Fall 2012 Issue of Goblin Fruit is Live!

Oct 22, 2012 08:45

With my poem FOXFOXFOX in it. It's dedicated to alankria. FOX
                                                                                                                    FOX        
                                                                                                                       FOXFOX      
          F                  F                                                                         FOXFOXFOXFOX 
          FOX       FOX                                                             FOXFOXFOXFOX
              FOXFOX   FOXFOXFOXFOXFOXFOXFOXFOXFOX
                  FOX         FOXFOXFOXFOX
                    F              FO                   FO               
                                     X                    X

And also this beast on the cover and other marvels. Go read eat !

OK, my lovely textual foxfoxfox is coming out all scrunched, but here it is on capscreen:




Now do you believe me? Do you? FOXFOXFOX LIVES!!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Originally posted by tithenai at Fall 2012 Issue of Goblin Fruit is Live!
Oyez, oyez! As of Friday evening, the new issue of Goblin Fruit is up, with astonishing artwork by Elisabeth Heller, and fantastic poems by Mike Allen (time_shark, Sonya Taaffe (sovay), Rose Lemberg (rose_lemberg), Kelly Rose Pflug-Back, Ruth Jenkins, Alex Dally MacFarlane (alankria), Brock Marie Moore, C. W. Johnson, Jennifer Crow (kythiaranos), Virginia Mohlere (snowy_owlet), and Rachel Dacus.

Step forward.




As early as last year we were guided in our editorial choices for this issue by a certain tendency towards apocalypse -- the last issue of a year which has groan-inducingly been touted as the last since, well, whenever the last time was that people longed to be at the End of History in ways more literal than metaphorical. The first poem we took for this issue with that in mind was Mike Allen's "The Vigil," and so we're particularly delighted to find that this poem sparked Elisabeth's imagination such that she oriented her artwork along its lines, setting the issue's overall tone with a glance.

But this is not an issue of violent explosions so much as aftermaths; it is not an issue of bangs so much as whispers, crouchings, look-over-your-shoulder-ings.

We hope it enjoys you you enjoy it.

As a futher delight, csecooney has set her eye and hand to making up a poem out of lines from this issue's pieces. A taste:

I do not feel beautiful
I tasted mysteries at an early age, drank secrets
while father watched like a
moon, from the upstairs window
the Devil likes his blue-eyed boys
I brought him down
In the wreckage of his secrets

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