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	<title>Interrobang Magazine</title>
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	<description>Read the latest in art, literature, and music in Interrobang!? Magazine, Providence&#039;s Web and Print Zine for the Arts. Get physical with our print issues or read selections from our archive.</description>
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		<title>Volume 6 Coming Soon!</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/2012/volume-6-coming-soon/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/2012/volume-6-coming-soon/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 22 Mar 2012 15:49:35 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Contributor News]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=1319</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We read poetry aloud, considered artistic merits of photographs, and vied for our favorites.  In the end, we discovered that we accepted more than we ever have before.  With 30+ pieces of artwork, poetry, and prose (a lot of prose!), this is going to be the biggest issue we&#8217;ve published yet!  Here&#8217;s the next round [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Romans</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/fiction/the-romans-timothy-schirme/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/fiction/the-romans-timothy-schirme/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 03:46:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=935</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Timothy Schirmer &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;Fifteen years ago my sister married an Italian boy, equal parts smug and charming, unreasonably handsome.  To see this young man was to see beauty clogged in someone who didn’t deserve it.  This boy worked a pear orchard in Northernmost Africa.  His and my sister’s paths had crossed while swaging across Europe.  [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Experiment, The Physics Roof</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/experiment-the-physics-roof-sarah-crosslan/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/experiment-the-physics-roof-sarah-crosslan/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 03:36:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=925</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Sarah Crossland for T.G. In this version of the story the boy does not learn to fly: a rapid cut of arms through air—sarcoline stained glass wings, the breath in his rib cage caged as any wild animal. It is not my place to say whether his eyes were closed or open, whether what [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Interview: Alberto Arcangeli &amp; Massimo Ottoni</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/interviews/interview-alberto-arcangeli-massimo-ottoni/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/interviews/interview-alberto-arcangeli-massimo-ottoni/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 03:35:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Featured]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Interviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=929</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Though a native Italian, Alberto Arcangeli (top) creates music that bears a palpable Britpop influence, heavy on acoustic guitar, sprightly piano, gauzy vocals, and a sprinkling of Syd Barrett psychedelia. It&#8217;s also catchy as hell. For &#8220;Wheels and Love,&#8221; Arcangeli teams with Urbino artist Massimo Ottoni (below), whose delicate paint-on-glass technique perfectly captures the numinous [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Dissociation</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/dissociation-sarah-crosslan/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/dissociation-sarah-crosslan/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 03:23:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=926</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Sarah Crossland &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;After the Da Milano Purse Ad &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;I. An archipelago &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;of women, grey-scaled &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;their faces: &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;black blush, teeth &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;a niveous white. Around the couch, their knees &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;gather as twigs bent ready to kindle &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;a pearlish stalk of fire. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;They remember little &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;of their childhoods: &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;piano lessons, &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;cleaning a mother’s &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;pastry brush. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;Dormer windows [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Medicine Cabinet</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/fiction/medicine-cabinet-paul-hetzler/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/fiction/medicine-cabinet-paul-hetzler/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:53:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=922</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Paul Hetzler 1. Always Follow Directions &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;It’s the second time this week that a client has been attacked because they strayed out of bounds to get a better picture—seems like there’s one on every trip who thinks they’re too good for the rules and I say they get what they deserve. Sweat stings my [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Windowless Room, Silverless Fish</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/fiction/windowless-room-silverless-fish-matt-runkle/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/fiction/windowless-room-silverless-fish-matt-runkle/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:44:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=918</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Matt Runkle &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;1. The House &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;As a comedian, I’m well aware of the sacrifice I make. Even the most genius of jokes is doomed to not hold up. Watch: &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;There’s this glass house, and yes, it’s Christian, but it’s done, supposedly, in a loving way. Who cares, right? I mean, I’ve never been much [...]]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>The Flying Man of Treblinka</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/the-flying-man-of-treblinka-matthew-williams/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/the-flying-man-of-treblinka-matthew-williams/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:36:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Featured]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=914</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Matthew Williams In a grainy photo: a blot, a figure hovering above clumsy shtetl roofs. The only evidence of the flying man’s existence: this photo &#38; a collection of stories. In the camp, a young doctor, fascinated by the flying man, unwittingly removes his iron shackles. The story ends— the flying man of Treblinka [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>A Turn of Phrase</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/a-turn-of-phrase-mark-jay-brewin-jr/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/a-turn-of-phrase-mark-jay-brewin-jr/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:33:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=912</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Mark Jay Brewin, Jr. &#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;&#160;— for Kevin Boyle Tell us some Irish phrases, one French girl says to the bartender hitting on her French friend, and being the womanizer and bartender he is, he replies, I don’t know if it’s Irish, but we use it none the less…—now a wink at the friend, as [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Salt marsh, dusk</title>
		<link>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/salt-marsh-dusk-katie-anagostou/</link>
		<comments>http://www.interrobangzine.com/poetry/salt-marsh-dusk-katie-anagostou/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:29:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[2011]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Volume 5]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.interrobangzine.com/?p=909</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Katie Anagostou Blades of sawgrass bend beneath the golden weight of the setting sun, thick as honey, until their pointed edges meet with the river and cut V’s into the black, rolling surface. Salty, ancient mud weighs at the edges, pulling down, deep into the wealth of ongoing life and progress, so small as [...]]]></description>
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