phone number.
Paz de Salt writes poetry while chanting Buddhist incantations. This really annoys the neighbours. “My poetry is a very personal thing, like my period,” she says. We tried to get her to change those comments but she refuses to be censored.