Editor’s Note

Issue No.3
The Technicolor Issue
NYC

I would’ve never thought running a magazine would ever be in my field of interest. Before creating this, the thought of running a magazine felt like one of those things people with an unlimited amount of courage and something to say do. Before comprehending that I could create such a thing, I admired the zines hanging in the library of Brooklyn College. The subjects of these zines were limitless, ranging from abortion rights to TEKKEN. No matter the topic, these people’s voices were out there to be heard and shared whether someone picked up their zine or not.

My writing journey has been an interesting one. I write to and for myself, I write to self-soothe, I write to prove to myself that I exist. All my humanness goes on paper primarily for my own consumption (with the exception of a few stageplays). Post No Bills has given me the opportunity to push others to showcase their artistry and voices. I’m sometimes met with the “well I’m not a poet” or the “I don’t know if my work is good enough” statements. Sentiments I know are often far from the truth. And yet these are the very same people I encourage the most to submit, because I’ve always felt the same way.

I’ve kept my work to myself for so long. I often feel it’s not good enough for the world to see yet. The development of Post No Bills is slowly breaking me away from this pattern of thinking. It doesn’t matter when you perceive your work to be good enough for the world. What’s best is that you get it out there sooner rather than later because honestly...we’re all gonna die one day. Death aside, there is no right time to put yourself or your artistry into the world, and there is no point in waiting for the right amount of confidence either. I think you (and myself) are worthy already. So that’s what I’m learning with this third issue of Post No Bills.

Enjoy. xoxoxo

sunday / rex mac

Issue No.3
The Technicolor Issue
NYC

@rexmacofficial

how u
like to occupy the idle? been known
to get wavy till tidal, and pour out them blues,
down the tide go, but after them spins, i clean up good
in the wash, shower so fresh that a half hour pass and i
forget to wash my other half hour pass and i forget to wash
my other have you ever disassociated your way through your
one day off on a Sunday? sweating out last night’s booze all
the way through brunch, about to faceplant into a plate
that ain’t been touched once, me her and her friends, as
i wait for an in, the convo’s running express so now my
input’s amiss, but all that I can forgive because this city looks
lovely on her, in all its fragrances, fabrics, fucked up typefaces, and
color; fast forward to the sun goin down, cause we already beat it
there, and she’s radiant the way spring shines on her when she slumber
on the bed, we’re two heads fulla wild dreams and New hope, more
grounded than i’ve ever been these days yet still float, just high enough
above my blues like a sailboat on a second, third, fourth, no fifth
wind, easy breezy, no typhoon, just typing freely through the
iPhone, inquiring you, how u like ot occupy the idle?

Issue No.3
The Technicolor Issue
NYC

Sam / Anthony

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