THE WILD IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE

featuring letters by:

Frank Sherlock, Brandon Holmquest, Nadia Berenstein, Benjamin Lansky, Nestor Perlongher (translated by Steve Dolph), Christopher P. Miller, Lyssa Tall Anolik, Sara Manheimer, Priscilla Paton, Bela Shayevich, Ish Klein, Samuel Lang Budin, Eileen Moeller, Evelyn Sharenov, Catherine Gaffney, Carolyn M. Martin, Megan Milks, CA Conrad, and Chris Pearson

and art by:

Pete Deevakul, Guillermo Srodek-Hart, Eric Trosko, Andrea Stanislav, Tami Demaree, Mike Calway-Fagen, and Misako Inaoka

Copies are 8 dollars (plus shipping). Send check or money order to:

The Wild (c/o Laura Jaramillo)
35-20 35th street apt D2
L.I.C., N.Y. 11106

e-mail laura.jmillo@gmail.com for information on shipping prices, etc.

 

3 Poems, by Ryan Eckes

dog

my sister’s dog got hit by a car, she said, i need you
to come over and get rid of it before she gets home.
the dog was small. we wrapped it up in a trash bag
and took it to the dump. i had to heave it over the
fence, which was higher than i’d remembered. the
dog hit the top of it and fell back on the pavement.
the plastic snapped in the wind. i picked it up. fuck,
she said, standing back by the car, do you need help.
with each lob i turned away with a fuck, the brown
thud coming back to me. the car was running, traffic
racing past. i loosened my collar, squatting at the
fence, then looked over my shoulder. come on, she
said, hurry up it’s cold!

 

From Peruvian Myths, Legends, and Stories, edited by José María Arguedes and Francisco Izquierdo Ríos, translated by Brandon Holmquest

Introduction
These three pieces are taken from a volume of folklore, most of which was collected in the field by anthropology students, called Peruvian Myths, Legends, and Stories, originally published in 1947. The book’s editors, José María Arguedes and Francisco Izquierdo Ríos, were both important literary figures in Peru, whose work involved both the study of folklore as well as indigenous issues.

 

Tomato Heart, by Megan Milks

It was a cool day for July, a healthy breeze keeping the heat at bay, and I had immersed myself in a matrix of tomato vines, breathing in the vine-ripe aroma and enjoying the yellow-to-red rainbow of garden fruit, when I saw a man several yards away. Silhouetted by the sun, he looked like an emaciated Giacometti, until I took a few steps forward; with the sun no longer swallowing him, he was just tall, nothing special. I watched him reach up, yank off a tomato, and chomp into it with authority, the juice squirting out upon impact and leaking down his chin with a vengeance.

He shifted and saw me. He offered me a bite.

 

An Interlude on Poetics as Dirt, by CAConrad and Brenda Iijima

CONRAD:

OKAY BRENDA! My friend! DIRT! The real thing MEETS poetry, the other real thing! We\’re both Capricorns so it feels right to be discussing DIRT with POETRY, Capricorn being the last island before the zodiac is engulfed by total air and water. Whenever I\’ve had boyfriends who are also Earth signs the union to dirt is a merry and serious occasion. One summer I asked my boyfriend Robin to locate with me five different varieties of dirt to explore and eat. Our enthusiastic search (land)ed some exquisite side effects. We were in southwestern New York State at a pagan festival, and our friend the Reverend Velveteen Sly from the Church of the Subgenius officiated our DIRT UNION. To be honest, it turned out to actually be that holy, this search-and-eat dirt expedition. The plots of dirt were chosen carefully for texture and color as we were trying to find the perfect combination corresponding to the four cardinal elements and the fifth, unseen element.