Tupperware Sandpiper
Really, I want to quote the whole thing, it’s so brilliant. It’s a magazine about bowling. Stories, poems, anecdotes and advice about bowling. In “The Benefits of Bowling” someone named Selage Moustaumph tells us: “did you know that in america they teach bowling in school?” Under the heading “Bowling for Birth Control” Selage explains why bowlers don’t get each other pregnant: “No one will talk to you. Ever.” Jeff Luscombe comes out of the closet and admits that he is a bowler. There’s even a couple of sexy bowling poems in here like Emily Pohl-Weary’s: “i eat your french-fries/with loads of red ketchup/and watch rolling hard balls everywhere./like your head/the lanes are neon./my shoes are black + white/i hate bowling/but smile anyway/at your pals;/her hair is dark blonde/like my underarms/the difference being/you have known me/longer.” Why is that sexy? I have no idea. Or how about joy hewitt-mann’s: “those big black balls/…cradled in your hands./rubbed for luck,/held up near your eyes – a quick/kiss,/maybe…” That’s definitely sexy, except then it goes on: “Or/I could talk/About/Those shoes/Lined up in their little cubbies &/- o jesus -/the sweat, the toe-jam,/the minuscule microbes/that crawl inside the smells-“. (KS)