OPEN SUBMISSIONS

wane3-cop-cop-sm

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

Come to the table, eat. Build the kitchen, cook. Walk into the forest, sleep peace. Community is you. SUBMIT

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

You cannot just say it. You must stuff it — desired wanted loved — into the culture. SUBMIT

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

Put pen to paper for revolution. Not their revolution; you’re revolution. Slick little bombs cartoon bombs like clouds. SUBMIT

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

I’m recruiting artists — poets, photographers, painters, programmers, essayists, cave scribblers, demolitionists, brewers, bachelors, single cell biologists, graphic designers, ladies and lizards — for a new project. SUBMIT

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

Send anything. Send anything. Send anything. SUBMIT

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH

This is a transmission of love and warming and nourishing. Full-color pamphlets, subversive seeds, planted in the dirt of culture, fertilized by a community’s money-ash. Maximize attention through biological imperative — love, love love!

WANE — WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH — WANE

Ask if you have questions, but send me your art: joe.gerace@gmail.com
Submissions for Printing One close on June 27.

Twenty-five copies will be mailed to anyone published in WANE.

Please share this and help me get the word out. Thank you.

Too Late to Love You

Wikipedia Poem, No. 747

w747-sm-s

“They split the darkness / With their bare chests / They smell out their loves / Through the thick dew!” Okot p’Bitek

the grinding stone will be or had been
not much depends upon chrysoprase
i sense upon and then i am aware

there’s no time left
kennedy and oswald too
who are kennedy is oswald dead

who are you yourself considered
one inhabits a song or has tried
not much depends upon tense

if one inhabits a good song
a strong expensive song cooked
by a corporation or a factory (have been its gear)

i am no time
leap of perspective
the fish you fear and had tried to be

not much depends upon becoming or having tried
not much depends
invent the reader

before greedy cologne
taste tongue shell
i sense upon passion

i sense upon assassin
i fucked hamburgers
and i swear it sustenance came naturally

the thing glimmers
i swear it said my co-workers
were like a priceless song

when a poet can only push so far against the factory
of theory i eat my own said my co-workers
assassin the readers before cologne

a confused theory of hungry love
smell taste tongue i sense upon an onion they
sense upon far away grinding stone destroyer of newstype

i sense upon an assistant at the factory eating the falls
i sense upon the grinding stone and the gutter
the world no doubt

hands breadth its own
painful shelley
and you?

did you once see shelley plain
and did you pick up on the rest
move and never moor

with a name of its own and memory too
i started at my quaking feathers
and pick upon memory

so many blank miles
without a name of their own
did you once sense upon the new laughter?

Je Etsy Un Autre

Wikipedia Poem, No. 742

projec2-sm

“You don’t need a story. The question is How long do you not need a story?” David Shields

trip  to         me           enormous plain 
country      and      fresh hewn    political mistakes  
the expat freshly hung perceives literacy  
the expert mistakes the recluse          for submission  
interlocking memories          poppies' capital        the recluse  
submits        to christmas lights  not man 
emergency radio transmission  the christmas lights       
return to simple flame he lands back in seclusion 
he beats the expert with a freshly hewn political     mistake        
the recluse  who survives his owner's engine      
vapor days   like lightning through the enormous plain's country

not many political witnesses
perceived  literacy deranged  
owner of engine  failure  
all in a day's  enormous plain            good country
mistakes      among poppy red        capital  
christmas lights    back on man-ends       
of flames of beats an emergency radio transmission  
the gun-toting       argument       broadcasts its perception        
recluse        deception         shame among poppies  
submission poppies  an     expert freshly hanged 
from perceived literacy ambition           and  witness perception           
like christmas  lights           on a boring white wall not much  
poppies beat  against the flag pole like political mistakes                 
his first trip   to the river's 

Fairmount School of Polyrhythms

Wikipedia Poem, No. 738

collapse-v2-sm

         the reflecto neveryone and 
the 
fairmount 
      school of polyrhythms i always meant to take 
    it boils in the 
biplane dopple overheadaches toward an old 
      white school of the always approaches 
     toward teterboro 
the 
reflecto 
neveryone and blinks 
all 
overhead 
reflecto 
       never that meant 
         fail 
   fail 
fail fail fail 
fail 
      fail fail fail 
      fail 
      fail fail fail 
fail fail fail fail 
       fail fail 
fail fail fail 
fail fail fail fail 
        fail 
   fail fail fail fail fail fail 
       fail fail fail fail 
fail fail fail 
fail fail 
fail fail fail fail fail 
fail 
        fail fail 
       fail fail 
    fail fail 
fail

List of Ancient Greek Tribes (Vincenzo Peruggia)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 728

greektribes-71

“The agents of the statue came finally to stare out the window of the room at the statue, as they dreamed and died. // There was an eaten who was oranged by a child to a ceiling a please and a lobster that said basket when a house was in a man.” Russell Edson

achaebi
aean curethinyans
aebi yans aoi
aeges aoi
aegiaebi epes
aegyes
aemones
aoi curethinyans
aoi eordeans
aoi epes
aoi minyans
aoi phikrans
aoi yans
aones
bottian
cadmeans
cretes epeioi
cretes krans
curetapithikes tes
dryopeioi
dryopelchaeans
eordeans
epeioi
kranaoi
kranes
kylianaones
kylians
kyliantes
kylikes
kylikrans
kylistinoans
lasgians
lasgiantes
mikes
mikranes
minesaeans
minyan
phikes
phikes tes
phikran
philians leges
phinyans tes
tapithikes
tapithikes
tapithioi
tes telchaebi

“Women Begin New Reign of Terror”

Wikipedia Poem, No. 724

w724-sm

“He said I was fooling I am not a tree and he dropped his leaves.” Russell Edson

     annie besant
you 
motherfuckers 
      should see my notebooks re- 
surrealismo 
      a word near athens
   
admit your 
feelings high 
above 
     new 
       york
       women 
             begin new 
reign of terror olly 
found this   among theosophy bathing in paint thinner

   invite the unknown he was crying 
and so 
i cried
and 
    i cried
        and so i cried
she's getting thinner   watch it

Raising Blood Pressure and Increasing the Risk of Heart Problems and Stroke

Wikipedia Poem, No. 711

proc2

“I enjoy sitting on objections by the great. / Yes, so we cried together under protection of copyright laws.” Nikki Wallschlaeger

be cool you’re a curator not an interesting person you’re a curator not a bulbous side of cool you’re a curator not an alyssa milano tweet is a false premise upon which to build a you’re a curator not a bit of dead animal tied on a stick you’re a curator not a mentholated trucker given enough time will always grow this fountain? painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted in the lap of the gods hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair a bit of dead animal tied on a stick painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted in the lap of the gods hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair a bit of dead animal tied on a stick painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted in the lap of the gods hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair a bit of dead animal tied on a stick painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted in the lap of the gods hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair a bit of dead animal tied on a stick painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted hair painted ha 

Recursive Diagram Confession (FN Model 1910)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 709

rec2

i 
drink nothing-gas 
operation 
form 
   the breech)
      the other room gold
    scream and sweet firearms operate for 
      a headache
fired gas 
operation) 
      
that killed 
the potted sky)
      nothing departs logical 
at 
the sky from the other 
  room 
gold 
cream and 
sweet firearms opening 
      principle of 
      blowback 
systems 
scream and sweet music
sweeps sand 
      sweet 
       fired 
  gas 
operation 
        at the 
        potted plant 
        in the 
archduke
this 
denied 
    because 
in 
    most action form 
        the 
belgian gun
  aims final
explodes 
     final 
  i 
drink 
because i'm 
the purest form of desperation) 
    form 
   this denied 
because i'm sad nothing 
   principle 
of blowback 
weeps 
      final
in action form

Augustin Pajou with Fragile, White Stalk on Prime Time

Wikipedia Poem, No. 560

Augustin Pajou, alt. version (detail)

“I’ll just call this what it is / My vanity gone wild with my crisis” Josh Tillman

apala your head on fox 1997
prevarititians somewhat sorry conocybe
apala your head on the orderlies (eric payne r
and when pam’s (tichina arnold center
crazy twin cousin tammy comes to visit
she doesn’t realize she doesn’t realize
she escaped from a man acts against white dunce
cap too long in the orderlies (eric payne r
and white dunce cap too long in the orderlies (eric payne r
and white dunce cap too long in the lake
tammy comes to visit she doesn’t realize she escaped from a man
acts against white dunce cap too long in the lake
tammy comes to take tammy away

comes to visit she doesn’t realize she doesn’t
realize she doesn’t realize she doesn’t realize
she doesn’t realize she doesn’t realize she
doesn’t realize she doesn’t realize she escaped from
a mental hospital but when pam’s (tichina arnold center
crazy twin cousin tammy come to visit she doesn’t escape

from a mental hospital but when pam’s (tichina arnold center
crazy twin cousin tammy comes to visit she doesn’t realize

she doesn’t realize she
doesn’t realize she doesn’t
she doesn’t she really doesn’t

Context 0310-112016

Context 03102016

Context 1517
your wirelesss mouse can’t save your soul

Context 1623
no one laughed at my chun li joke. 😦

Context 1938
Any of you nerds play The Division?

Context 2031
“Your laugh leaves laugh lines, your love leaves bright bruises” tHS


 

Context 03112016

Context 1144
When you’re selling, life was good

Context 1147
Context 1147

Context 1152
Close yr eyes and walk ; how do you see sounds? As exploding spheres? What bird is that drowned by the lawn mothers? The edgers a central American chortling peace? Close yr eyes and breathe.

Context 1158
Context 1158

Context 1203
Submission to the irrational

Context 1211
Context 1211

Context 1217
“There was indeed a little donkey” Houellebecq

Context 1218
As I type “Context” and look up at the world, there is a strange effect: something like the combination of skin sizzling from electrocution and the pleasant recoiling one feels when he finds a hundred dollar bill.

Context 1222
Context 1222

Context