The Cenacle | 115 | April 2021 | 26th Anniversary Issue *Just Released*

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The Cenacle | 115 | April 2021 | 26th Anniversary Issue *Just Released*

Post by Cenacle » May 2nd, 2021, 6:55 pm

The Cenacle | 115 | April 2021 | 26th Anniversary Issue
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Hello everyone,

Here comes the just-released Cenacle | 115 | April 2021, the 21st anniversary issue! Happy to be releasing this issue just as the pandemic is diminishing. Get your shots! And we hope you will enjoy this issue!

Contents of this new issue include:

From Soulard’s Notebooks:
Millions in the US & around the world have gotten their vaccines. More & more every single day. President Biden is methodically, deliberately, & transparently getting the country open again. Following the science, & common sense.

Feedback on Cenacle 114
AbandonView’s photos haunt me in the most beautiful way; flowers of time that the buzzings of people haven’t quite left behind. (Sam Knot)

From the ElectroLounge Forums: Writers’ Notebooks
A microscope slide of a slice of soul.
Why does thought bubble?
Prose poems are the transgender athletes of literature.
(Nathan D. Horowitz)

Notes from New England: Dream Raps, Volume Ten
by Raymond Soulard, Jr.
Now, admittedly, we’re surrounded by cops, & probably the army, & who-knows-who-others. Been accused of bringing about the end of the world. Well, you could say that. I mean, the world ends every day for someone, for many someones. In different kinds of ways. Well, people die. Well, people move, change jobs, gain & lose lovers, discover their favorite book for the rest of their years. Pain, joy, oh, it’s always ending & beginning! End of the world?

Poetry by Tamara Miles
Every scented flavor drips,
Rose rising, petals dip,
Teacup, sweet, milk to soften,
Glad as dawn.

Notes on Consciousness
by Jimmy Heffernan:
The consciousness of an individual human (or animal) can be likened to a vortex in a river. The river itself is the undivided, flowing awareness-substance making up the greater reality itself, and the whirlpool is a relatively (but not totally) autonomous swirling concentration of conscious experience.

Poetry by Judih Haggai
dear ancestors
it’s all led up to this
thank you for your help

Rivers of the Mind (A Novel) by Timothy Vilgiate
“OK. Listen, I know the Mushrooms come off a little strong, but here’s what happened. I was talking to Mick and I could tell something was off about him. I know you’ve seen it for a while. He’s been getting you the wrong food, every day. It turns out he’s cheating on Cassandra, embezzling money from the bank, and using his position to take revenge on people. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen. He almost killed me. I pushed him out of my mind, and part of him got stuck. It was his ability to fake—he had this whole construct of a decent person in his mind, and because it was so disconnected from who he really is, it got dislodged, and stuck in my body. Now I’m trapped outside.”

Many Musics (Poetry) by Raymond Soulard, Jr.:
“Tall. Thin. Wooden. White Birch?
My hands unclench in my lap,
fall wide open, soft, soft,
will you help me know wherefrom
the many worlds? Will you help me
know myself? Will you be gentle
to my green youth, hard against my fears?”

Saint Paul on the Aguarico (Travel Journal)
by Nathan D. Horowitz
Tree grapes aren’t grapes, but completely different, though they grow in bunches and are spherical. Each has a big pit inside, which is discarded, and the black skin is sour and tough, so it’s discarded too, but between those elements is a thick layer of the smoothest, sweetest pulp imaginable, the flavor between citrus and almond. You have to eat them immediately, because if they’re off the tree for an hour, you can taste the difference, and after two hours, you might as well throw them away. Thus, they have no commercial value.

Poetry by Tom Sheehan
It’ll begin itself by spitting.
There’s a law against that.
It’ll spit anyway, mostly off
Monadnock, hunchbacked
over all, and up the valley
from Route 101 barreling
all that way from Nashua.

What Permaculture Teaches Us About Psychedelics [Prose]
by Leia Friedman
Permaculture can even help us better navigate psychedelics. Just as permaculture takes into account the whole, complex system, the psychedelic experience manifests through multiple, often seemingly unrelated domains. Psychedelics can bring people together to help us recognize our similarities and connectedness—to see ourselves and our surroundings as part of one interrelated system.

Poetry by Martina Newberry:
My friend Patrick called them the 3 o’clock demons. He meant 3 a.m.,
and even if yours come at 2 a.m. or 4:14 a.m., it doesn’t matter, they’re still from hell,
and they’re still irresistible.

Bags End Book #17: The Myth of the 4 Famous Travelers! Part 2
by Algernon Beagle
It began with mah dear friend Princess Chrisakah of Imagianna finding a long coat with many colored in one of her Castle’s Occasional Rooms. Then it traipsed through Bags End, mah already strange homeland, a couple of times to that nice Creature Common place, & even into Dreamland 4or an episode, be4ore coming back to Bags End again, & finally again to Crissy’s Castle & into her Secret Room full of its cushions & purple light.

Poetry by Colin James:
The lenses to your glasses
are as thick as Coke bottles.
Having heard that one before,
you stood staring unresponsively
past my twitching left shoulder.

Thank You for the Opportunity (Fiction)
by Ace Boggess:
The matron stepped forward to greet the new arrivals. She wore all black despite the sunny
noontime atmosphere—shoes, socks, skirt above the knees, blouse pressed tightly to her cartoonish
curves. Allison, read the name above her left breast, letters orange as if sewn in fire. Her hair also was
black, as were her eyes.

The Turkey (Fiction) by Charlie Beyer:
And, indeed, the older man mopping the floor was not the typical specimen of the men around the campus, who were young, bright-eyed, slim, and fashionably dressed. Here she had to edge by a graying fifty-something, partially shaved, wearing a greasy ponytail tied with a fat red rubber band. An extra fifty sagging pounds straining the buttons of his faded checkered Madras shirt.

Poetry by Sam Knot
these words are a mirroring of
the otherwise unreflective
nature of a creature
who has no creator
but the role of the whole
is not the rolling of dice
and so emerges choice
as being never not there -
so this is what it means right?

The Dead (Classic Fiction) by James Joyce
“Ladies and Gentlemen, A new generation is growing up in our midst, a generation actuated by new ideas and new principles. It is serious and enthusiastic for these new ideas and its enthusiasm, even when it is misdirected, is, I believe, in the main sincere. But we are living in a skeptical and, if I may use the phrase, a thought-tormented age: and sometimes I fear that this new generation, educated or hypereducated as it is, will lack those qualities of humanity, of hospitality, of kindly humor which belonged to an older day. Listening tonight to the names of all those great singers of the past it seemed to me, I must confess, that we were living in a less spacious age. Those days might, without exaggeration, be called spacious days: and if they are gone beyond recall, let us hope, at least, that in gatherings such as this we shall still speak of them with pride and affection, still cherish in our hearts the memory of those dead and gone great ones whose fame the world will not willingly let die.”

Labyrinthine [a new fixtion] by Raymond Soulard, Jr.:
Read how, on the Beach of Many Worlds below, Abe the Ancient Sea Turtle heard the story of Francisco the painter, one of Asoya Donna’s beloved & long-lost Brothers, & how he traveled with a friend who posed as a White Birch for him to render on canvas, a very particular one he could not otherwise find, & how Francisco believed that this painting, once completed, would help the Brothers reunite.

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Re: The Cenacle | 115 | April 2021 | 26th Anniversary Issue *Just Released*

Post by judih » May 2nd, 2021, 10:15 pm

Happy Anniversary, Cenacle! Well done Ray. Looking forward to entering those pages

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