My brother is here. We are fishing, eating nachos, betting on horses, drinking Newcastle.
Yep, I’m in the new Dogzplot, with a little prayer/prosey/FF thing.
Review: The summer 2008 Dogzplot has arrived like a splinter bamboo forest, reaching up into your minds, splitting sidewalks of verve, wrapping around your denying of the deed, growing chug-wards, clinging to your age of the automobile and your little catalog of madness. It reads like a lightning bolt straight down your damn chimney.
Ravi Mangla brings it hard, with “Popemobile.”
Check this sentence: “His teeth are coruscating in the late afternoon sun.” I had to go look up coruscating. It means to sparkle and glitter.
Ravi blogs here:
I once saw Ravi at a Nacho convention in Austin, TX but Ravi didn’t see me so don’t ask Ravi what I was wearing.
Also in this issue is a poem by j.r. pearson titled “OLEV EPMO”
This poem was workshopped in Time, but it glows.
Pretty much all of this issue I admired. The one exception being the Lovelace piece. The Lovelace piece reads like lint on a roadway leading to a beige room. It is derivative dreck. It frecks me. I read it, fell asleep, tried to read it again, developed a detached retina, fell asleep again, then finally unplugged my computer and hurled it through the coruscating glass of my oven door.