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Dear subscribers, contributors, and friends,
As usual, at the end of the even-numbered months of the year, I write you with news of the new.
DIAGRAM 17.2 is out. Find it here.
Before we get to the new issue, because we get a couple sheepish emails a day or two after the Chapbook Contest deadline (which was technically Friday) asking if it’s too late to submit, we’ve decided to allow you—because you’re a reader & friend of the magazine—to submit through 5/1, should you have the desire. Details at the link below. At midnight AZ time on 5/1 we will close submissions with no exceptions.
But: to this. We have a new issue n stuff:
It’s got TEXT & IMAGE by Gina Alexandra, Law Alsobrook, Karen Babine, Carl Boon, Holly Brown, Margaret Cipriano, Hayli Cox, Johnny Damm, Adam Day, Marya Hornbacher, Heikki Huotari, Nabil Kashyap, Heather Kirn Lanier, Ted Lardner, Michael Jeffrey Lee, Dennis Mombauer, Laura C J Owen, Eric Pankey, Kathleen Peirce, Simon Perchik, Derek Pollard, Isabelle Shepherd, Ryan Patrick Smith, Christine Spillson, Elizabeth Townsend, Michael Joseph Walsh, and Paige Webb.
REVIEWS: Alizabeth Worley on Danielle Cadena Deulen, Joe Sacksteder on Henry Hoke, and Rebecca Doverspike on Keegan Lester
& SCHEMATICS: Balanced Single-Phase Full-Wave Rectifier, Buckminster Fuller’s Schematic of the Relationships Possible Within a System of Seven Vectors, Illustrating the Non-Additive Mathematics Which Makes Synergy Possible, Device for the Prevention of Birds with Transparent Barriers, Dr. Aitken’s Dust-Counter, How Much Space an Insulted Lady Needs to Leave the Room, Male and Female Reality Model, and Uniform with Optionally Concealed/Deployed Visual Panels for Display about a 360 Degree Periphery.
So let’s begin with two excerpt from the new issue, a poem from Kathleen Peirce’s 5 Poems in the issue: –>
*
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MAKE A MAN
In my hand, with my eyes, I find
my great grandfather on the side edge
of a hardwood chair, up on a hip
with his legs crossed, with his hat
pushed back, with his forehead torn by a fleck like a shot
had rung, but he smiles.
My own face as a child comes to mind
like light displaced on lake water by an oar
in my father’s hand. And
I had read the sentence here we have a stone earlobe
absorbing the prayers of an ancient Egyptian
the day the couple came to fix the clock,
a grandfather, taller than. They moved, at work,
like fewer than two animals, more than one flower, his gentle
removal of the face, her hand holding the door away,
their one voice low, asking for tools across which
tools were passed, with the heartbeat stopped, her white gloves on,
his shoulder back inside, his hand so lightly
hitting the notes out of sequence wildly, with my son still
not speaking, not come home for years. Absorb, lobe of stone,
because we are first sensual, and then must be rich.
*
Killer.
Last reminder: Monday is the last day for the 2017 chapbook contest. Guidelines here. D
Things we’re reading: Lindsey Drager’s The Lost Daughter Collective, Mary Gaitskill’s Somebody With a Little Hammer, Kristen Radtke’s Imagine Wanting Only This, Dan Beachy-Quick’s A Whaler’s Dictionary, Laura Raicovich’s At the Lightning Field, The Magnetic Fields’ 50 Song Memoir, Quim Monzó’s A Thousand Morons, Stephanie Reents’ The Kissing List, and Aaron Smith’s Primer.
Looking forward to what’s next, as always. Send us yours.
Thanks.
Ander Monson, Editor