Eleven “poets who were not afraid to let a little weirdness into their work, a little bit of the imagination”, as guest editor Paul Nelson puts it. Plus readings and interviews in audio. When I was asked by Rattapallax editor Flavia Rocha to curate a selection of West Coast poets, there were several facets of this project that I considered a given. First, I wanted to limit the poets to the Northwest,... 

Rattapallax has the unique opportunity to meet with myriad internationally-renown poets and a staff that is deeply focused on promoting and publishing new work. Meet the staff and contributors to this, or first issue of Rattapallax Online. Ram Devineni is the editor and publisher of Rattapallax and a film-maker who has had films shown at the Cairo International Film Festival, San Jose Film Festival,... 

12- This is a badly decorated crisis It is time to migrate to the next condo All poetry lines are created equal So deliver your speech without background music I finished my dream Then with a skateboarder’s single mindedness I went to the market Some porn is taken for granted Hopefully you can see This poems is struggling hard To be on someone’s top ten list You always said: capitalism made me... 

by Mary Paynter Sherwin 1. who are we carrying on the small little stamping legs day of twelve education of architecture mother lets out the hem cuts all of hairs every month Saturday animal film woven table leg he is eating with eighteen cousins on low planes over the oceans head reef bound locks the door 2. I just thought of how I lied. We will start closer to the end so we can finish... 

by Emily Kendal Frey When we die the perfect magnet of our bodies will arc Time will extend over the mountain’s lip Purple flowers Our parents and me and you Our developing minds still burning but fainter *** There are birds flying over the ocean You know you’re beautiful Shuddering birds Locked in formation Hold your breath An hourglass of light pouring down Cold clouds Do you know... 

by Erin Malone the day was divided: tulips erupting In their sockets the lights popped and crows raised in the yard and dark clouds. I was doubling again. My knife on the wood a wife, snap-snapping an onion against the cutting board, a cry like memory that won’t walk Between our house and the neighbor’s rests. Chewing pencils, they pace like             Make their circle A crow had... 

by Mary Paynter Sherwin recovering from a long illness, the breath still comes in a hiss. it’s a kneeslapper. the latest in a great long while. the hurricane makes it this far. ash your cigarette into the swamp, gentlemen dance around trees, because there is no football this Saturday. the water came too fast. our neighbors wear feathers in their hair on sunnier days, before they lose children at... 

by Erin Malone My head is a guest, a Gulliver parting the dirt, eyes at the earthworms then up. Firs around my shoulders. When I walk I carry the scene. Cubed, the sky is itself but groomed to change more slowly. Exhale of clouds: I balance the books & straighten & still. The thud in my ears is a big bass drum. I shout to hear myself think. I stuck my head in a house. Something turned over. View... 

by Mary Paynter Sherwin Again, down the mountainside. In a different car from the last time, but escaping nonetheless. This is one of attempts. This could be the first. Oncoming headlights blinding, glaring. Lane lines squinted. Do not brake. A known road, with single direction. Down. There are road signs. It is about to rain.                   If you rolled down the windows, you could...