If your damn problems are so damn grand, then get a grander god/ to eat them whole -/
beef and bones and eyelashes and all./ It don’t even barely chew – just cocks it head back/ and knocks it down.
Chances and Paydays/ Dale Marie Prenatt
But houseplants/ don’t know hardships/ Indoor cacti/ can’t imagine the desert…
In five years I’ll be forty/ Michael Seymour Blake
“Where the fuck is Michael Stipe?”
Featured Artist: Michael Mau
It is the juxtaposition between smooth exterior and corrugated or honeycombed interior that provides the perfect medium for my relief carvings. I portray what is often ignored on a medium that is often wasted.
Our Lady of North Florida Noir: Steph Post
“I did have a desire to write about ‘my kind of people’ with a sense of grace and beauty. Meaning, I didn’t want to just relegate these characters to the fringe or box them into stereotypes…”
Poor Talk! with Elizabeth Catte and Misty Skaggs
I showed up at the Millennium Cincinnati for the annual Appalachian Studies Association conference with a reservation and trash bag luggage, and some serious class guilt for asking the bellhop to drag my crinkly burden all the way to the eighteenth floor…
Rabble Lit Issue 2/ A New Poetry
“The same people who are murdered slowly in the mechanized slaughterhouses of work are also arguing, singing, drinking, dancing, making love, holding the streets, picking up weapons and inventing a new poetry.”
-Raoul Vaneigem
Charlottesville/ Alice Beecher
the woken memories of our grandfathers/ the hot south spinning into sap/ the taut cobweb of bracing knuckles/ a symbol like a broken limb/ the fear that repeats itself like water/ the fear that repeats itself like water
RABBLE LIT 