What is the FATE of today’s words?

“To be swallowed in my bodiless belly; to be sped along my painless nerves; to be spread out in my unbody over every surface of the earth.” Thus boast the self-congratulating gods of cyberspace. “To be effortlessly transmitted from mind to mind; to be preserved in digital formaldehyde,” they continue, “safe from the decay of papers, the corrosive handling of the hands, the fickle memory of the tongue.”

Then words are to be skimmed, scanned, toggled and googled through; funneled in great babbling rivers down the crystal waterfall of the screen, barely glanced by the skipping stones of the eyes? Words are to be universally available and universally ignored, invisible in plain sight? Words are to be freed of those old, messy intermediaries – pens, lips, tongues, papers, bottles of ink, typewriters, leading strips, cafe tables, friendships, serenades, anonymous notes of seduction slipped furtively under doors, solitary rooms, windows and daylight, leaking streetlights, flashlights under sheets, napkins in dim restaurants, ballpoint and palms, salt and blotting papers, public recitations, obsessive repetitions under the breath, copying by hand over and over until recorded on the heart?

All this to be swept away, leaving words free and spotless, immortal?

Our ears are going deaf from the humming of white noise polluting our human potential, while disposable machinery forbids our hands from becoming weathered and cracked under the caress of labor. We plea through our textual bodies to dig through the rotting graves of history and dig up the dusted intimacy of HUMAN INTERACTION, ARCHAIC MACHINERY, FRUITS OF TRUE LABOR. We denounce static screens flashing intangible lovers, friends, family – as we shudder in our own loneliness and shame at being still physical.


We celebrate the physical; we celebrate this earthly world that offers us sweat, paper, and eyes for soaking them in. This newspaper is resistance against the drone of instant gratification that a contemporary technology has given us. We revel in an old-world pace where poets convene, read each other’s words aloud and take the time to give meaning.

We revel in learning and teaching each other the manifold ways and means of making words. We do not separate our inward spirits of creation from the room and the city where our bodies convene every few weeks, from the outward techniques and practices of EX-RESS-ion that press our words out into the physical world.

We say the body is all that speaks! We say long live its speaking! We say this paper is the incarnation of our creative spirit! We send it out into our city with curiosity and verve. TAKE READ.


The Publishers




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