Just as the title of suggests, jeremiad is a dreary, dismal, sad complaint, a doleful lament. Except that right at the bottom of that last page it says this: “If anyone knows of Todd Raboy’s whereabouts out there in the zine universe, please see that he gets a copy of this, or send me his new address or something.” It’s like they lost Todd Raboy, which is funny, because his three poems stand out as the only place in this zine where there’s any hope at all, not because the kind of life Todd writes about is so different from the kind of life the other writers write about (it’s not different at all), but because Todd’s writing leaves the reader feeling breathless and amazed, not cowering and frightened.
lit zine / no known publisher / main creator: jen verschraegen (editor) / free (send a stamp) / 17 Borden Street, Toronto, ON M5S 2E5