i am a pair of moccasins pitter pattering

through the quiet forest. the forest is quiet

and it is green, and the stream runs quick

and silver and freezing it is on my face

bathing in the woods. my skin wet and

dark and in closing my eyes there is a

woman, whose horns slide out and curl

above her small ears: they are bone coils

and they are antlers but not of the deer

nor the moose nor the antelope, but of

the demon. i am sure they are of some

burning body. some set of lungs that breathe

and hiss like striking a match in the midwestern

winters, when the sun leaves for months.

and steel takes its position. the sun is the

center of the universe and it is orange and

combusting suspended, and I leave for months

in the midwestern winter. i remember a night.

i was younger. my skin still stretched tight.

i was sleeping in yellow knife. in the sleeping

bag, i was a caterpillar. a truck drove up and

idled in front of me for a minute or so, and

pulled away,

and everything changed. i felt everything change.

________________________________________

Colin de Chardin McKay currently lives in Minneapolis, sometimes Chicago, where he writes full time, or whatever.

He Had Energy

We lost a dear friend this past weekend. Obituaries and remembrances frequently laud the deceased for their kindness and warmth. Erick From French was no different. We have been fortunate to know many good, unselfish people in our lifetime. But EFF had a special zest for life, and we are not just saying that: he had a vision problem that kept him from driving a car, but he was always everywhere, doing everything. Always learning, always taking risks and pushing life to its limits. Frankly, we thought he would die cliff diving, or something along those lines. But not like this. We’ve always struggled to believe people are inherently good — we believe Faulkner was being politically correct when he “declined to accept the end of man” in Sweden. Yet whenever we feel down about humanity, we think about EFF. We’ve done it for years. His positive nature was infectious and reassuring. As the articles contained herein illustrate, we are sad, but EFF’s memory keeps us happy. And, In Case You Missed It, we have an interview with Operation Ivy, whose artwork decorated his body. Friend, we miss you. – Andrew Geer

(more…)