Since last time, I had a great coffee date with my contemporary and collaborator and friend, the duck poet and Professor Emeritus of All Literature at Lacwallis College, Irvin Perkins. That backwoods genius has taken quite a career turn; she told me she’s teaching infants how to draw. I didn’t even know that was a job. I guess there’s a lot going on I don’t know about. I guess I’m a sick self centered fuck. . . changing diapers and writing poetry isn’t what it used to be. 

In honor of that, and my friend Irvin who I have such affection for, this issue of LALM was made for the kids, with the kids in mind, in hopes that the kids might read this and realize something grand – who knows what. But, after putting the damn thing together, I’ve had my own realization: this issue really isn’t appropriate for anyone, let alone the innocent. It’s absolutely filthy, filled with things like depression and skunk buggies, therapists and their dick size, an intimate relationship with a postcard, hot girls in Montreal, and the safety of a river, all wrapped around the naughty question: do fish make for good pets?

Read it anyway! Here we go!

– Ed.