Exterminating Angel Press

Creative Solutions for Practical Idealists.

poem

Wimme Saari, a Finn.

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by Diana Morley. sings indigenous music in no hurry— he begins with silence then opens the door where small cold birds sing along, woke by sound carrying over lakes and land iced over for months a random cracked twig as the bass clarinet feels its way as companion to voice all echoes over land so […]

Summer 1980.

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by Sean Murphy. Who am I to speak of the dead or even dare to presume it’s my place to do so? Because I was there, aware —even at ten—this was something nobody would ever forget. An era when news was on the news, and word of mouth, always the best way to convey everything […]

Condemned to Relive.

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by Benjamin White. The nation is built on false narratives Orchestrated by the unquestioned facts Operating on the poor reflections Manipulated by historical Understandings of the benevolence Created by the projected image Hollowing out the scene of honesty Fabricating the nostalgic comfort Of time and place that never existed – Remembered in the longing for […]

Power Gratifies Itself.

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by Benjamin White. It appears History is irrelevant When memory stretches All the way back To a few minutes ago, Forgetting and overlooking The cause and effect Of important events And situations As reactions And responses Operate in a void Where power Gratifies itself

My Last Word.

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by Lana Hechtman Ayers. This red room is coming to an end. See how the overhead bulb flickers? You insist on baking bread but I have no time for crumbs. Allow me to sink into violet chimes as my shadow grows deeper. Some will gossip about sonnets, others about Sonny Rollins on sax. All curiosity […]

All at Sea.

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by Cliff Beck. Sailing eastwards under a clear sky towards yet another day that once seemed so far away we follow the stars we have always known to steer by. I stand motionless at the prow between the bow wave which, like the treasure trove of memories saved from my journey to now, grows ever […]

On the Cusp of 77.

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by David Bolton. Take a gander at what came and what’s to come In the meantime, seek the amber of the setting sun After a day at the screen. my strained eyes hunger for beauty Along the way to no destination, I say hello to strangers, commenting on the perfect weather, the absence of crushing […]

Dead Moose In The Road.

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by John Grey. Cars in both directions stop. All drivers share the same helplessness. A deep ditch stands guard on both sides. There’s no getting around the corpse.   There are not enough of us to move the thing. A few lean over the unfortunate beast. Some turn their heads out of respect One suggests […]

Waterfront, Memorial Day ’88.

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by Stephen Mead. “Good Morning Vietnam” the theatre marquee read. I could see it between these porch beams & our neighbors roofs. It takes awhile to sink in, twenty years or more back then, to bring the war home, let the unmentionable surface for what it was, was not & will forever more be: both. […]