"Lévi-Strauss Wrapped In Plastic” by Randy Antonia Lott, in INDUSTRIAL LUNCH NO. 1 (available for download here)

There are only 11 days left to submit your poetry and visual art to the special COLLABORATION(IST) EDITION of INDUSTRIAL LUNCH! More details can be found here and on Facebook. 
[It’s time to hop to the blues.]

"Lévi-Strauss Wrapped In Plastic” by Randy Antonia Lott, in INDUSTRIAL LUNCH NO. 1 (available for download here)

There are only 11 days left to submit your poetry and visual art to the special COLLABORATION(IST) EDITION of INDUSTRIAL LUNCH! More details can be found here and on Facebook

[It’s time to hop to the blues.]

/!\ CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS /!\
INDUSTRIAL LUNCH SECOND ISSUE: SPECIAL COLLABORATION(IST) EDITION
The second issue of Industrial Lunch, a magazine that has been called “like Go Away or something,” will revolve around what we choose sloppily to call COLLABORATION. We say sloppily because we mean the term in the same way Arthur Rimbaud meant what he said in his poetry: literally and in every sense. That is, we want poems and visual art predicated on “collaboration” whose definitions encompass everything from the mutual diving-into of glorious junk by multiple persons, to the solitary solicitude one feels and enacts for a ghost one has conjured via Yeatsian séance. Collaboration, then, may be among friends or with one’s bookshelf. One might collaborate with one’s local communist party or with one’s latest marathon viewing of both seasons of Party Down. Cut apart your local children’s newspaper. It’s wide open, and up to you how you define “collaboration” (provided that you do, in your submission, talk about how you define it––see below for more details). Maybe what we want is to collaborate with you on the question of this definition of collaboration: at last, some kind words between us! Above all we want what we have always wanted: writing and art selfish enough to call itself poetry. We don’t really “have” an aesthetic, but we know what we like, and it tends not to look like what people who say “we know what we like” would usually like. We like a lot of stuff.
SUBMISSIONS GUIDELINES: Please send all submissions to industriallunchmag@gmail.com. For writing, please send 1-3 poems in a Word document (.doc or .docx preferably) or a PDF (if you are doing something that relies heavily on a visual “field” for the poem, PDF is recommended).
For visual art, please send your work to us in TIFF or JPEG format (no PDFs), at least 150 dpi. In the body of your email please indicate your medium––painting, mixed media, illustration, photography, etc and a title if applicable.
For this issue, in addition to your submissions, your email should include a brief note telling us about your “collaboration.” As we’ve said, this should be taken in as many ways as possible in addition to literally: you do NOT need to have reveled with others in the siftings of glorious junk to submit your work to us. In any event, your submission should include a message which indicates to us in some way what constitutes the “collaborative” element of the work you have sent us.
Submissions will be open until June 15. We can also be found on Facebook. Thanks!

/!\ CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS /!\

INDUSTRIAL LUNCH SECOND ISSUE: SPECIAL COLLABORATION(IST) EDITION

The second issue of Industrial Lunch, a magazine that has been called “like Go Away or something,” will revolve around what we choose sloppily to call COLLABORATION. We say sloppily because we mean the term in the same way Arthur Rimbaud meant what he said in his poetry: literally and in every sense. That is, we want poems and visual art predicated on “collaboration” whose definitions encompass everything from the mutual diving-into of glorious junk by multiple persons, to the solitary solicitude one feels and enacts for a ghost one has conjured via Yeatsian séance. Collaboration, then, may be among friends or with one’s bookshelf. One might collaborate with one’s local communist party or with one’s latest marathon viewing of both seasons of Party Down. Cut apart your local children’s newspaper. It’s wide open, and up to you how you define “collaboration” (provided that you do, in your submission, talk about how you define it––see below for more details). Maybe what we want is to collaborate with you on the question of this definition of collaboration: at last, some kind words between us! Above all we want what we have always wanted: writing and art selfish enough to call itself poetry. We don’t really “have” an aesthetic, but we know what we like, and it tends not to look like what people who say “we know what we like” would usually like. We like a lot of stuff.

SUBMISSIONS GUIDELINES: Please send all submissions to industriallunchmag@gmail.com. For writing, please send 1-3 poems in a Word document (.doc or .docx preferably) or a PDF (if you are doing something that relies heavily on a visual “field” for the poem, PDF is recommended).

For visual art, please send your work to us in TIFF or JPEG format (no PDFs), at least 150 dpi. In the body of your email please indicate your medium––painting, mixed media, illustration, photography, etc and a title if applicable.

For this issue, in addition to your submissions, your email should include a brief note telling us about your “collaboration.” As we’ve said, this should be taken in as many ways as possible in addition to literally: you do NOT need to have reveled with others in the siftings of glorious junk to submit your work to us. In any event, your submission should include a message which indicates to us in some way what constitutes the “collaborative” element of the work you have sent us.

Submissions will be open until June 15. We can also be found on Facebook. Thanks!

Divine Blues Envoi

We believe that POETRY should be
made with the best ingredients.
It should be made with intention
and care. We believe that great
POETRY should be made locally,
and local ingredients should
be used whenever possible. We
employ traditional methods and
brew POETRIES heavily influenced by
classic European styles. We are
not afraid to experiment and
to use new ingredients, flavors,
hop varieties (e.g. “to the
blues”) etc. We know that
POETRY is not consumed in a bubble,
but its purpose is, and has been, a
social one. Simply, we love what
we do because nothing brings
people together like POETRY.