Kali’s Day by Bonny Finberg — review by Mark McCawley

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Kali’s Day

by Bonny Finberg


review by Mark McCawley

Kali'sDayKali’s Day
by Bonny Finberg
Unbearable Books/Autonomedia, (January 14, 2014)
ISBN: 978-1-57027-272-1
$15.95 US pbk | $17.69 CDN pbk | £11.99 UK pbk
234 pages, 8.3 x 5.5, Fiction


New Year’s eve he shows up at my door in black Prada, I’m in velvet. We’re dancing with his thigh between my legs. He lifts his shirt, revealing pierced nipples. He kisses me and a tongue stud knocks against my teeth. The rest of the night we’re dancing, kissing and laughing, drinking champagne at the bar. “Hello—” he says, giving me a lap dance, sliding his hand up my leg. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a lipstick. “I bought this today. Can you put it on me?”
“Hmm…Cinnabar.” I slide the lipstick over his mouth—“Impish leather boy,” I say, outlining one leaping cheekbone with the tip of my finger, “Crow morphed into man, creature of bark…You’re attracted to women who wear your dress size.”
That grin again.


(Prologue, Kali’s Day, p.9-10)

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This Wasted Land and its Chymical Illuminations by Marc Vincenz — review by Ron Kolm

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This Wasted Land

and its Chymical Illuminations


by Marc Vincenz (annotated by Tom Bradley)


review by Ron Kolm

This Wasted Land by Marc VincenzThis Wasted Land
and its Chymical Illuminations
by Marc Vincenz,
annotated by Tom Bradley,
Lavender Ink, New Orleans, April 2015
ISBN 978-1-935084-72-3
242 pages: $19.00


Marc Vincenz’s This Wasted Land is a fine addition to that long line of tricky texts that dot the periphery of Western literature. The denizens of this field that I’m familiar with are Swift’s Tale of the Tub and Battle of the Books, Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake, Nabokov’s Pale Fire and my favorite: Flann O’Brien’s The Third Policeman.

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Flying Home by Steve Dalachinsky & Sig Bang Schmidt — Pre-Order

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Flying Home


visual art and poetry


by Steve Dalachinsky & Sig Bang Schmidt





eleased by Paris Lit Up Press just in time for the 100th anniversary of World War I, Flying Home is an extraordinary artistic collaboration featuring 55 original works of art by Sig Bang Schmidt with verses by world-renowned poet, Steve Dalachinsky.

Digitalizing and colorizing authentic World War I archival photographs, Sig Bang Schmidt’s images present surreal vistas of warfare revived with intensely saturated colors that bring the Great War out of the grim grayscale of textbook history. Steve Dalachinsky’s unique, vibrant words, create fragmented narratives of the lives and deaths of the men lost to the dark hole of war.
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Stealing Cherries by Marina Rubin — review by Mark McCawley

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Stealing CherriesStealing Cherries
By Marina Rubin
Manic D Press, October 22, 2013
ISBN 978-1-933149-80-6
$14.95 US pbk | $9.06 US Kindle
96 pages, 5.5 x 8.5, Fiction

review by Mark McCawley

“we waited, in our city of Vinnitsa, pronounced in russian almost like Venice, waited for him every night on the bench in the park to hear his heart-tearing seven-string guitar and every morning in our marilyn bikinis we watched his breaststroke as he crossed the river. i would not dare to love him, he was loved by too many, i was there for my friends, the talk of training bras, mascara stolen from mothers and sisters. walking home one night i heard someone whisper my name. it was Ruslan sitting on top of a tree, stealing cherries. he said he loved me for a long time with all his heart in this entire city of Venice, he loved only me and Luda Vishnevska, whose last name meant black cherry.”

~Marina Rubin, “Confessions of Love”, p.91

In 1989, when most of the stories in Stealing Cherries takes place, Marina Rubin and her family were refuseniks — Soviet-era Jews from Vinnitsa, Ukraine seeking political asylum in the United States from Soviet state-sanctioned anti-Semitism.
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Savage 1986 – 2011 by Nathaniel G. Moore — review by Mark McCawley

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savageSavage 1986-2011
by Nathaniel G. Moore
Anvil Press
ISBN 978-1-927380-55-0
$20 CAN / $20 US
5.5 x 8 | 280 pp


Despite all the investigation, there is still much unrest in the family. May as well try and enjoy the time we still have on earth. Well, I feel so much sometimes I guess I just get a bit clouded, a bit off-colour. You know that colour? A trout in a blender or that big dumb fat sparrow hopping around on its twig leg that a part of you wants to crush, and it’s plump and juicy, and you want it to dance alive in your semi-closed mouth, then set it free.

Our house (161 Glenvale Boulevard) in north Leaside was built in 1960, and our family of four moved in one crisp weekend in March 1981. During the first week, select relatives visited and photographs were taken of Holly and me discovering the “secret” wood-panel door in the basement beside what would be my eventual bedroom (1985-1994) which led to a small pantry, bunker or bomb shelter under the stairs. The tiny passageway connected to the workshop.

Each and every Sunday we all agreed the roast beef was beautiful; its heart-red and pink cross section caused Dad to make sex noises in between throat clears. “Oh Diane, orgasm,” Dad would groan, rubbing his grey or brown sweater, overacting the pleasure of each sloppy bite with his prop tongue.

The story is disconcerting. It deals with time, madness and perception of what a family is or isn’t. It’s a study of desire, of memory, death and rebirth, set in a world coming apart.

(Prologue – You Know You’re Right: December 2012, p.11-12)

Nathaniel G. Moore’s Savage 1986 – 2011 (Anvil Press, 2013) is an ambitious, complex, suburban post-realist novel disguised as memoir that uses elements of autobiography, diary entries, interviews, interview fragments and confessional to chronicle the middle-class implosion of the novel’s protagonist Nate’s nuclear family — bracketed from when he first saw Randy Savage in person at Toronto’s Maple Leaf Gardens in July 1986, until the wrestler’s sudden death in May 2011 — paralleling Nate’s own search for identity and his eventual mental, emotional, and psychic deterioration.
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