Number 8, January 1999 IN THIS ISSUE... Mourner in Kohl by Jane Carr Purple by Justin Elga Smokewagon by Alex Vermeychuk Eating Flounderly by Megan Gilman Dissection by Justin Goldberg

SMOKEWAGON You look like the right one the same way a revolver looks like a covered wagon, which is to say, not at all, except that one thought seems to blossom in a collision with the other. Outlaws cradled their guns and dreams of ambush close together, spinning a chamber ribbed with ammunition, murmuring to their smokewagons. It was, of course, a love that fueled their lives. And you, always so wary of attack, have forced a union likewise riddled with odd juxtaposition, one that burns alone and recklessly automatic. There can be no understanding except of its simply existing: impenetrable, zeugmatic. -Alex Vermeychuk