Download this Free Zine about Appropriated Birds

Caskets is a 16-page zine about appropriation, hotdogs, death, America, war, gargantuan planes and microscopic birds. Please download, share, and distribute illegally in libraries, museums, squat houses and corporate gyms. Thank you, as always, for reading. More at wikipoem.org.

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

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“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

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“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

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         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