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Dusty Dog Reviews The whole project is hip, anti-academic, the poetry of reluctant grown-ups, picking noses in church. An enjoyable romp! Though also serious.
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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. |
ISSN 1068-5154
featured writers:
Larry Blazek
Lida Broadhurst
John Alan Douglas
Ora Wilbert Eads
Thomas Kretz
Janet Kuypers
Lyn Lifshin
Landa Ann Loschiavo
C Ra McGuirt
Kurt Nimmo
Sara Venkus
without you (1.6.94), by Janet Kuypers
i look out at the evening sky
trees laced with snow
on the delicate branches
glistening in the whiteness
the darkened sky
the powdered streets
the trees aren’t as beautiful anymore
“In a Few Words”, In Brevi, by Linda Ann Loschiavo
How now or never to speak of words, phrases,
That steer us through love’s phases, your voice tilts
Its riches like birds goldening above
In light-kissed blue, those restless aviators
I yearn for, to be carried far away
On, your soft throat close, vibrant, nestling promise.
Like Bone To The Ground, by Lyn Lifshin
Not until he started to feel her
first her wrist then suddenly
under her coat ramming her against the
wall starting to but she couldn’t
scream the knife in his hand
groin up against her
his thigh splitting her knees till
she cracked like bone to the ground
flesh ripped silk in his teeth
then it was over
next day she didn’t show up for work
or any day after
elegy for ellen, by C Ra McGuirt
i didn’t know ellen that well, although we partied together a time or 2. i didn’t know ellen that well-girlfriend of my former wife. i didn’t know ellen. her boyfriend french, her beauty and drinking extreme. i didn’t know ellen. she was jewish. her eyes and hair were marvelous dark. of course, i wanted to fuck, or even kiss her. i never did either. although we laughed together, i never really knew ellen very well.
i never knew ellen; onlv her public persona,
and couldn’t fantasize myself
much beyond touching her cheek.
however, i knew her fond of me-
ellen came with bright balloons
when my gut went out behind bad love.
i never knew ellen, but my ex-wife
kept me up on her whereabouts.
i knew when she quit drinking
and fucking around
and france.
i never knew ellen. i knew
she harbored desperation.
but i didnlt know ellen,
so i couldnlt guess
why nothing much seemed to content her.
yesterday, my ex-wife called and told me:
ellen shot herself.
shit, i said. thatls rare for a woman;
they usually go by pills...
she tried that before, said my ex.
ellen wasn’t playing this time...
i never knew ellen, and i’m too old
to believe that if i had,
ellen might yet be amongst us:
hell, i canlt even fix myself,
and i couldn’t have made ellen happy.
i never knew ellen. i wish she were here
laughing across the table,
in my favorite mexican joint
on this april afternoon.
Doctor Paid But Overruled, by Thomas Kretz
when the unsalted cracker isn’t even crisp
the fake wine doesn’t have a hint of France
woman of phantasies flourishes without you
your teams your dreams your screams crushed
with drink and prayer and think and prayer
with sink and prayer and hope for the best
it’s time to make pressure scatter mercury
with one great effort of holding the breath
exit sharply through unyielding walls of vein.
Proportion, by Ora Wilbert Eads
The concept of endless punishment
In a future dimension
Is a monstrous supposition
Which lacks credibility;
ustice requires judgment
Proportionate to the offense:
Nobody errs eternally;
So it is correct
To disavow cruel presumptions
That misery never ends.
A substantial part
Of organized religion
Affirms vulgar notions
Of torture for dissenters;
But a small enlightened element
Rejects ancient superstitions
Sublime insights
Allied with good conscience
Remold many doctrines
Which are spiritually infantile.
Misinformed preachers scare people
With vivid descriptions
Of encircling flames
Which never are quenched
According to superstitions
Finite origins
Cannot engender results
Infinite in scope;
Destructive fear sustains
A shoddy ecclesiastic structure;
But, as we continue
Removal of the foundation,
The obsolete system
Will tumble in shambles.
WE WHO SUFFER, by Kurt Nimmo
It’s raining.
I have the idea that it’s been raining since the Mesolithic period. That we are tired of the rain, of the jobs and the bullshit, since before the Stone Age.
I drive my car through the rain.
Other people, all around me, drive their cars through the rain and they seem oblivious to it all.
I’m the only one who suffers.
I have an appointment with a psychiatrist. I drive through the rain and through the bullshit to get there. Some of the people, all around me, are probably also driving to their psychiatrists. Maybe some of them are just out for a newspaper or a box of sanitary napkins. We have things to do. We can never spend a whole day doing absolutely nothing whatever.
The receptionist is fat. I tell her that I’m here to see Doctor Blahza. This is my first visit. She tells me to have a seat over there and this she does without actually looking at me. I go over there and have a seat beside a normal enough looking fernthing. The fern-thing is probably intended to make me feel comfortable but actually I’m uncomfortable because this is my first visit to Doctor Blahza and I’m beginning to think I’m paranoid schizophrenic.
The fern-thing is dying.
We’re all dying.
There’s a magazine. I look at the magazine. The magazine tells me that Jesus will come back before the year 2000. I don’t know why Jesus would want to come back. Didn’t we treat him pretty shabbily the first time? The magazine will mail to me a tape describing the return of Jesus Christ. With this tape I will know what to look for. I will be saved. The tape costs $19.95 plus postage and handling.
Nothing can save us now.
Doctor Blahza walks through a white door. I know this is Doctor Blahza though I have never before seen Doctor Blahza. He walks over to me and his mouth opens and my name comes out. Doctor Blahza has mispronounced my last name. I shake Doctor Blahza’s hand. Then I put the magazine down near the fern-thing plant which is dying like we are all dying.
We walk through the white door together. On the other side of the white door is a corridor with more white doors on either side. One of these white doors, I realize, is Doctor Blahza’s private office.
White doors are made to put me at ease. I am ill at ease and my hands are sweaty. This is my condition.
The office of Doctor Blahza is a predictable office and is non-offensive in every way. Doctor Blahza sits behind his non-offensive desk and proceeds to ask me all manner of non-offensive questions.
There is, I’m assured, strict confidentiality.
This is what I tell Doctor Blahza:
1 ) I can’t sleep.
2) They’re out to get me.
3) Wind in the trees makes me uneasy.
4) I’m losing interest in sex and food.
5)1 have an eating disorder.
Doctor Blahza is a helpful man.
Doctor Blahza has a nicely trimmed beard.
Doctor Blahza is approximately ten years younger than me. Doctor Blahza has meticulously trimmed fingernails. Doctor Blahza wears a mauve tie and brown pennyloafers. Doctor Blahza is a homosexual. Doctor Blahza says that I am depressed and that is why I have lost interest in food and sex. Doctor Blahza does not mention the people out there who want to get me. I think it’s strange that Doctor Blahza doesn’t have a fern-thing in his office. Fern-things in offices all over the world are dying. Fernthings need people to touch them so they
can survive. People need people to touch them and Doctor Blahza does not touch me. This is called professionalism.
Outside it is raining.
I can see the rain through Doctor Blahza’s window and the rain falls exactly straight as college-ruled paper turned sideways. The rain is older than the Paleolithic, Mesolithic, and Stone Ages combined. The rain will fall on the shoulders of Jesus when he returns. The rain of rains will wash away our sins.
Doctor Blahza asks me about my father. I tell Doctor Blahza that my father, my roommate, my girlfriend, and my boss are all alcoholics. Doctor Blahza writes this down with a blue pen on a yellow pad of college-ruled paper. Then Doctor Blahza tells me that I am an alcoholic. I am a paranoid depressed alcoholic who finds reassurance in the company of other paranoid depressed alcoholics.
And Jesus turned the water to wine.
Doctor Blahza provides each of his many patients with forty-five minute increments of his valuable time. My forty-five minute increment has come and gone.
Doctor Blahza suggests that I come back and see him again. Doctor Blahza fits me between two ruled lines in his schedule book. Doctor Blahza shakes my hand.
I am left alone to find my way down the corridor of identical white doors. In this way I am much like a trained white rodent which attempts to avoid an electric shock in search of food. I am to pay the receptionist on the way out.
I pay the fat receptionist on the way out. She does not look at me. A computer tells her what to do. We all have alcoholic paranoid depressed anxiety-ridden computers for brains. These computers tell us to do the wrong things.
It’s raining when I go outside. I have the idea that it’s been raining like this for a very long time. That we are tired of the rain, of the jobs, of the bullshit, and the faulty neurochemical computers which sputter and short circuit our lives.
(continued)
I drive my car through the rain.
Other people, some of them around me, drive their cars through the rain and the bullshit and they seem completely oblivio
us to it all.
I’m the only one who suffers.
Sports on the Evening News, by Lida Broadhurst
Figures, numbered like prisoners,
But allowed more colorful dress,
Juggle balls, spread fingers in odd gestures
like psychotic mimes.
Her Story - He Story, by John Alan Douglas
The best possible chronicler of men
over the ages would be women,
for they have suffered men.
The best possible chronicler of women
over the ages would be men,
for they have suffered women.
Then let the scars sing.
Imprints, by Sara Venkus
She was crying when I picked her up from preschool
seems the teacher scolded her
i understood when I saw the little red handprint
dripping down from the pale-yellow cinderblock wall
fingerpainting on paper gets boring after a while
she’s only 4 years old
already she’s figured it out
you have to leave your mark on the world to make people notice
I think I’ll try something in green
Dead Junkies, by Larry Blazek
A truckload
of dead junkies
overdosed on stash
hauled off
with the other trash
stacks of blue
smiling cordwood
cerrobellic cesspool
scorge of the neighborhood
we’d shift responsibility
of we could
outcast from society
dregs of humanity
instead of helping
these truly ill
we shove them off
into eternity
November, by Lyn Lifshin
Somewhere the
edges blur
under leaves
on a whiteness
that could
camouflage what
was torn and
ripped as the
black ribbon,
an omen of
more that
would be.
My sister,
a loaded gun.
Mama, I write
in the leaves
going dust
if you knew,
if we knew,
if we’d known
backbone family act, by Janet Kuypers
I
tried
you
actress
part
you
cared
damn
you
feelings
emotions
daughter
nothing
motions
think
family
flashbacks
kill
forget
told
long
cry
leave
closing
more
part
worry
filled
backbone
family
act
Desirous, by Janet Kuypers
the light from you
the flames leap up
licking my lips
touching my skin
the fire moving
in it’s desirous dance
the smoke intoxicates me
as the remnants
from the desirous inferno
drum a rhythmic beat
and crackle as they burn
the ashes fall
sprinking
tickling my face
sliding down my throat
coating my lungs
making every breath
a desirous pant
I chain myself
my body falls limp
I am intwined
with the desirous world
the desire from you
Lustful, by Paul Weinman
The touch of you
at first distant
in mounds of meat
my lips purse outward
to touch
suck in
as you grow closer
in this lust
of my body
to press against
to fill inward
curves with my
bulgings’ pulse
throb
to enter flesh
with wetting
heat in gasps
grasping of hands
to enwrap legs
tongues and all
that I can
explode
inside you.
room, by Janet Kuypers
stairs
worn
right
days
hall
hall
around
anymore
couch
facing
room
to
myself
today
snap
open
creak
drawn
light
fear
again
anger
kicked
again
sweat
couldn’t
do
bedroom
fists
walls
rage
muscles
eyebrows
lips
sweat
bedroom
stomach
face
arms
hair
apart
again
face
sheets
screams
me
pain
light
bedroom
symbol
ethic
told
society
eyes
mine
Hell
dresser
pictures
me
frame
edges
floor
dresser
down
bedroom
biographies
Larry Blazek, who has yet to be saved from the depths if Indiana, is boasting the publication of a few new chapbooks (as if cc and d wasn’t enough). “Composite Dreams” is available for 6 stamps, and he’s looking for submissions for “Opossum Holler Tarot”, which is available for 4 stamps. Contact cc and d for more information.
John Alan Douglas (whoa, there are so many first names there, that’s so cool) is a first timer here at Children, Churches and Daddies, residing north up there in Vancouver.
And I quote from a letter from Ora Wilbert Eads: “I am a man 79 years old. I’m legally blind in one eye and totally blind in the other. I didn’t submit any material to a lterary periodical until 1990 was well under way. I’ve been quite fortunate. Various literary periodials in Canada and throughout the United States have published 1610 of my poems.”
Janet Kuypers has just lost it, ladies and gentlemen. She’s trying to do too many things at once. A full time job, a magazine, freelance work... oops, she forget to write in her spare time.
Linda Ann Loschiavo is completing her first book of poems, Sudden Exposure. Her nonfiction, colums and essays have appeared internationally in over 500 journals, magazines, newspapers and anthologies in 37 countries. Her poetry will appear soon in poetry New York, Sistersong, and Athena. She’s also finishing a novel, Sex, When She Was.
Kurt Nimmo was bom in Detroit, Michigan, in 1952. He lived in Georgia and ~lorida in the 1970s, and now makes Canton, Michigan his home. In the late 1970s he co-edited the successful literary magazine The Smudge. In the l 980s he edited Planet Detroit. Kurt Nirnrno has been nominated for three Pushcart Prizes for fiction, and two of his books were selected as “Modern Classics” in 1992 by The Wormwood Review. A selection of poetry appeared in the anthology A New Geograp*y Of Poets (The University of Arkansas Press) in 1992. His fiction, poetry, and reviews appear in periodicals in America, Canada, and England. Recent book titles include: All the TreesAre Dead (Zerx Press, 1991), Catholic Girls (Translucent Tendency Press, 1991), Susan Atkins (PNG Books, 1991), Stories From the Single Life (PNG Books, 1991), and Criminal Class (Translucent Tendency Press, 1993). His poetry manuscript, Shock Treatment, won the 1993 SLIPSTREAM poetry competition. Another poetry manuscript, The New DarkAges, will be published by BLEEDING HEART PRESS later this year. His novella, Tioga Pass, was selected in September of 1993 as a SMALL PRESS REVIEW pick ofthe month.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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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, butt-munch. Tough guy. This is how to win the editors over.
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.
You Have to be Published to be Appreciated.
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.
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.
ccandd96@scars.tv
Publishers/Designers Of
Sponsors Of
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!
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...
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.
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...
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.
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.
the unreligious, non-family oriented literary and art magazine
Scars Publications and Design
http://scars.tv
Children, Churches and Daddies magazine
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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
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Children, Churches and Daddies copyright
through
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pieces. No material may be reprinted without express permission.