Effigy 7 Finished!!!

Explanation for my e-absence: Life, as always, gets in the way. I apologize to all and especially to my subscribers, who will be seeing this issue very shortly, that it took so long for me to finish this issue. But it’s done, and I’m very excited about it!

This issue is especially exciting because it’s the first that features guest poets! I asked Richard Wehrenberg Jr, Anthony Marvullo, Rosy Phinick, Ryan J, and Ben Block to be a part of it, and they all responded in kind with wonderful poems. I also included some of my own poetry in the collection, as it wouldn’t be an issue of Effigy without it, would it?

As usual, send me 3 or 4 dollars at:
1743 N Mozart APT 2
Chicago, IL 60647
And I’ll send you an issue. You can also find them at Quimby’s Bookstore here in Chicago or through any of the poets themselves.

Samples of Richard, Ryan, and Rosy’s poetry was posted on here as the last three items I posted during poetry month. Scroll down to see those. Here’s a poem apiece by Ben and Anthony.

Cemetery Bike Paths
Ben Block

fall in elm grove wisconsin means biking to school in fog and that my kitchen floor is always way too cold to walk on in barefeet. biking to school ends up being me vs. the groundskeeper at the mt zion cemetery on the north side of north avenue. it sits right before that bridge that i always wonder if any trains actually go on as i pedal super fast down one row of hedgestones and he rides his dump truck thing down the other one. i beat him to the end. i dont think he thought we were racing anyways.

i always wonder if its disrespectful of me to bike through that cemetery with nothing on my mind except that girl i like or that test i might have just failed or how many times do i have to bike down this wooded path before the ground just swallows me up whole, and leaves nothing but a rustling of the leaves and a semi legible headstone with a semi inspirational quote and a dying bouquet of flowers.

A. Marvullo

If the math of the Universe is such that
25 brief minutes with you must be followed by
18 hours stranded in the airports of the Midwest,

then I accept,

and if I have to repeat the process
over and over again to
uphold this theorem’s integrity,

until Infinity erodes me to dust
and the only way to travel
is for someone to sneeze me off the mantel,

then I accept–
are you listening?
I’m cool with this.

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