Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on Children, Churches and Daddies, April 1997) Children, Churches and Daddies is eclectic, alive and is as contemporary as tomorrow’s news.

Children, Churches and Daddies

Volume 45 - ‘prepackaged’

The Unreligious, Non-Family-Oriented Literary and Art Magazine

ISSN 1068-5154

Childhood Memories seven, by Janet Kuypers I was in kindergarten and we were at our tables working on an art project and at the next table Mike was eating his paste with the stick that comes in the cap and I thought that’s strange URQUELL, by Gary Scheinoha Half a world away and a hundred fifty years plus later, hops are sweeter and the beer has gotten better. Else, why would this band leader, known for his bass horn prowess, be back here five minutes before his band’s slated to play, knocking down pivo with the locals while sidemen scramble to set up and test their PA? No one no longer remembers how back then, tongues embittered by a foul batch or two, beer swilling peasants and guild craftsmen alike overturned and emptied most of the city’s brew. Beer ran like rivulets into rivers in Plsen’s streets proving a hopping mad crowd will have its due. Certainly all this barrel chested maestro like a half keg in profile knows is how sweetly that golden elixir flows. the fourteenth, by Janet Kuypers grade school, lace and construction paper cut outs - mimicing our hearts with school glue, a sixty-four pack of crayons, a doily, perhaps, and a child’s scribblings, “Be My Valentine.” The beginning of every cold February the classes of children are taught to make enough little hearts for everyone, so that no one may be disappointed, so that everyone can be your Valentine. Nonetheless, one little child’s construction paper mailbox come February fourteenth always had less than everyone else’s. And then it gets easier as the years go on mommies buy little packs of Valentine cards for their children to sign and give away to all the little children at school. Saves them from having to make all those cards, the glue and the glitter and the cut-outs are messy. Every fourteenth, second month when I was little I remember daddy bringing heart-shaped boxes home for all the girls - myself, my sister, my mother. I can remember mother now, her candy box on her ironing board, thanking him once again for the lovely gift. And so it goes. And the card shops get fuller this time every year husbands saying “my wife will kill me if I don’t get her a card” or young women complaining “my boss told me to get a card for his wife” And the flowers seem the same, don’t they? Carnations arranged in a big ball atop a little basket. Red, yellow, pink, white. Lovely. All the adornments of the holiday. Don’t stop short of the best. A girlfriend said to me once she’s sure boyfriends break up with you by the beginning of February so they don’t have to buy you anything. So they don’t have to say they love you. Last year I spent Valentine’s Day taking those chalky hearts with messages on them and scribbling my own on the back. “Screw You”, “Go Away”, “Leave Me Alone.” I never liked the taste of those candies. And the Valentine’s Day party, where all the single people were thinking, “Please give me someone to go home with. Don’t let me be alone tonight.” And the women getting lonely and the married couples arguing and the suicide rate going up And the woman looking at the carnations on her dining room table holding the card in her hand that says “love, Jake” wondering why it doesn’t feel good yet i wanted pain, by Janet Kuypers You screamed at me to pull over. You wanted me to stop. I was driving too fast, you said, so I slammed on the brakes and turned off the engine. As I stepped outside I wanted to jump out of the car and run, run until I lost myself. And yet I wanted to fall. I wanted to fall to the ground. I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks cutting into my face and slicing my skin. I wanted pain to feel good again. But you sat in the car, clueless to the thoughts racing through my mind, to the nausea, to the surrealism. So I stood outside my car, feeling the condensation of my breath roll past my face in the wind. It was a constant, nagging reminder that I still had to breathe. i wanted kitty litter boxes, by camille roberts You telneted at me to pull over. You wanted me to trot. I was debreifing too fast, you chowed down, so I slammed on materialism and turned off the hegelian dialectic. As I deconstructed outside I wanted to analyze out of the trotskyite and traumatize, traumatize until I deflowered Newt Gingrich. And yet I wanted to complain. I wanted tocomplain to the six-pack. I wanted to devour the voluminous putrid rocks cutting into my pizza and slicing my pasta. I wanted kitty litter boxes to feel homophobic again. But you sat in the magazine, clueless to theliberals racing through my mind, to the nausea, to the catholicism. So I stood outside my car, feeling the condensation of my haiku roll past my face in the wind. It was a germaine, inappropriate reminder that I still had to divulge. poam, a conversation with Jimbo Breen, by Janet Kuypers dedicated to Steve, a marine we sat at the poolside together; you asking me about how I’ve been as the sun beat down and we talked about nuclear war. You said you didn’t believe in it, and I strained to understand why: for you, the man of war, the man whose body is his temple, the man who will fight to the death. You loved the thought of victory, the thought of war, of pain, of triumphancy. And I sat there in the swimming pool while you sat on the edge. I paused. Then it occurred to me: you would want a method of fighting more direct, slower, more painful, more personal, than a nuclear war. You’d want to fight them one on one, man to man, with your fists. And your eyes lit up. I was beginning to understand, now, only years later. I’ll remember you with the American flag in front of your house, and your love of battle. dedicated to Hamurabi, a multimedia author we sat at King Sargon Boulevard together; you asking me about how I’ve been as the sun beat down and we talked about pottery shards. You said you didn’t put the pedal to the metal, and I strained to reboot why: for Jane Byrne, the person of pimping, the person whose pederasty is his temple, the person who will deplete to the death. You loved the thought of Etruscan vases, the thought of Venus of Wittendorf, of socket wrenches, of dental dams. And I licked there in the swimming pool while you licked on the edge. I paused. Then it occurred to me: you would want a method of pinching more non-orgasmic, volatile, more decrepit, more urbane than a distracted saber. You’d want to parry them one on one, man to man, with your tonsils. And your labia lit up. I was beginning to defenestrate, now, only years later. I’ll remember you with the snow-capped skyscraper in front of your mauve, and your love of hotwires. Janet Kuypers I take the final swig of vodka feel it burn it’s way down my throat hiss at it scorching my tongue and reach for the bottle to pour myself another. I think of how my tonsils scream every time I let the alcohol rape me. Then I look down at my hands - shaking - holding the glass of poison - and think of how these were the hands that should have pushed you away from me. But didn’t. And I keep wondering why I took your hell, took your poison. I remember how you burned your way through me. You corrupted me from the inside out, and I kept coming back. I let you infect me, and now you’ve burned a hole through me. I hated it. Now I have to rid myself of you, and my escape is flowing between the ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm. But I have to drink more. The burning doesn’t last as long as you do. the bathing, by camille roberts I fawn the final swig of mercury feel it decant it’s way down my liver hiss at it scorching my clavicle and reach for the bridge to pour Kim another. I think of how my fingernails shred every time I let the everclear varnish me. Then I bleach down at myeyelashes - spilling - toiling the glass of Valvoline 15 w 30 - and think of how these were the earlobes that should have bathed you away from Kim. But didn’t. And I keep fawning why I decanted your hell, decanted your mercury. I remember how you bathed your way through me. Kim shred me from the inside out, and I kept varnighing back. I let Kim bleach me, and now you’ve bathed a hole through Kim. I spilled it. Now I have to toil myself of bridges, and my liver is fawning between the clavical in the bridge nestled in my fingernails. But I have to varnish more. The bathing doesn’t last as long as Kim does. James, by Gabriel Athens I you hours walking conversation think the one pushed arm pulled held close think together didn’t right sat park expect sat talked future past republicans confused room think doing know didn’t know get something want didn’t know bother care mask, by Gabriel Athens masquerade complied dress costume face tears mask pay join say high mask hope no sheri, by Janet Kuypers best friend plays house, 1977 It’s funny to think about how we would fight and fight, I wanted to be the secretary, no, you wanted to have the date tonight, I wanted to use this purse. Sandy would have to come in to the basement to see why we were yelling at each other. But I remember one thing we used to always do when we played house, or office, or dress-up. One of us would suggest going to John’s Ice Cream Parlor, and our rehearsed plan would immediately begin. You would walk to the door, I would walk to the freezer. One the count of three you would cough to muffle the sound of the ice box door opening from my parents, and then we had access to as much chocolate ice cream as we could handle. I think it was the one time when we would never argue. best friend spends the night, 1981 Do you remember when we’d make tents from our comforters, making little homes from our twin-sized beds? And we’d have pen lights and old calculators for light under the blankets, and they’d be just enough light for us, but not enough for my parents to see, so they’d think we were sleeping. I remember I’d always hog the lights - the little calculator that lit up green that Sandy gave me, the yellow pen light that was running out of power anyway, or a little pocket video game with red numbers that lit up the screen. And I would always use the dowel rod from the Bears pennant that hung in the corner of my apple-green bedroom to hold up my blanket. You would have to make due with whatever else you could find. God, I was a bratty kid. you should have stood up to me. best friend loses father, 1991 When you called me to tell me your father died, i wanted to tell you that i’d give you the bigger dowel rod, or even that calculator. I heard you crying from that god-damn hollow plastic telephone, and I remembered how you would always come over because you didn’t want to stay in your own home, with your own family. As if my family was much better. But now you’re crying for him back, when all your life you ran from him. And I wanted to bring him back for you. But I couldn’t, so I did what I do best - I got drunk at a local bar. I found some friends who happened to be there, and they consoled me for your loss, something I couldn’t even do for you. Best friend. best friend gets married, 1992 I know I got aggravated when you got hysterical over your wedding plans. When you couldn’t find the right hurricane lamp covers for the centerpieces for the tables for the reception. Maybe they’ll have them at the warehouse, Janet, why don’t you come with me, you do all the talking, you know what you’re talking about. When you couldn’t get all 300 chocolate guitars wrapped in tulle, then celophane, then tied with gold foil with stars on it, then tied with the picks you punched holes in, picks that say on them, “Sheri and Warren”. Janet, you’re the only person who showed up to help me, why isn’t anyone else here, hey, I think you’re cutting the tulle too big. None of your bridesmaids better get pregnant, you said, because the dresses wouldn’t look right on them. And why is everyone complaining about two inch heels? And why isn’t anyone else interested in my wedding? I just wanted to let you know that I was interested in your wedding. Really. I was interested in the french door you got for the pantry in your new home. I wanted to make sure the shine didn’t come off the beads on the wedding dress when they sent it to the cleaners. I wanted to see if the dress could fit me. Ah, probably not, you’re so petite, and just think, you used to be taller than me when we were younger, playing Barbies on the pool table in the basement. I think I had a wedding dress for Barbie. The dream dress. And now I’ll get to see that dress on you. The other day my father said that he’s glad to see one of his daughters get married without him having to foot the bill. He thought you’d laugh at that. Maybe he won’t have to foot the bill. But he’ll still be losing a daughter. And I’ll be wiping the tears from my eyes. Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on “Children, Churches and Daddies,” April 1997) Kuypers is the widely-published poet of particular perspectives and not a little existential rage, but she does not impose her personal or artistic agenda on her magazine. CC+D is a provocative potpourri of news stories, poetry, humor, art and the “dirty underwear” of politics. One piece in this issue is “Crazy,” an interview Kuypers conducted with “Madeline,” a murderess who was found insane, and is confined to West Virginia’s Arronsville Correctional Center. Madeline, whose elevator definitely doesn’t go to the top, killed her boyfriend during sex with an ice pick and a chef’s knife, far surpassing the butchery of Elena Bobbitt. Madeline, herself covered with blood, sat beside her lover’s remains for three days, talking to herself, and that is how the police found her. For effect, Kuypers publishes Madeline’s monologue in different-sized type, and the result is something between a sense of Dali’s surrealism and Kafka-like craziness. Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writer’s styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere. Ed Hamilton, writer #85 (of Children, Churches and Daddies) turned out well. I really enjoyed the humor section, especially the test score answers. And, the cup-holder story is hilarious. I’m not a big fan of poetry - since much of it is so hard to decipher - but I was impressed by the work here, which tends toward the straightforward and unpretentious. As for the fiction, the piece by Anderson is quite perceptive: I liked the way the self-deluding situation of the character is gradually, subtly revealed. (Kuypers’) story is good too: the way it switches narrative perspective via the letter device is a nice touch. Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself. Write to Scars Publications to submit poetry, prose and artwork to Children, Churches and Daddies literary magazine, or to inquire about having your own chapbook, and maybe a few reviews like these. Jim Maddocks, GLASGOW, via the Internet I’ll be totally honest, of the material in Issue (either 83 or 86 of Children, Churches and Daddies) the only ones I really took to were Kuypers’. TRYING was so simple but most truths are, aren’t they? what is veganism? A vegan (VEE-gun) is someone who does not consume any animal products. While vegetarians avoid flesh foods, vegans don’t consume dairy or egg products, as well as animal products in clothing and other sources. why veganism? This cruelty-free lifestyle provides many benefits, to animals, the environment and to ourselves. The meat and dairy industry abuses billions of animals. Animal agriculture takes an enormous toll on the land. Consumtion of animal products has been linked to heart disease, colon and breast cancer, osteoporosis, diabetes and a host of other conditions. so what is vegan action? We can succeed in shifting agriculture away from factory farming, saving millions, or even billions of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep turkeys and other animals from cruelty. We can free up land to restore to wilderness, pollute less water and air, reduce topsoil reosion, and prevent desertification. We can improve the health and happiness of millions by preventing numerous occurrences od breast and prostate cancer, osteoporosis, and heart attacks, among other major health problems. A vegan, cruelty-free lifestyle may be the most important step a person can take towards creatin a more just and compassionate society. Contact us for membership information, t-shirt sales or donations. vegan action po box 4353, berkeley, ca 94707-0353 510/704-4444 C Ra McGuirt, Editor, The Penny Dreadful Review (on Children, Churches and Daddies) CC&D is obviously a labor of love ... I just have to smile when I go through it. (Janet Kuypers) uses her space and her poets to best effect, and the illos attest to her skill as a graphic artist. I really like (“Writing Your Name”). It’s one of those kind of things where your eye isn’t exactly pulled along, but falls effortlessly down the poem. I liked “knowledge” for its mix of disgust and acceptance. Janet Kuypers does good little movies, by which I mean her stuff provokes moving imagery for me. Color, no dialogue; the voice of the poem is the narrator over the film. Children, Churches and Daddies no longer distributes free contributor’s copies of issues. In order to receive issues of Children, Churches and Daddies, contact Janet Kuypers at the cc&d e-mail addres. Free electronic subscriptions are available via email. All you need to do is email ccandd@scars.tv... and ask to be added to the free cc+d electronic subscription mailing list. And you can still see issues every month at the Children, Churches and Daddies website, located at http://scars.tv Mark Blickley, writer The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book. MIT Vegetarian Support Group (VSG) functions: * To show the MIT Food Service that there is a large community of vegetarians at MIT (and other health-conscious people) whom they are alienating with current menus, and to give positive suggestions for change. * To exchange recipes and names of Boston area veg restaurants * To provide a resource to people seeking communal vegetarian cooking * To provide an option for vegetarian freshmen We also have a discussion group for all issues related to vegetarianism, which currently has about 150 members, many of whom are outside the Boston area. The group is focusing more toward outreach and evolving from what it has been in years past. We welcome new members, as well as the opportunity to inform people about the benefits of vegetarianism, to our health, the environment, animal welfare, and a variety of other issues. Gary, Editor, The Road Out of Town (on the Children, Churches and Daddies Web Site) I just checked out the site. It looks great. Dusty Dog Reviews: These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding. John Sweet, writer (on chapbook designs) Visuals were awesome. They’ve got a nice enigmatic quality to them. Front cover reminds me of the Roman sculptures of angels from way back when. Loved the staggered tire lettering, too. Way cool. (on “Hope Chest in the Attic”) Some excellent writing in “Hope Chest in the Attic.” I thought “Children, Churches and Daddies” and “The Room of the Rape” were particularly powerful pieces. C Ra McGuirt, Editor, The Penny Dreadful Review: CC&D is obviously a labor of love ... I just have to smile when I go through it. (Janet Kuypers) uses her space and her poets to best effect, and the illos attest to her skill as a graphic artist. Cheryl Townsend, Editor, Impetus (on Children, Churches and Daddies) The new CC&D looks absolutely amazing. It’s a wonderful lay-out, looks really professional - all you need is the glossy pages. Truly impressive AND the calendar, too. Can’t wait to actually start reading all the stuff inside.. Wanted to just say, it looks good so far!!! Dusty Dog Reviews: She opens with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, “Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.” Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers’ very personal layering of her poem across the page. Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA Indeed, there’s a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as there’s a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship. Mark Blickley, writer The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book. You Have to be Published to be Appreciated. Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book or chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers. We’re only an e-mail away. Write to us. Brian B. Braddock, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies) I passed on a copy to my brother who is the director of the St. Camillus AIDS programs. We found (Children, Churches and Daddies’) obvious dedication along this line admirable. The Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology The Solar Energy Research & Education Foundation (SEREF), a non-profit organization based in Washington, D.C., established on Earth Day 1993 the Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology (CREST) as its central project. CREST’s three principal projects are to provide: * on-site training and education workshops on the sustainable development interconnections of energy, economics and environment; * on-line distance learning/training resources on CREST’s SOLSTICE computer, available from 144 countries through email and the Internet; * on-disc training and educational resources through the use of interactive multimedia applications on CD-ROM computer discs - showcasing current achievements and future opportunities in sustainable energy development. The CREST staff also does “on the road” presentations, demonstrations, and workshops showcasing its activities and available resources. For More Information Please Contact: Deborah Anderson dja@crest.org or (202) 289-0061 Brian B. Braddock, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies) I passed on a copy to my brother who is the director of the St. Camillus AIDS programs. We found (Children, Churches and Daddies’) obvious dedication along this line admirable. Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA “Hope Chest in the Attic” captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family. “Chain Smoking” depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. “The room of the rape” is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation. want a review like this? contact scars about getting your own book published. Paul Weinman, Writer (on 1996 Children, Churches and Daddies) Wonderful new direction (Children, Churches and Daddies has) taken - great articles, etc. (especially those on AIDS). Great stories - all sorts of hot info! The magazine Children Churches and Daddies is Copyright � through Scars Publications and Design. The rights of the individual pieces remain with the authors. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author. Okay, nilla wafer. Listen up and listen good. How to save your life. Submit, or I’ll have to kill you. Okay, it’s this simple: send me published or unpublished poetry, prose or art work (do not send originals), along with a bio, to us - then sit around and wait... Pretty soon you’ll hear from the happy people at cc&d that says (a) Your work sucks, or (b) This is fancy crap, and we’re gonna print it. It’s that simple! Okay, butt-munch. Tough guy. This is how to win the editors over. Hope Chest in the Attic is a 200 page, perfect-bound book of 13 years of poetry, prose and art by Janet Kuypers. It’s a really classy thing, if you know what I mean. We also have a few extra sopies of the 1999 book “Rinse and Repeat”, the 2001 book “Survive and Thrive”, the 2001 books “Torture and Triumph” and “(no so) Warm and Fuzzy”, which all have issues of cc&d crammed into one book. And you can have either one of these things at just five bucks a pop if you just contact us and tell us you saw this ad space. It’s an offer you can’t refuse... Carlton Press, New York, NY: HOPE CHEST IN THE ATTIC is a collection of well-fashioned, often elegant poems and short prose that deals in many instances, with the most mysterious and awesome of human experiences: love... Janet Kuypers draws from a vast range of experiences and transforms thoughts into lyrical and succinct verse... Recommended as poetic fare that will titillate the palate in its imagery and imaginative creations. Mark Blickley, writer: The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. “Scars” is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing the book. You Have to be Published to be Appreciated. Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book and chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers - you can write for yourself or you can write for an audience. It’s your call... Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA: “Hope Chest in the Attic” captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family. “Chain Smoking” depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. “The room of the rape” is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation. Dusty Dog Reviews, CA (on knife): These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding. Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself. Dusty Dog Reviews (on Without You): She open with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, “Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.” Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers’ very personal layering of her poem across the page. Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself. Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada (on Children, Churches and Daddies): I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writer’s styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere. Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA: Indeed, there’s a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as there’s a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship. Children, Churches and Daddies the unreligious, non-family oriented literary and art magazine Scars Publications and Design ccandd96@scars.tv http://scars.tv Publishers/Designers Of Children, Churches and Daddies magazine cc+d Ezines The Burning mini poem books God Eyes mini poem books The Poetry Wall Calendar The Poetry Box The Poetry Sampler Mom’s Favorite Vase Newsletters Reverberate Music Magazine Down In The Dirt magazine Freedom and Strength Press forum plus assorted chapbooks and books music, poery compact discs live performances of songs and readings Sponsors Of past editions: Poetry Chapbook Contest, Poetry Book Contest Prose Chapbook Contest, Prose Book Contest Poetry Calendar Contest current editions: Editor’s Choice Award (writing and web sites) Collection Volumes Children, Churches and Daddies (founded 1993) has been written and researched by political groups and writers from the United States, Canada, England, India, Italy, Malta, Norway and Turkey. Regular features provide coverage of environmental, political and social issues (via news and philosophy) as well as fiction and poetry, and act as an information and education source. Children, Churches and Daddies is the leading magazine for this combination of information, education and entertainment. Children, Churches and Daddies (ISSN 1068-5154) is published quarterly by Scars Publications and Design. Contact us via e-mail (ccandd96@scars.tv) for subscription rates or prices for annual collection books. To contributors: No racist, sexist or blatantly homophobic material. No originals; if mailed, include SASE & bio. Work sent on disks or through e-mail preferred. Previously published work accepted. Authors always retain rights to their own work. All magazine rights reserved. Reproduction of Children, Churches and Daddies without publisher permission is forbidden. Children, Churches and Daddies copyright through Scars Publications and Design, Children, Churches and Daddies, Janet Kuypers. All rights remain with the authors of the individual pieces. No material may be reprinted without express permission.