Not For Profit/For Prophecy



Interview with an Excommunicated Well Goddess by Caroline Stockford

Interview with excommunicated well-goddess and psychic poetess Abyssinia La Terre, otherwise known as the the doyenne of Dakhar. Interview by Archie Pelago.

AP: What would you say to the readers of ‘Two moons talking’?

Abyssinia: Cutter subordinate. You see, moments announce themselves with a kiss to the head, saying: (MISSING) But that is such rough news to good hooligans.

AP: What actually happened following the disappearance of (MISSING)?

Continue reading “Interview with an Excommunicated Well Goddess by Caroline Stockford”

Welcome to the Fold by Mónica Belevan


Noon was first a shadowless lull in the byscape; a sudden, sunlit evenness now and then heightened by the silence of the cricketry, the dulling of the earliest birds. The woodland as a whole came to a halt at once, without a screech, as if it were of one mind in an incomputable amount of bodies the business of which was to multicull and culliply each other across time and worlds into complete transfiguration. It was rare, given this atmosphere, for even leaves to have to hold their breath, especially if –at least on land— this was an age of predators Continue reading “Welcome to the Fold by Mónica Belevan”

Retch Romantic by Jan Von Stille

……………1. Prologue
She was twenty, she was impressionable;
I betrayed her, she was angry, and
I left her; I was impressionable,
I regretted it; she was twenty, and

I am not a spiteful man and
I am not a poet.

That is, the–I dare not yet say my–
I say, the odalisque rises, stretches,
retches PBR and bilious memory,
all of it, down to dry dregs, and
flushes it onto this page.
Watch it run, quick on quick,
unto shit.
Continue reading “Retch Romantic by Jan Von Stille”


Look-horror: eye line of mouth. Squeeze back. Flesh ripple. Extrude.


Now: google a crime scene photo. Axe to head. Shotgun face. Bathtub meat. Blank. Google a suicide note. I LOVE YOU. Look-horror: reach towards ?


Cry semen.

Continue reading “MYSELF THE PHOTOGRAPH by m. forajter”

The sun, who stole my secret to raise me by Amara Amaryah


Sweetest day of my life is stolen by the sun who saw me and chose to rise two hours late. Everybody stops to look not at me. I am dull gold as if I did not already                  my own skin. Do you know how long it takes to grow courage to steal from the one you might love? 4 generations. My mother might leave me where she found me and the shame might be archived as a hymn. At least now I am the only one who is not blinded; I am too Continue reading “The sun, who stole my secret to raise me by Amara Amaryah”

EVA by Edwin Evans-Thirlwell

Screen Shot 2019-09-29 at 11.47.49 AM

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Essaouira Diary by Finn Lafcadio O’Hanlon

In Anton Newcombe’s studio in Berlin, there was a typewriter. On this typewriter was a faded, dusty note that read, Everyone should be shipwrecked once in their life.

These words had an unsettling effect on me. Whether I understood it at the time or not, my ship was already on the rocks.
Continue reading “Essaouira Diary by Finn Lafcadio O’Hanlon”

Intinction by Amy Barnes

“Father, there are no palm branches.”

“How did you let that happen? Never mind, bring me the ashes.”

The deacon dutifully brought the marble jar before scurrying away to hide behind the altar’s red velvet throne. Father Orson pulled off the heavy lid to survey the contents before tucking the jar under his arm like a slaughter hog.
Continue reading “Intinction by Amy Barnes”

Ten Simple Instructions for Complex Acts by William Cordeiro

after the FLUXUS Performance Workbook

1. All performers conduct a different hygiene routine: floss, clip toenails, wash hands, put on deodorant, shave, pluck eyebrows, etc. They may trade routines in a fugue-like pattern if they wish. Their tempo should correspond to the movements of a symphony.

Continue reading “Ten Simple Instructions for Complex Acts by William Cordeiro”

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