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the paper wasp gathers fibers from the dead and constructs nests from the commensurate pulp and saliva. late at night, you can hear them at work. theirs is the labor of commune with an other side.
pulpmouth investigates the thin partitions between the living and the dead, following the gut punch of intuition that leads beyond the arras and into disembodied rooms. the place where psychogeography meets static electricity, the magnetism that happens when we sense the pulse of a body standing behind us. the underside of the document, the O, the gaps and absences and redactions that speak forth, or an ink stain tracing wallpaper. we’re seeking poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, hybrid, and critical work that understands language as an umbilical cord or tether between the human and animal (and everything else); work that hollows objects and inhabits them; that spoofs, impersonates, and pretends. in short: the allure of the abyss. updates/transmissions from the psychic plane.
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