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YARMULKE

one of the kitchen travellers, his mouth was probably too hard, of course as a drunk, words felt too big in his mouth scissored vital his pits to remain below the horizon nearby a chicadee on this side raised one finger the uncontrollable saluted tedders-- He began to cast longing glances at the couch suddenly his orange squashing fingers sank, a short floor already gone all night he yanked the damn thing's fang, he got the jack, then nailed it to the cabinet, driven into his bib most of all his good cat was out walking like a dog Raff Lapgear I gcaatto IG 1 swaibsieo IG 5 Qualm. A perturbed Sandwich. vvi'ibpoerra Tlaloc-Tlaloc. Codes of Rain. Atmosphere rejection.A Stone the pleasure of my ponderous carp. urethra. fever tree Devout as Castor. Or yes - solo & drift oil an enema. I find beneath a rhythm of infection. canopy of days I rain mocking fabric/chameleon - wi1debeasts devout of eloquent sad1y.My Glands flower & jade flood I cum a smudge, through cedar. tearache, Remotion?-quiver: flail where sopping snot wOrn the serpent waits, codes of Rain this random Jericho. breathe Bleat. horseflesh bolted upright tomb. OOn salt. Quiver. Moor­ Hide particulars. Meat scrap bone. Rain Psychoderm evaporated. Wipe. wat

Jake Berry her Jake Berry

Michael Basinski

edges ominous or tnbemuttiYal -,that ~ • -l Y~sl. ~~sr wea t~owequa lsrh~mvtu al1ym~lo with g@)US hands at shift Rea Nikonova John Byrum

twohribrellwliinndo hfaurltlo spiamppalneattoans THE WORD "ABUNDANCE" lakeside quasi (anything imaginative plings wursted renditions of wavy (fragrant light is sure tiempo He takes the secret home with him and burns it on the stove. I manifest corrosive blond spots glyph and make a mental note not to divulge again (he is beloved). Culture genus wood light ornery or kind mid-length corrosive excerpts trims its core beliefs to fit (a culture). Rice makes skin in the neck of spring we walk (these metal feeling chairs appear young. Why I liked her was in part the lack of hair along (economy slow as dished collapse we woodwind extra her arms. Things occur while walking in the woods. To be a (do we crazy list some coriander, raucous feat light savagery feminist you have to like adventure. Secular means painted any at once middled all drear we comb (her power to color other than the canon. Fields of marigolds trespass on each magnificat for once city we are thinking. Hard time remains with tasks to be milagro claim checks awfully blue in performed. Pronunciation unclasps its tight blouse to define the (purchase-ordered, weak span of attention word "abundance." HhAi il becomes the rationale for carpet shields as thinking lumens ruminative character spreadsheets. what I like about her is a physical response. Blue offline hipshoot grocery listed at the cavement of a little plum sky in the sense of realism as opposed to an ideal. Some of 'me for naught is now (I calculate the rubric of your usage is not ruined. She started a career at 66 once she'd awakened to the situation that accorded her ideals the status of hors wand and sly and treble clefing planetary d'oeuvres. The step machine brought out a need to plagiarize. lamplight with a list of wind or random motion wellness Each of the rooms formed in the shape of an accomplishment-to-be. He very nearly brought in a replacement to unseat her previously undisputed majesty. Earth held lovingly each worm. Each coatrack filled with memories of Escanaba. Cold lake for walking infancy out of its studio in preparation for becoming art. The cum laude histogram unless this paneling seemed abrupt. She never toasted anyone. Declared this creosote cap/sizes fortune hunt penchant no time to begin imbibing. Necessary causes stretched our request lines open (shaft the daylights thinking between sizes. We woo who we will be again. One of her out of porchlight worlds had oxygen amid the tufts of wealth and she was roomy in chittlings razor beam regressive masthead her thinking. Fans of emptiness rubbed treebark for best luck. deetails formulaic (quicksand what happened was New Mexico in all its borders shielded her from pageantry which would distract. who might request particular old furnishings hold (liquor songs by Sara Vaughn and hope to hear mellifluous new ways to buy nnoicghhet snaps shut several highways (nits quake time. Pastures have to seem remote before we'll buy them. sandwich context elevator music Different time zones fortify until we get there. Bright hand needs unique thrust signals distracted from the fact of a policeman masterminding to expand crushed standing (more of the ovation darkness. In the hope of harnessing the status quo toward twists headlines top notch behaving as it had been taught in daylight. Peace signals sound kurtosis mostly m2li2 adagio unlike airspace beneath l'Arc de Triomphe. what surefoot rounded fire the lanky were we saying? Pistols are like broken glass swishing around a wisp so pertinant as to become graphic fabric bag. The State of Michigan is cleared for landing. Let repetitions plummeting us pause, she said, for silver handouts. Then again for each accuser to be numbed. While looking at the issue of frostbite, she came upon a hand that had been hers. Communion is an angle. Remember the professor moist behind the ears. Parades have him in check. Self image feels gunshy again. That's why I'm handling the past myself. There isn't much to organize about. RETURN Just sway and how we recently receive it. Letters that might drip how sentences admit what they are being. Any minute. All the change not even cozy and a life of family living to be dealt Scent of relief relinquishes the duties of perfume. Her drinking and shaped and staged. seems Neanderthal. Margins during which I'm spared allow a carving out of home from center rock. Sedona's twist of chiseled A recital, blasphemy astride repeat blooms of the flowers sunlight. How do I dream lovemake with enemy. Return breaks off simplicity from self. Arrangements purple or the skin of elephants as mountain under clouded sky. We till soil as Sheila E. Murphy exercise and something grows. Threads pour tide somewhere we are accustomed to be sitting. Life raft of woven fronds appears on A WOlDitn lu!cJ"in•• moving water. Numb to motion or accepting. Each layer of what • bu~band who happened .

'll)'S un Uneasiness, muscle of deities, land hungry usual the r.ilr~ lnd... gbollopwe r~,I,

Sheila E. Murphy Larry Tomoyasu her c today baa thirtem tc CATCH a ..-eUun.dentood M she bracketed the relentless monotonous repetitiousness notatioaa hmmm th THE look at ordinairine.. E she invented the capitalization of swimming haploids the apider'. ravellinp T she called the bell boy in nineteen-eighteen compound the air It o she snickered heinously within the venereal stealthy bridegrooms all i. taut n she canvassed and harassed the rugby tournament 1 1 io F ][ she salted the butter 'f aM dB n I she trudged over broken glass played the flute and 'cello touri8m ill h R she menaced the domain of nightingales and beloap crucial E the ",ant of being .omeplace three she cried tears of milk clung to monkeys of odorous melancholy (de.ign motivated she breathed deep deeply sang in a tone of drunken freedom WHO WILL DE • t 1. a she made ugly faces in the mirror VEI..OI'E ENVELOPE she sanded the ivory floor with a dusty nap sack LOP LOOP UP THE TONGUE she ran her fingers through volcanic boisterousness BYGONE TIm DONE DEED she wed the mother of a goat to several turbulent kites of expressing she sought after the golden maidens t.Iloy wltupend to t.M people a"''''' foc _ t.M d ....i< mal coald beaIl t.M rwvenal at ~ oeq_ she smiled a gristly filament of flour - lUIJ c...~ of ud .... she turned her frozen back bat t.M fat.- she went to the village to sing to the natives trepidation she tripped over the tasty bones of imaginary sky licltiDg our btoept..re ~0rw.11.t. the r~lic she ripped through the skin of a sticky lobster ooDditioaa _~ she threw larks into boots and spit with the flavor of kinship fingers resemble she whispered tiny fevers into tilled'greases she kissed the waters draughts filled crevices with her madness the she danced with this reverend of lust funy f train she cooked the dinner in a vat of lard shards of memory o s she merely collapsed propped the lisp of hybrid fleas the concert to perfection she cleansed the masses of hair in the mid-winter i kn..the n.me she listened closely to unknown cliches she frilled the scarce fragrance of oils unknown h.r. littl. littl. here little little she addicted herself to a fraudulent father dmionneeryo she laughed outside in the greenness of the sweaty wilderness she found a tunnel into the sun Nico Vassilakis she abducted a sword befriended the flesh of a town she flew over the mountains she itched she asphyxiated thIS equatorial guillotine she faced the bricks of a wall and licked the limestone fences TECTONICS SERIES #3

I wish I were a bright flash of light Darrel L. Pritchard Her Baby the frontier of bitter dream worries I'd wear a candlelight stars patch and so much french brides flush yawn slew like a bird, exotic in spotlight fart THE FUCK YOU OF LIFE'S BIG DREAM HOUSE & delicate the jewelry of reason working lunch. suddenly marriage & the reinforced bank discuss autonomy Off course in the kitchen, shucking corn, a man sells life insurance. In John Buckner the master bedroom and den wait two other men with life expectancy charts they hold candy flowers for 6 months who've helped themselves to razor thin china bowls full of sliced bananas. because tuxedos are credit A sales rep sits in the children's bedroom blanching bacon over a hot cards plate and he's got a life insurance offer that really, if you are completely important hands woo once a week. and totally honest, just can't be beat. On the master bath toilet another observation & ornament agree, the salesman, holding an oyster and a chrome handled oyster knife, sits with an explosive wedding of self-disclosure actuary standing by at the alert. He's offering free premiums for the first remains a restaurant of international gowns. three months. One life insurance salesman for each room of the house and "modern bride" apr/mat 1991, p. 52 this place has 8,000 square feet, not counting the garage or deck. Let's face it. This place is a god damn dream house. Jeffrey Little Erik Belgum 1 Autopoem (cars passing me in Darmstadt in 3D minutes) two videotapes strolling in the particle forest discuss the rain OAK DALK OAT DARM DAIU DAS DAVO DAA DABE DADM DALU DAR DALK FAI DAIS DAKJ DAI DATT DABN DABL DAIU DAH DAAA DALG "as if his hair. a fungal corona" DADU DAW DABV DAXY OAF DAKG DAI DADS DAES DARY DABU DAG "the ape dogs teeth eclipsing the streaM trout recapitulate DAWN DALL DAII DAHJ DALO DAGV DAC DAWE OAR DAP MUT DAGL where realtors fear to tread -- eabiscuited, aerloted -­ DAKT FIH DASL DAX DABT DAEV DAEE DAKX DAOL DAI DAPL FU as the digits deforM DAC DASS DALM LUS DAG DAVY DASS OFT OFKS DARB DATT DARP whats between seconds. tablecloths rising into two-backed beasts DAIT DALP DAKB DAFG DAER DARD DAG DAB DALL DAPE FUR DAN ribs like bandoleers seeking the savory blood of their own cleansing DACV DAY DAM DALK DAPO DAKU DAFT DAGR DAJI DAE OFER DASS DAHA DAD DAGA OAT OAE FAR DAGA DAHT DALG DAH DAPP DASL the flute grows thick froM everything outside the train. eocuhsatr Morning relatives, growing through the aluainua aap grid DAAG DARN DALE DAGY OFTT DABU DALI DAEY DASJ DAKL DAFR "you are not here" several arrows see. to say, DAVC DAYX DASE DAWR DADE DADA DAS DALL FAR DAX DAGF DAJ tho their languages break down like aesopotaMian bacon DAGH DART DACO DAV DABE DANO DAGA DAL DAFT brewed froM the worlds oldest wood just one toothpick will keep you dry suspended by your well trained breath, a saxophonic vortex The numberplates of cars registered in the Darmstadt region always a drua no one dares to strike start with DA. if they could see the faces in its skin either the blackberries or the barbed wire are an illusion Jurgen O. Olbrich or this tea ia standing in, tanning ay gullible eyes FINDING LIPS IN "THE SCREAM"

the swallows of babies that do their growth as big as anything without a neck glass face with what liquid running through gravitational channels we cant tune into because of the way our hands jump when peeled froM the inside turned over repeatedly so the seams reveal the inner workmanship, probably fibonnacin or that four-part lattice blending as we step away: GROWTH BIRTHS arOMas, sounds and something relativistic sneaking up, not froM behind but through the sea.s of our own construction, a sympathetic dissonance birds pulling heads through lace tapestries caused by ignorance of our structure, how to unfurl, like a tree thats green when you cant see it or a brick co.ing through the sun newly baptized forgetting the kind of friction that creates cold, how growth can skip steps Stacey 5011 frey without collapsing or the roof of a house sets the tone for an orchestrated life when woodwinds Marry strings and the inert gases begin to display a palette of nutritional co.bustion aade into a aask or aap, top- and phren-ology blended into a Mystical prejudice or journey" the whias of a calciUM balloon, INDEPENDENT STUDIES brain size exceeding pelvic reach" where steaM goes to, a Moist entropy, or trying to pee in subzero weather-- Squozen toothpaste, a percentage of brazen numbers aultiple explosions in the sensory grid 7on7~led from the public for their own good, including a risk to reMove the dross of aeaory and rules, 1nd1v1~1 ease. That shooting recognizable molar pain? freeing the 5th aarx brother or horseaan who is iaagination Locate w1sdam--where do you pick?--coin pulled unbridled by physics history or oxygen, a life aask from behind the redhead's ear. Justifiable jealousy the pharaoh died for, prograaaable airrors, because of previously noted details. Planning actors who everyone adaires but no one has actually seen, observable in sentence structure. Ginger ale bubbles fingers of the blind reaching below your bones rise like the spirits of female adolescents to stiMulate the yolks burbling of unfinished protein, in purple kneesocks. If ties are phallic symbols, call in the aolecular carpenters before the tiae-winds of winter what do beltbuckles mean? Forks at tables·- tether the Minds range of eMbroidered survival, hairy etiquette of spoons on ceramic spoonrests. a fall we dont know how to aend or detour around Tea the comfort food. Mans named Irene? No it's not figured out. On consignment. Bing~cherry pies, home-baked desserts. Sane truth does not depend on facts.

Dan Raphael Muriel Karr Save sullen here, I drive, hearing that, till the universe, understanding oneself. planks bristling with her, left immediately preceeding Like invisible blood, and loving the proper pitch. in three hundred million pipes, black, hearing. Nothing you, is in the more salt, covered by the steaming coffee Quit dropping dimes in green pastures; delight. The preceeding sentence in fact, darling, gazing at first requisite of certain principles What happens.The Lemurs, its laws and quantitative understanding in exalting the motel mirror Set by the first Drive and correct handling. till you have only sentence For entry into the sage in time before him. is defined obliquely aS,text

Burning garbage cans I will fear no limit in dread of his genes ~o wipe on each piece barked at seven.

Volunteers are living roads When you live that the pump was within by 0 Tao an indefeasible right of the previous string to go to the dog from her which it I might speak with that voice (with unsurpassed quality and craftsmanship) in the noiseless drone of thy . of frying onions heart began?

Burning truck parked in many You live in a rotten beam. medusashaped chandeliers. Let your wrists.

whose interplay involves different enough place, with soot, cheekbones showing. Ficus Strangulensis put himin stitches

amongthe bugs

1%1. on tho a;trllll: BOSS' .SLICE will ~o Itself and lead '"!I'i.

Larry Tomoyasu JD S. Gustav Hagglund If mUjerika mujerozna mujema mujeruUBUM mujererte mu ererta j e mu er te j r mu er ta j e r m u a e r u e e m rt

./' rn j '- a Q) au rt r m j e rt (] e j " ell ~ rta (] /" Dan Nielsen ~ e e (J> e '- A)'! Mi corazon plaaado de ceros mi COraD espasmodica backdonlna de conios sin enie sin anio sin onion rerrito de arv~as lus viejas de mud quila vu sin nu. Que Ia vu rl {\ 2 Iva se Dubla que la psya te corta lIuUed te corroe i.e corn N las medias las tetas los pendejos del ano dd anJo del coni L. (mujererte entr6pica) •.-4 o machacan masacran marac::an de ,ou in the edle or nada bO ~o (city 1Hu14rds). ~ of or que Ia caladura pda: los rorros Fabio Doctorovich c se Ioc:mdJaa. Ia acaIera se clerruma. cooinremal estrepito. Cae d teJon dd primer ado. APLAUSOS.

i Fabio Doctorovich

AM'N'CER the only way he played in his tux was to make sure he always walked straight up the street

L'orbicular de 'os mios 0'08 'n 'u 'xtrema 'xpansi6n; Stacey SolIfrey l'orbicular de 'a mia hOc' 'n 'u mism' actitud; ambos eartflagos sendos 'rificios nasales aum'ntando, y '08 dedos 'n mis manos: radiales, e oreis, 'lim'ntando c'racoles h'mbrientos, wean y '08 dedos 'n mis pies: radiales, elojorojoelojorojo the y s610 gram08 mi cuer'o. elojorojoelojoro.. eggshell calendar elojorojoel....ojo L'asombro halla 'u rostro 'n mis oos humanos. . .. jorojo..ojo.ojo (legacy contour)

Carlos Estevez Raul Garcia I~ Thomas Wlloch /3 VIRTUOUS WALTZ / WEBSTER'S 246-247 La vida sencoje The horse bracking hantly on sturb crutches as the men The feast of the dedication, act of waiting; ambush te chupa gailding the torches and a neglected, homeless wretch that may be wounded knives belve their gourgers, A bird of preynimble rapid an evil spirit Voodoo striking the horse's face. te coje The man walming with a dranded to arouse pleasure to animate lively; brisk tumble limberth hatches his hand and roll low manners hot springs soft mass ro to the mare, caverting its lling round to convert abuse forcible toemit ay mouth. Oiled and bredgered a view through an Avenue rapid fugitive acidanimation thoughts torrend, paiking will to become vaporous ejection fro harsh grooves into the m a benefic a (ay. "" corazo" d, clMllrO pll46 horses hurded, incordant kind of dance; to thrash to live in filthcarrion ay, ""aIM d, ~0fHJS ,1lY,1IIYI flesh. A tallid hand hurds crafty vociferating lawn-tennis orally sulphuric vital ay. ""pi_ ,~ou _kocIM) up a lantern, adgering light, viscid lament a structure of stone kreaning the blood-trossened bronc, whom with its haideled William P. Haynes/Elliott Fabio Doctorovich legs boltered upright. This caused frettered emotion among the men. Their legs Spanish Fountain bequest ORDINARY PHYSICAL ELIMINATIONS abed, hasking them, allowing drinking from the same glass them to keep the horse darred. a skull fused to the springs 40 empty dollars worth of from ALBA DE MEDEAS That soren horse all carped up, brunch can apartments bellet~ng its body bund in (this paper has no surface) Asargada hierba circles could baidely allow William P. Haynes/Elliott 10 que quedado itself to sep as a normal her goal as an artist is campo habla horse. However, the men finally to paint sound and movement undered the knife quickly por arte maltrato (stuck silent) danz6n damero down, leamitting blood to cleal onto their browdens. PREGNANCY blanca tunica why are you peeling They scurried off into the all those bananas? liturgica sonrisa pourtef night, ligging behind making pink bubbles que se ponga that poor dased horse. Such out of a blue nightgown (i've looked everywhere else!) encima por alba a saldry sight to beall that doesn't chew gum damnaci6n parking separates the men Medea aclama from the cars hijos al templo CL Champion mancebas reinas Stacey SolIfrey donde oveja Dan Nielsen crisol en copa identica sangre Medea ordena BEGINNING AGAIN hijos al templo cada uno delicado all that exists some days puno guarecida hoja is constant pain. it can be physical or mental it rumiante terror doesn't matter. pain is pain. all pain is unbearable. Medea atiende you have to do something to escape it. whatever you do extiende joya just makes the pain worse in the long run. we live too enlodada a veneno long to live with any style. our last years are spent generoso entregado drivelling in sesame oil and complaining to the walls Medea observa about the fact that they're walls and so drummers come cenida cabeza into your room and pound on your head. there is no en Glauca lasting happiness. but there is always lasting pain. criada guadana pain lasts forever. there is no escape. energy is frozen Medea donado dano in the tastebuds where the gold keeps coming up to the edema a dedos surface and so you spit it out and then a tiger leaps danza dentada out of your armpit. the beer goes down and causes even more pain. there's no excuse, no explanation, no way out. even death offers no definite hope. Emeterio Cerro p Greg Evason Rea Nikonova IS' Velocity Big OH TWINE A BIB (HILL-ROCKING)

She can't sleep and the radio Oh twine a bib of birthday hollows takes her downstairs. that one, yeah. It's blue 'Round your satellite of memoirs sweetly tarted; A large white owl is sining on her couch. and you, you're a creep. let go 0' cushions hankering for eyedrops in Sorry but you know you The sore junkyard's morn ..• should just say things My mechanic is in the hills, This is a riddle. My buster-baby of the calendar calling, at times like these. Care Shines a graph of calves upon us, She looks at her ha nds. nothing of process, 's boring. A whole playground of fortean winks steaming ./dido" c.,111 lJiIlJ. And the processors too, yeah As sure as Shannon County ceases at Summersville-­ ./dido 't (.~tli lui)). those. Figure a feeling Or maybe not, But blazing giftwrapped in my starry trance He carries a compass in his left claw. and gray it by time, flinch Bellows-pumped by further cold fronts; He flies right at her, flies a crack over the shoulder Be a watercolor harbinger of ancient houses freezing through her and away. liminal, I have no idea Releasing crystalline cartons of goods the where and when hows When hill-rocking becomes the last green storm, The electric archive of flounderings exploded She can't sleep. So she gets hers. It's enough. The word "travesty" types itself across And now what do you think the whiteness of the moon. of those others, those who tried The moon is not a page. It is your tourniquet, weird fuckers a white fist knocking, and tattooed on its knuckles Steve Roth is her name.

./1Iei/f1Iim CJYIog. Soow dnlls Jill

me glaSS dome. T1JJOef7S I.1S1 Iviefdea looger milO O.U.l0g.

She can't sleep. A bird is stuck to the center divide. FAKE TRANSLITIC #1 He is so ligh~ an artifact cars vibrate his wings (for Joel & Nick) while the streets hum conundrums and words beginning "Mucho Barismo" at this home town cafe. with'T' The underside of lambs are soft only on occasions. click on and off. Ah, but your dress He will not fly clinging like currants on my tongue but he flies toward her. too, makes me weep. This cafe is nothing without night. Neon sign glistens Carol Gunther like the pee-pee of kings! (unleavened dancers still, tranquil in the pit) CUL-DE-SAC Tomorrow, the trees turn green & ruffle. Outside, a sky Tonight, I have nothing to offer and the big blue mailman but a few frozen rubies ripped from my tongue. Lisa Helgesen David Thomas Roberts Star Bowers /~ /7 SLUMP: NUDE WITH A BEARD DBI'BNBSTRATB Running a fever WHAT'S NEW HAS PAST catching a fever I want Klaus von Bulow to bring me Manhattan aspirins Owl the storm in the slang lyre: like froid why fan's butt-juiced anal-ist in his seat there, the chair turned. On the air of the railers! (Whence the han's l~st loose; in the chair rain!) (OWl, there a norm lights up a I get sleepy and he asks door-ringer where world beat••.• ) "No, there his chair hurled, are you sleepy lights a flood shed!" Oh, there her cunt whirled, EYE, to her norm aspirins don't make me sleepy is no flyer! Where the continents spread! There no flatterer turned! ("Owl, there the torm's roast sign wired, hurled... ") the crumpled cigar of a man by my bed crotch smelling like decaf

I am the transvestite that Jack Hogarth THERE AIR calls son Fasting his fly, there the beads banged, or, skill toward shards, licks a cock-in-hand (this sight glides town, I'm Rane Arroyo's soiled angel there no fellow doomed) To she flits air, north's whites! (There the blessed danced... ) But this mist-air, then I'm Glenn Sheldon's wedding dress with two husky arms the flash passed, suck like a cock pranced-pressed. Licks a hag! That's at flight's crown! (That these feasts I'm Ai's butter knife passed, where's done?) a mystic soldier dips his legs into the wind harp inside morning's thighs SHEET felony treaties slightly parted There the choir freaked: flange thee, lates no farce to a sneeze, there the licker doomed, off the tree they sank••• at the hyphen To a shore she peaked such wells ran (there's the cove!) lick the flapper's old ass Should she scorn, sail? Should she parch there a skiller's flail? (To the score's teach knave, shorts the find yourself being strangled crates 0' flood, there a shock's pestered) There a your jeans about your skinny neck make at the "shove naught" deepened! There she ~ me! the body reclaims itself (Fry the sheep'd "Door" ... ) my ass my face spill into each other like a broken pitcher DEFNESTRATED of margaritas

At the floor-shrunk! Loam! Nor a floor-noose charged! I hit my sexual peak There the moths in the farms skipped; isn't there their reeds? many dog years ago The flight at a check? "Nose" she splits, lunch their offers, the flown scorers there a night flits! So a score-- flunked! Lates! Nor a grease at his night tattered! I wear ulcers Nor a movie's plath! Nor the tent-fines! There's a in dazed cosmic intestinal deja-vu festivals rooming's vines! There's vessicular infatuation there when I've already been rimmed by the skinny moon the tests limb! Not a form-snot! Blinds! CJ) a last mouth swallowing poet whose co E empty gravity fits o Tomaso diBeneto .r: a postage stamp and whose frightened ~ SWINE city feet: I'm writing to you

people rolled up foreheads/squinted ate lumps that my K-Y jelly glows in the dark some of the needles as big as your pegleg like a sunny day in Seattle with the mural on it if you couldn't stand to watch like a kick in the groin of noon you watched the mural flow and tumble backwards with going on like this exposes one's erections a clunk your neighbors with foreheads unbuttoned flapping to unlisted phone numbers hurrying to help the stunned the shocked the stricken the fallen the lame the skewered the faint of wit the livid God you watched unstoppable nosebleed fill gymnasium answer your goddamn phone so nurses could shark around their erect eyes in but God skintight fear splashing your exposed manicured skull gave up AT&T

so let us sprint and sprain an ankle Musicmaster inside your brain EXlA I~ .r-- - A IDLE IDOL IDYLL :I~' F LT A !\ e- -. .:. I:M :.f II l K L )( N 0 It For Dr. Bernstein If. e i: \i E N 0 Jl I K p ~ V X Q .. I approached the idol. It sat there. The sun was setting. I was drunk, • 1 I 3 I 4 I r.I 6 •• '. II .. II \' < idle. With the tip of my boot I tapped its neck. Got a grip on the lower lip. Y Z .> y ...£ Vaulted up into.the mouth. ~~JcrE. ~ ~ ~ ~~, I ib Sat on the edge of a tooth. Daydreamed a bit down at the dust. Realized, .• ft 4 had to urinate. Stood. Turned. Unzipped. Spattered tongue with processed whiskey. Scared a rat down there gnawing fat off an adnoid. B c- D :& .., Bladder empty, bored, skittish, I crawled out on the lip. Shinnied up the philtrum. Grabbed a nostril. Scrabbled over the zygomatic arch. Lodged • my ass in an eye. Some sucker below lit incense. Myrrh, ozone, frangipane? I strained to see who. M... Couldn't see that far - not without toppling. Which I did. Wrenched an ankle, barked a shin - skating a nosewing. Butt-skidded to a hole in the ebony for an ear. The rim, however, proved narrower than that of the eye socket. I straddled fA B Ie -~IXT ·v the inch-wide wood suddenly. Jewels jellied on impact. K 1 ~ L X N 0 I howled up inside the hollow head. P Q .. S T VX Howls howled. Reverberated like curses in a public toilet. Nobody answered. 1.16iYZ In fact, the whole town had headed for the hills - terrified at my agony .. i6i,lh amplified out the mouth of God. When I finally calmed enough to breathe, I leaned back in the balcony­ sized earhole. Adjusted my seat to allow blood to coagulate. Happened to crush : ~, :~ ~~ a black widow. -. ....::.. Venom infused my sphincter. 1& b c d I shivered. The scab around my groin leaked. Trousers' cool wet dripped on in warm. z I puked. 1 m n y II, Rattlesnake poison gyro-ed my brain. Managed not to fallout of the ear. - - :.. Secured myself with knuckles through knotholes. Cold sweat sheeted gooseflesh. Two stories overhead, bats flew off the inner skull. Swooped down to lacerate my pate. For good measure, the last bat, flying out through the ear to go raise hell in the twilight, bit my septum~ A nice razor slash. Clear to the foramen. Before he could escape, I snatched his slavering ass. But the lurch upset Serse Luigetti my balance, and we fell. Careened across the cheek. Banged off the nose. At the chin I saved myself with a crotchpoint landing. SMELLED LIKE CANTALOUPE AND CRAB SOUP My fist clutched ruined wings. The bat squeaked - what in hell did I think I was doing? I smelled like cantaloupe and crab soup when she came to call. She had I yelled into deaf ears, "Trying to get to the bottom of all this!" been fixing a salad for herself, not lasagne for two, and my lips were an I ate that bat on the spot. Choked on the fur, coughed hydrophobia into orange smear of Old Bay and melon. The kitchen tile was seeded and sticky, my sinuses. Dedicated my meal to - why not - God. my pants half opened, pasted and dusty. I awoke to a dog on its hindlegs, licking my tired blood. I was closer to death than the angels. Her toes grew into the carpet, wind hit the back of her teeth. "Nice dog," I breathed, petted the snout, died. "I'm so excited," she said, hugging me and I hugged her back. "Sure." I scraped a little hole in the wallpaper and peeked out the shades to see the sky streaked magenta, the sky getting ready to give me Willie Smith away. Why had Mom cried? What had my father whispered? "I am married," I said aloud. For a moment it felt like a cage around my heart, and I wondered what it meant.

Rupert Wondolowski

thirty-nine people died while you read this short poem

Rea Nikonova Mark Pawson "Let Me Eat Massive Pieces of ~" From 1001 CONTEMPORARY BALLETS Note: When I finally got around to reading what was painted anonymously Meant to be a parable of masochism, this ballet confines several athletic on the door at the Living Museum and saw that it said, "Let me eat massive pieces of clay, with the few people I have loved on," I remem­ performers to a single space open at the front but otherwise five feet bered suddenly that for the past 6-7 months I have been putting off on each side. bringing you the latest installment in the "Molly 0." story. The next time I put off bringing you one of these installments for 6-7 months I expect it will be more like 6-7 years, but now that I've brought Richard Kostelanetz the matter up I feel, in a manner of speaking, duty-bound. As has been previously noted, Molly O. is sixteen and lives under the care of her family in a large Southern city (not Rio) from whence, at odd intervals, xeroxed extracts from her diary reach me via the U.S. Mails. For some wholly mysterious reason Molly O. always writes of herself in EPHEMERON the third person, as a "she" and a "her" instead of an "I" or a "me". This is really a boon because when a young person like Molly O. writes There is no process to prescribe or describe about themself in the third person you have less tendency to personally but wonderful and heady real daily magic identify yourself with them. Anyway, note, as you delve into the coming extract, how beneath the tortured surface of these teen woes there with heavier each natch you oscillate. flows the sparkling undertow of irrepressible rodomontade. Umbrellad membrane abeyance kicks each assunder lightly,elfishly,flicking tepid unctous rapists. Saturday, July 11 The chance is always to change. Molly came back last week from her first ride on a pony and Molly's Now did our yearly orbit understand.Really eat family isn't sure whether it was anything like leftover yesterdays.Believe everything such a good idea to let Molly do it, come back, that is. like inevitable exhumation under exhumation. Molly is not the same girl That is how anything that saves it's tail simpler. somehow. First of all, right To ouch the hell each left each feebler. in the driveway when the fam­ Tomorrow that hell angles tipless. ily got home and Molly was You are oxy-macoronic unless. climbing out of the car, there was that little incident about Rabid effusion actually clogs the unplugged accident the tire. The whole fami- like leftover yesterweeks,turning unturned reruns ly was set to go straight in nightly insidious. Nefarious gags do ovulate. the house, but Molly insisted You ovulate unobstructed. Really. on squatting down next to the right front tire in her sweat­ Entertaining abberation like leftover yesterworlds. stained riding togs, and then Believe in every vug.Every that. Molly started making repeated Hence acclivities treacherous crawl. stroking motions on the tire Remain aware with lightly now. with her hands, both hands, and how! As Molly stroked the Oleaginous white persons,pee on yourselves. tire, every muscle in her body Every really see our naked or raw people. (that Molly's family could Each our pungent lewd effluvium. see) tensed completely. Molly A COLUMN OF PIERCING NOCTURNAL That hell always triples you or ullulates. gasped, b:eathed hea7'ily, grip- ~'~.', EARTHIN.f;.5S Feel easters ether.Lump yourself on ugly rugs. ped the tire convulsively, and -- ,,'., - " her neck stiffened into a long hard teeth-grinding stretch that made See every little frankenstein to other lands. Molly look a lot like Alice does in the picture bookS when she's had Be empathetic. There happily each rakish,every is seldom. too much of that stuff in the bottle labeled DRINK ME. After that, on An atom neuron alterboy learns to alter rational the way into the house, Molly convulsed with what looked like the "dry and neurotic demons.A distorted iconoclast studies the oracle heaves." Molly sort of shuddered and shook as the muscles of her body kept on contracting. Father glanced at mother and a "look" passed be­ referring to every dead christ.Having read it's secret tabloid tween them. Too great euphoria can often lead to moral cancer. There is he eats satans white hiney.It tastes eerie and imbalanced. not even a medical term for the colloquial "losers weepers." The fol- Oh my broken abject lassitude.A nasty coccyx eel. lowing concerns you and your habit of voiding anywhere that fancy seizes Dying there,here,everywhere.Reincarnate ecstatic. your fanny during spells of dizziness. The rest is brute strength. Are rapid eastern directions imminent razzmatazz. Each corpulent tongue is of nexus. Nothing really serious happened curing dinner. But at the end of the Systems of frantic course underride.Some evade but untie meal it was another story. Fawing her way through cessert (banana pudding) tongues not only talking to only those hunks Melly became unusually tense, with legs straight out, rigid anc frenzied of silly equestrians who howl or are returned.Every left. pelvic movements, hitting vocal heights right there at the table, and to­ Each fabled tornado hanging art near greenish intuitive ward the end a sort of simulated rigor mortis.Holly'& family actually nascent gals in nitrogens embarrassed motherlode. had to carry Molly out of the dinin~ room. Molly .... as '''stiff as a plank," and it was approaching midnight before Molly could stand up unassisted. Bellowing astral reruns run astral sedans southest. When she did, she was given the nickname "Red" because of how bloodshot Dollor moonlight,olive orb 'nicely lit her eyes looked. As a matter of fact, from that moment on, it would have is guiding his tongue tonight and only tonight. been just as easy to have harbored a wild baboon around the house, the way "Red", as Molly was now called, continued to act up, the household a hell­ welter of tllrmoil wherever "Red" set foot and fell into one of her frenzies. Batworth So in the end they got a baboon. Friday, July .!l The summer continued hot. The cottonwood trees gave down a fine white Dazed, Professor Soresmouth shivered again. Watching his eyes dust that tickled the nostrils and balls, bound in gray horsehide. Once, glued on "Red" who continued to hUff like a steam engine and stroke when mother had the new baboon out in the backyard and ~as hosing it off, h~s switch and riding crop collection, he felt every nerve in his body Professor Soresmouth who lived next Cooor caught sight of them through the vlbrate as though it might spill its contents on the floor. Thoughts window of his study. He squared his shoulders and tossed off his drink in that the pOlice,might pick ~hat very moment, or the next (or the next!), one big gulp. "I wonder if you're aware, 'Red'," he said, "that your fam­ to pound down hIS door contInued to oppress him "big-time" like irreg­ ily now owns a baboon?" "Red" didn't reply because, at that moment, she ~lar fi~gernai~s drawn along a blackboard and he grew some morose over was too bUsy stroking the professor's collection of 18th century switches l~. Besldes, hlS head felt heavy because he was wearing the telephone and riding crops and the rigid tremors were allover her, especially in dlrectory. the region of her neck, arms, chest and groin, and both legs. "A baboon!" the professor said. "It is certainly almost beyond the bounds of decency that things in this neighborhood should have come to such a pass." He Al Ackerman said this in a tight, quiet voice that bespoke a massive build-up of tension, or else was lit from the front and side like the hy~othetical copper chair of fornication. There was nothing under that chair, a low overshoe made of this rubbery material. A roof was over "Red's" head and mouth. The scene in Brentwood was perhaps less tense but still pretty bad. And how unexpectedly long the five minutes till closing time seemed! Unable to get an answer out of any of them, Professor Soresmouth sighed, shook his head and determined then and there to consult his Random House , o. ":1.:'0',= Dictionary, hoping to find out whether he meant "such a pass" or "such a waruirtoerr past"? There seemed, under the circumstances, no othe~ choice. That the ~ family had paid him only $110 to take "Red" off their hands continued to gnaw at him and he had strong qualms about being arrested as a "slaver". CELEBRA TED Sl•• The first signs of that old wristbone-shivers was coughing and chOking a bit, too. Things were all canned up. Who knew what might happen jf the neighborhood went any further downhill? The professor shivered and none too delicately. Solely, whitishly Caucasian, he fixed another drink. An­ Larry Tomoyasu other typical "shooter" drink, too sweet, too sweet. Who could predict, he asked himself, what might ensue if the police were called in, if there should be a search of the premises or even gunplay, if the freshly patted, still damp cement flooring down in the basement should be discovered? Or, what if strange creatures swept out of the distance toward the garage, what if some had bloody noses and fixed grins and some acted downright giddy, what if the meal-bugs came out in their weskits and consumed all, what if a symbolic significance charged with a ~ell-determined erotic meaning shoUld be related to aviation, what if the sea should offer oysters to the parched land, what if Timbo the Rain God regressed into a polka dot dress, what if speculation in personal property grew vociferous as the transactions took place more and more rapidly between Great Ringtailed Barmies, what if middle-of-the-road politics should crash . to the side­ walk, what if Cirrhosis of the Liver should wed Water on tllC Brain, what if their offspring began to perform and perfumed the air with the lovely aroma of little fat nuns, what if "Tarzan of the Apes" shoUld try to endow himself with a magnificent heredity, what if the English vil­ lagers' love of nature should become so corrupted it operated out of boxcars in the Salt Lake City railroad yard for the next six months, what if the Day of Atonement should be reduced to a thrilling liter­ , alness, what if a certain young, irresponsible dude should renounce hygiene to carry sinus trouble too far, what if the ego-soul which always proclaims itself so as to negate itself should forsake this practice and assume the name of "Spitting Chiclets," what if sun spots erupted and counted backwards by tens, what if the corpses of Sherwood Lake barked first from the right, then the left, then the right, what if the American Red Cross should cast itself with all its considerable force upon the neck of Monk Lewis, head downward, what if every. time you smiled a fairy was born, what if mankind should commence to feed continually while making trashy swimming motions along the ground as sharks do through the water, what if Idaho should revolt, if soybean futures should crumble, if trees couldn't be cut down, if clay lost its savor, I may not be able to keep this up much longer, as the heat from my jaws is making my "do" limpen, but what if "language writing" should meet the Hite Report head-on without being properly introduced and vice versa, what if the syllables thus engendered should emerge crumpled and squat tingling out, what if the words ran away with each other like the dish with the spoon with a death wish, what if the sen­ 'tences they formed shoUld lead inexorably to ruination on a plantation, if nothing in the world can stop their advance, or repress a nauseated shudder that looks suspiciously like "dry heaves" in the driveway? What then? What then? Sergi Segei UZI

The large man with the Uzi steps into the road and stops an arab's car. CORRIDOR STORY Casually, precisely, he breaks a headlight with the barrel of the gun. He waves the car on. He signals the next arab's car to stop; he breaks a headlight. A little later, strolling down the sidewalk, he overturns a The corridor is short. Long. Herman lives in the corridor huckster's pushcart. The huckster watches the cabbages and melons scatter; with Michael. They've lived there all their lives. Moments. when he tries to gather them, the large man kicks them out of reach. Michael has memorized magazine articles. He often recites. The army patrol leans against their half-track. Backs turned, they Not stopping for days. Never starting. smoke. They don't like what's happening. This fool is making trouble; * eventually, the soldiers will pay for his bullying. More than one soldier The corridor i endless. Stretches around the world like an would like to hit him. But they have no orders. They are under discipline. eel. Magazines publi h stories about it. Corridor stories. Michael knows them all. Herman learns them from Michael. One soldier says to another, This place is getting like Dodge City. No Once they've memorized them all, they can forget. Only then. one responds. They can never forget. Standing by the edge of the road again, the large man inspects oncoming traffic. Laura works in a bank. It is behind an ordinary doorway. Magical doorway. There is no money in the bank. It has plenty of money. Laura would like to leave her job. She's Robert Nagler heard Michael's stories. They put visions in her head. Sudsy visions. "One day," Laura says, "I'll leave the bank and float down the hallway forever. The suds will carry me to heaven." She* is mistaken, of course. There are no suds in the corridor. Michael made that story up. It is completely accurate. Herman* is overcome by grief. Joy. He lies face down and allows himself to be trampled. Thousands of people walk on him. Only one or two. * "If I were a nurse, Laura begin • Then sbe is The bank as merely n ele ent in one of Michael' fictions. Michael find this troubling. Until tbe TV people offer to make him a star. "Just tell your. tories on TV!" qpureesgtuinotna they implore. He agrees Disagrees. At the hospital, Laura watches Michael on TV. Hi image floats above the beds. "I'm Michael, says Herman. And Sergi Sigei he is. "Me too," says Laura. And tbe hospital melts away. Becomes all the more olid. Michael* floats down the corridor on cascades of uds. MAKING A PICTURE "Wash clean my eyes, he says, and reveal heaven." This is his late t tory. Making a picture in your swimming pool and putting a knife in someone's wallet David Gianatasio and a ghost in someone's closet a picture that is on a couch and a picture that is getting stapled up and the one who made it didn't want it stapled up. Typewriting in a living room GIRAffE PARTS on the floor and a funny mask that you're wearing and a lamp that's falling down. hgyup1 'been Milk louder than keyhole axis Doing a bad thing and you're writing flickering tongue of toothpaste taxes on the furniture. cchaassttiigsaer Plastic asses mike oil pool knoll l~ngerie masses oozing secrest flow fgoureedleojcak Also Bennett Byron Sm-lth

Gobbling and yelling together, the Gobbling Fellowship spat vividly on all resolve to quit; quixotically it forced insular Gobbling to become part of the colossal Homeric Gobbling, overawing mere subconscious Freudian Gobbling, or of Gobbling along a turnpike. Drive backwards! Drive backwards as fast as you can through snow & flurries while you fiddle the radio band through shoal after shoal of the burning crackling cellophane Gobbling that ham operators and contest bUffs mistakenly call static To find, not hip-hop, but rural drift back In 0 another world----Clear back to filling station music (in winter 1929) Because actually this dazzling white threadiness in your head & ears? Is you hallucinating I think it would be like entering the foyer of a roadhouse on Thanksgiving afternoon big ears, big coat, whoever left that scotch-and-water On the cigarette machine was staggering and forgetful Inside you can hear a voice that's all by itself probably bloCking its own light It's just a tuneless sort of humming at first And then it starts vocalizing Not well

The torch song called "1 Shall Gobble At You Presently, t!Y Dear"

I shall gobble at you presently, my dear, So make the most of this, your own little gobbling, Your little gobbles, your little half a gobbles, Ere I forget to gobble, or die gobbling, or move away gobbling,

And we are done forever gobbling, by and by I shall gobble at you, as I said, but now, If you gobble at me with your loveliest gobble I will gobble at you with my favorite gobble.

I would indeed that gobbling were longer-lived, And gobbles were not so brittle as they are, But so it is, and gobbling has contrived To gobble on without a break thus far Wheth~r or not we find what we are gobbling Is idle, gobblingly speaKing.

"0 IT \-lILL l3E !IS IF TilE SPIRIT OF GOBBLING ITSELF CAME IN A;IlO SWEPT AROUND". Tlat's right! It will be dS though something lik~ Loretta Young came in and swept around the room gobbling preciously like the demands of some spoiled colostomy pouch intractable to normal plane and taxi travel when you were gobbling there yourself, in the room where the six gobblers had been: Gobbling Bob~ Gobbling Ann, Gobbling Larry, Gobbling Ruth, and you, the bedecked sideshow-gobbler. And the sixth? the mystery gobbler whose part in this never came clear till the frozen sirloin steak on the pillow suddenly burst out gobbling in a "dummy voice"--the ventriloguist-gobbler! Of course! And that was part of it, the ventriloquist-gobbler crouching behind the drapes, throwing his voice while the sirloin steak lay on the pillow & dripped & gobbled out this pathetic routine at you as though you were "family" attending its death bed gobble scene:

"I presume that you, my dear ones, do not at all remember, or remember hardly at all, that highly important period of your existence which antededed your birth and which transpired in your mother's womb. But I--yes, I remember this period, as though it were yesterday! "So I quit my job yesterday and went down to the corner for a beer, at Redman's Tavern. There, as I half-dozed in my usual crouch at the back table near the bumper pool and the voices and liquid sounds of the tavern mixed themselves with my own vague mental impressions, the pre-uterine memories continued to flow and double back on me both ways, like the gurgling reportedly heard by Mar~ Le Breton, on Low Sunday (April 12) in 1249, when she was standing among the marigolds watching the animals jump in the park and listening to her own stomach gurgle its hunger up at her and a large man dressed in black, whom she 31 did not know, came through the animals and marigolds right up to her and asked, among other things, if she would care to watch him smoke a cigarette with his navel. He said, "Navel action, like death, sent down to the very bricks, is always the. symbol of the retreating waters," said the man in black, hearing Mar~ Le Breton's stomach gurgle. To which she responded that, actually, if the truth be known, ho, she would much rather he wipe a big sirloin steak on her butt. "But? But what?" asked the sirloin steak on the pillow. Its dummy-voice sounded querulous, more than a little peeved. It started to ask the question again, but what one does at any rate come to know in time one is the last to know at the time, so the steak's questions became less pointed, and at~hat very moment a second runaway tractor hit the house. What was this story's relationship to gobbling? Well, I think, leaving synchronicity aside, first of all do you remember the way your mind has been slipping gears lately when your preoccupation becomes such? After counting the 3,954 dust specks on the blinds you spend literally hours peering out between them where a moveme~t, any movement at all out there gets it going as a sign the relationship between you and you are who Is always gobbling or being warned the fuck not to Sanity is pressing its hands over its ears, semi-canals lining up in step-like arrangement There's a low red briCk wall about j ft high running Between the brick barbecue pit & the pool of black, ~arry, Sludge-filled oil, or the deep hollow you feel Refers to the attempt to penetrate the secrets Of nature----But the gist of this Is the cavalcade of intimations Of gobbling, "catching" as measles & unassuaged as The gobbling from this our life goes on being drawn from the scuttle-scuttle The gobbling life Not, but preserve, listen, preserve your gobbling habit When gobbling shoots out shaking its whiskers Pray you are home & among a bevy of gobblers (friends) Feeding trough not two inches from your nose in dirty Gobbletown (home) Home & fairly alert & not unmindful of the risks involved .... Because, listen: On Saturday afternoon Billy Buck, the farm hand, raked the last Of the old year's haystack ... and built a nest ... and settled down To gobbling so long & monotonously the sheriff had to be phoned. Malok It was then, of course, they saw gobbling was the code-name for gerbil ing.

--"Swarthy" Turk Sellers BREADBALL X VALVES

the priests pajamas. Some statue in Cincinnati with bug lights and garage walls. the slicing was real in the nightmare limestone under the hotel, paranoid § ysei's joggers in radiation suits hide () s.. behind other cars it made sense to •.-4 +> have psychic visions at dinner, s.. (I) garlicky angel-hair pasta Never­ +> eu theless slipping between them (I) searching a newspaper to save o> someone's life today the sun, he co realized, was Freudian and the plane, a pothole in the sky

s uuuuu rrrrrr D. P. Milliken 1 amaaaaaaa ~ L. C'O C'O L. L. ....'0 .c ~ ~ ....Q) ~

Boris Konstriktor Sean Whatever

THE POSIT IONS

LISTS AND LISPS When the woman sheds her curtains and the man's branch rises, its hardening First: . We must take out the garbage. The dog has laid a long lIne length pointing toward the woman's head, it is called "The Medusa." of dookie again, brown meshed with the broken screen and I guess When the man rubs the tip of his branch around the woman's open window but this dog thought we humans could not smell even thou~h we use the does not enter her house, it is called "Reading by Braille." stairwell by the broken screen over and over and agaIn and again. Breakfast is cereal and milk. No problem there. When the man rests his branch between the waves of the woman's breasts, A spoon and a dish to wash. Easy. it is called "The Gondola." Get the baby ready for the baby sitter. Since when does the When the man places his tongue inside the woman's window and the woman puts zipper go on the back? I could have strangled ~im. As it wa~, the her mouth around the man's branch, so that it appears they are entering and car seat did not sit right and the seat belt dId not belt rIght emerging from each other, it is called "The Ouroboros." and the-- The school bus for the field trip is on time. It is early When one lover ties the other's ankles and wrists to the bedposts so that in fact. Good. the prone body forms an X, and then tickles the bound body, it is called Why does it rain whenever you plan an outside field trip? "The Insult to Algebra." I bring home a can of cola. When the woman kneels and the man moves behind her, puts one hand on each I take out the dog. buttock, and moves them apart, it is called "The Wisdom of Solomon." I take out the garbage. I take out dinner. When the woman rubs her window along the length of the man's branch without letting him into her house, it is called "Jacob's Ladder." Second: When the man feels his gust approach his branch but stops so that it only throbs like a bell vibrating without making a sound, it is called "The Annunciation." Michael H. Brownstein 3'1 Mark Cunningham 4 IN, UN EMISSION

«"Cave that in me looms... filled with beds 'n rusty DRINKING sinks, where a phone in the toilet fresh steams and a suit on the bone-drawn wall's streaked... wher~ I w~ke, and tried to eat, but the forky mouth spread far So I limped toward that cave where the faucets rang, WIde, to close•.. like a wave in that murked deep "churning the milk" up that sunken trail for the pool down back the middle-heap, from the keyboard's dancing, slaves in the after-flow, toward a ward of splash•.. ") Ah's spilled from's head from's drain­ metal beds "behind the gilded wall", (stacks of dead fall! Ah's filled with's bread from's pain's bright and a huge-headed smile asleep in the vines), oh I call! (Ah' s "slave that in him blooms "', tall!» soddenly slept, the opening's grass in my eyes I closed and wept through my skin: so I stepped from my hair and the gritty air smoothed, ringing the bell of my teeth. In the throat of that drunken self I sang, swimming our tongue in the moat of speech 5

POOL

2 "Where's rain spatters past's hairy-end-gape, lying ALTARTOW on's teeth, where a breath-cloud circles 'n slopes' head like a cheek ... Ah where's ack-hacked speech clatters, like rocks on's feet and he up-yelps stands! In the reversion's talk we drift on the loosened (Holding her salty... hand on's chest's flowing belts, er, sheets of hair breathed at the crumbly wall's she's, under the mountain where the cool bottoms mouth, oh "o'er the valley we sail" safe in the sway, 'n spread..• ) In that boily mud's his center's damp fumes of immersion, er, home in the rocky closet stayed; risen in the milk he speaks! Ah that bag's where the ear-rings shine. For the hammer's sake I'm, dragged "home" where he briefly breathes; and's she! when the sand down the roofslab's funneled, smashing at (Whence's foraged eructions sing; and's "free"!)" trees so my words'll stink in the sun. Ah wide stone­ lips in the mere-mountains, five, surrounding this John M. Bennett "place"! Just's the eye-wheel's turned back, as our fissured speak o'er the dirt-teeth slides...

3 REVUELTA

(~r~cking, stalking, licking the bark er mud; blinking, wIpIng, the brush pulled back and a river slashed past; splashing, stinging, ah that ax the arm bloody sings where a sheaf of paper frays, his loins past the teeth­ cloth flayed; bringing, spraying, spit on the cheek sliced back ... Ah's packing 'n talking, sticking's heart for a dick of truth! (Sinking, hiding, the crushed chip-sack soaked; Ah's quivered in's crash; Ah's returned from's spinny reforaging dash!»

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Jake Berry & John M. Bennett RMewWotdi Challenge-wont. lunch toothache the carnival goes around to its proper tomb the breakfast ~,,'<&i~ .t..Jr the deep snows of Russia supper ~jVl~ goddess hides her shame in roast pistachios I say, hey, love lost claim her nugget for a fool's work and glory no more in the ...... ~~ tidal pools drift out forceps of Diana whose piano never sounded well anyway, C71,v guns 'n spades on the strings. So I bowed ahead, in a OtlLw./ crown of oily smoke, a shirt-mask, a suitcase of glass... 1JJliL ~ Michael H. Brownstein (But glad-handed, with a slapback, with a "Hi-Guy" ~,l~ simmering!) As the Lord drives his wind down my car I ...... sure know I'll fail, and what'll she say? Blown ... a ~ life on the turf blown the miles and miles and you silly gt"C"d "" c.~v< fi>~~ thing in your Persephone mask how you smile your own dull ~er1v ~lfMO life away! So sire me a coupon for that left-over rain-shirt J spattered with spinach, what the wind chewed, gnashed at a -f'~.~yJ:¥ wheel! (Like a mask of breasts or a TV screen; but I see c...... ~G-W even so, what flickers in the streaks of haze, the skin J'M,+.JN1\ within blood!) The bitter accent my pill is taking, the Cl,..·,~ TP sleep I am having of a thought which is to be beyond the ...... streak of a flicker there in the white migraine of the ~ tries black waves where the sun puts his mansion of a ghostly ~t~ candift BENNETT FAMILY GROCERY LIST head on the hood I accelerate into, crumbs on's teeth, counties what's left from's syllogistic speaking, like a political lau~ 8ift Edited by Fran Cutrell Rutkovsky vacuum where the taxes gnash. Oh my head's just read, and a fizzle, er, hissing leak ... and if it were a drug-case it would be different but it's not, just a hole in the flag and a so-called monopoly on dissidence, spit! The value of a tool is the fool who misuses and my slave FROTH FAIL Jim has been sent to the opaque realm, or closet of thought's mere, where a committee smirks and scribbles, So I failed forth, staples in my trunk hissing and wheezing at the door (the value of a pool, where the yanked down the tumbling mast, drunk pissing. syntax smoothes, where the "string-o'-words" becomes a Yeah, I sailed sever ... but missed, clouded the wave), just a tear in the flap of shirty time ... darker mother, the earth and trembling perfidy Then there's this bug thing all cloistered and a vendetta miss my soul the earliest dawning then drank a pill of bibliophobes, to close all the hatches leading to fire for I filled was, feet limp where the neck the "a drain! a drain!" my ear cries weeps note, for a little darker a gold gets my yellow greens but frosts two audible opium and not just the fright wig of Medusa twitching treasures I've never seen. So I spewed few, knew my like rubber tubes in a flame (it's the fame they seek, or wrists, tied where the slurry sank and the beach jeweled, choke-strength, from the clear pages locked (but their eyes, not that the ankle was higher than its tomb but that I in reeking socks clothed, pulsing with lice) Ah for the peopled the air with an insensate cry tooth's curved line! At the tongue's rite sloped! ...and x x x hit the bottomless water but I don't care, it's all German and guess who is coming through the compact mirror? and the entire dictionary is bottomless spit the history of Oh lesser spent, where the hair refracted! (Bent and the logic of silence be damned ... let the maenads tear the tunneled, where the steam... ) Or clear arms on the rope Presidential organ, let the bacchants do no common weal, just pulled and hollow the humped paragraph out considering chew, like their heels were mouths where Roraima burns, or that a parchment is so foil and the sky, Look! one very the last thin burgers made of ash or syllogistic choking. pit of perfidy: so now I fail running backwards to Mars So let the "President" its shrinking rind on the sea of where the war-bell on a wall breaks, jars of soot, and I rotting skin... and stronger I fail deeper fold highlight on a chair of glass shiver, buried in pens, the witless syntax in dead thumb unscrew that organ from its bole a end to a saga I never predicted but then an excuse is tree I send the edge gives in, whisper nothing to the arctic never a parody even if you use a wheel to transfer grass cave Klytemnestra in her sea the thief I crave the excrement, ritual abuse to the contrary, I prefer grave I rob ... So long dear reader that's no pass or hole chemistry and if that doesn't work, solemnize the jumped down in where a fire streams toward's distant ice. gonads, what's meat-writ on an obsidian cheek, seen in the Ah the rice I stole dreams me like a tongue across my sheet blear where the spattered rain, or speech spun. But in a fog of eating, or healing what's wound in me, like a then a use is a cavity, and the vapors I incur in my face nots-knot or a folded sleeve of grief. Let this be the final sank, which as they sing as stinking priests suck both strophe let this be the drop from the gut Ay! My hearing sand and wind from my eyes that bleed every morning after it's gone dozes and round the bend my pistolero aims at his being misinformed of a light I mean the light that could Mexicali rose a cigarette as certain as death can ever find never be like a fight under bloody mud where a clique but no aces as loud as the dollar of water! camps (thin smiles for the death-choked roads), like heroes they lie, in the excrement-sheets, skinless, charred in the teeth and this is a numinous time for a John M. Bennett & Ivan Arguelles LINK BALLOONED ON THE REEF

Where the link sinks (er, sings) in the sailing chain So's float sank, ballooned on the reef I forgot paints; no plasm, finer-ginger fingering outs kabobbing along the individuated (although) like a clouted head in a chair sunk; Oh I sell shrill cheek shelf where's soup smoked yr nomenclature astir beyond no matter spunk-eaters clobbergrass with skill that spun amok the (or a doubt ringing)! Where the blinking lure way parked with trees and a bulge of grass . some after-scrims; what plussed here folly attributes certain monks ensconced in purity rang homelife or the hair stiffs up, like a shiny fist stacking wood on the rocks a rarified brand. of inter-plined within it; after's gone, toward secrets scotch that sears most cheek, bU~ speak~, like a sawing toward, several walls of clay lifting skirt voluminous, say, With claims of the lunkered speed shift whams easled ports benigning invisible imagination, and blinks (Where my hunkered speed lands, a sort of lying) Thee's a bungled lead-bands, the port at spying: {If I could ...but your bloody glover...swimming at the door ... Angled spasm delight no motor skills ahead again. cbaallvdo SELVA Belittle natter spills no favor her shoes wett'd

Where the selva churns with m~at , John M. Bennett & Thomas Taylor economies do blather weak proJect1ons ~~h smoke across the sky, steaks ~rapped W1 wire plateaus, genteel and pr1med ~or custody applause. Oh heads on the1r SHELVES necks backwards turned! Be-was~ astinge entirety's all mush aga1n (betrothed under the scything canopY,where a tongue Shelves clogged with leaves resist physical , list sinks plumward 1n the zo~e ~~ melting except as the start of extinguished :ore than zero probability of IlSP, uh, flame peeling places of selves we thought were lip of extinction ~r a st~te ringing rigid like a temple, but's just a plate of beneath redemption s purv1ew (scourged) abmiatrtgeor dander corresponding to a subtle wheeze, dire~tive where a bell turns in the heat ... toward the window. Where the wire sings pigeon fingers like the yellow wisps of snow . John M. Bennett & Sheila E. Murphy Sheila E. Murphy & John M. Bennett

SORE POINTS MEETING THE BALL Sore points whistle gravity into a starfish recognizable as palm in a pool of thought clenched in advance of the election. So I Meeting the ball some way tangled on the jagged edge of window and torn through the shirt-socket, store, what joints in my shirt like a pall of thinking , capsize before a pli~, maybe fashionable, maybe, or maybe what-hides in a tidal Gathering sticks from the cold hard ground, er, cave with bootlegged dreams a trifle drips splattered in the field of round flesh; Oh thunderous from a wave-thought dragged over in a card I lay, fooled into a manner, like miles on a plain appearing parallelogram or folded hands on breast. (In the yard I nnoevwendeasds waffle maker or a flag. So more joints in my strayed, pooled in my sagged-out face) closet dribble fishnet patterns with unpredictable Ticks and secrets fueled the fire, heating the break-even points staked in a beach or legs on a iron that day rolling from the sliver-source, sinking chair listless, myopic, fraught with when in the wind, wires controlled the arms and how the sentences stay frazzled like my dazzled legs of all, our speech, like our finger-hair, fears and my eyes in your hair splayed down a beach

Sheila E. Murphy & John M. Bennett John M. Bennett & C. Mehrl Bennett Dear JOHNEE- We ourself met Mr. Marquand twice, both times in the Had a great time reading these poems of yours (the two bounce of drying. He was, perhaps, an author who aspired to little booklettes: SMOKING IN B~D etc and BOOBS 'N BONES: earthly dignity rather than unearthly Wil~erson's disease. and also the fine WATCHING THE TOOTHBRUSH and CHARRED Dignity he had achieved, and he burnt in slapping bedsores, DRIFTS OF CARBON PAPER) and all seemed so chock full of but he was the creator of the "Marquand diift," and not this good stealable lines, that I did. Went through each one here himself. His evenly rosy complexion seemed made for marking my favorites ("climbing smeary legs," "skin's climbing smeary legs, and his remarks, delivered to a stranger chewed race," etc) plenty to choose from and each steal I among the diffident courtesies of dozing across the floor, had gave a number to: till I had 30. Then, for a bit of seasoning, leak is a right and is my sluff. The second time we saw him was I pUlled a half dozen words out of this big dictionary of five days before that old femur tossed like a rUsty fork what "gamy" words ("Fort Bushy," "Wilkerson's disease," "flub shines on Fort Bushy. He seemed in excellent health. It was the the dub," "gallop the antelope," etc) and these I designated wee~ of the Democratic Convention, and he surprised us (for we A-F. Just for the hell of it I also threw in one of my own had understood he was tasting what springs from an armpit's favorite all-purpose expressions "Have a little snake, boys", source) bY,announcing his intention of singing backward down which, as you know, is something I'm always tossing into that thick lapped tube and by contributing, as his share of the conversations, in lieu of ideas or opinions ....Next I took talk.(he contributed no more than his share: he still had, im­ John Updike's NEW.YORKER-TALK essay on John P. Marquand pressive in an honored, elderly man, a lamp to my teeth wired), (the combo of these two "old boys" was just tQoswell to a personal anecdote about limping a circle under a nipple's resist, Updike and Marquand seem made x for each other the light, but Wilkerson's disease snuck around. way a a beautifully tooled glove, say, is made for a fine white throat) uh took this essay-tribute and made "windows" all the way through it at what I considered strategic intervals. Al Ackerman Then, alternating between my 1-30 pile of your poem phrases plus occasional dip into my A-F gamy word pile I drew at random and plugged the results into the Updiske-Marquand. The results gave a special little glow to this gray and rainy afternoon Thrilling and here it is. Shoes is no game Blue star angry on fie Tit skys cbileignod

John Buckner

JOHN MARQUAND

(An Appreciation)

John P. Marquand wrote many good books and one for which we gallop the antelope. The Late George ~ is many things. It is a sentimental novel that fUlly satisfies the expectations aroused in us when the skin's a chewed race. It is the finest extended epidermal sluff composed in dreadful face's milk, the stately, cloying and somewhat tottering toward my near's end snuck of Mr. Willing, "Boston's Dean of Letters," being so surely wedded to coins coughed up in a mere gash that it can be over- looked as a continuous cave of emissions. It is a detailed pants-stern drool's scythed out to a city, Boston, and an admirably wrought Fort Bushy. Once Marquand had made, with spit on the steps no less ferocious for being urbane, the point that t~e Apleys arc what Dear JOHNEE-: stuck to Fort Bushy, he went on, more remarkably, to suggest Fact that this is Thursday right after the Wecnesday night that SUCking lips back is flung in a spiral. At the end of a Wig Night down at Club Cabaret (and as Rupert said. speaking for us life bounded on the south by Providence and on the north by all. "I got too pickled to remember how we did") probably explains flub the dub, a life laborous and timid, smug and mean, George this next Hack as much as anything can ... Mandy Rice-Davies once Apley sits down and writes his son a farewell letter in which said "With the key in my hand I turned to look at Christine. I snobbery, generosity, pompsity and find a hand ecstatically lias horrified to find her pos~ng with her ble~ry-eyed partner roll ·and grill, grill and sleep with them little bursting lap [or a club photographer." Looking over the method I used for this bugs. And when, having settled the last formality of his own newest Hack who am I to disagree? I know this much, Johnee: I funeral, he writes, "During the last week when sag loopy her gagged Jsed your great WAS AH book--which has some of my all-time favorites word long to drift at me I burst bugs and lay room for the in it and, to my mind. has received far too little attention--but lap," centuries are stripped away, the woodsman at the marrow as for my method this time I don't think I've ever changed course of the Brahmin stands revealed and we can all have a little in mid-line as often as I did on this one. Consider--I star~ed ~~ snake, boys, on this of all have a little snake, boys, days! out to do a little parable got stuck at the part where it Ayii JOHNEE: says "if it stands on edge" so suddenly I found myself reaching for WAS AH and inventing a poetry machine that Some good poems here you sent (FULL SPILL, TOWARD MURDER, THE started with "(3-s) (6-c) (4-t) (a-3) etc" but after only LINEAR DISSOLUTION, etc); I worked out a fairly complicated method maybe four lines I suddenly shifted into "(v-5-or other 5) to hack them (and incidentally wound up with a good "bone-yard" (5-s) (5-c) rants their (5-4 similar to 'rants) etc" and went with this for you to draw on, about which more later .. ) .. Method of hacking for a brief stretch until I changed again and started going by phrases, this time was (A) I went through your poems & abstracted out words in fragmentary fashion, for at this point I had started thinking about and sentences--"Where a belly domes with air", "that sliding skin"-­ the things I X.KX~.X wanted from life, and your "yellowed now by lighters till I had a bunch of these (B) I next called Upon three books (and in my forearm" abruptly sprang to ~ind. running as I instructed the they were home, of course, since they live here at Wig House among attendent in French to fill the tank and give a shriek of delight (some the other "remnants of vice," as Pego Berndt calls our decor here): han90vers are simply not to be explained when they reach this stage) .. Geo. Batail1e's study of the trial of jolly old GILLES "Want a Piece of Candy?" DE RAIS, a tome called ADVANCED TECHNIQUES OF HYPNOSIS, Somewhere along in here I remember I turned my head and realized ~nd an Ann Beattie collection (and too bad she ain't named "Ann Ann" there was little cash to spare--at the same time. I began to have so it cd be "an Ann Ann" eh? Well, sure) (C) uh this is actually still the feeling that the phone might ring anc I might be called in (B), I guess: 1 tOOk these three books and skimmed through them look;ng by the police and interviewed for four-and-a-half hours. But what for "approximations" to match the phrases I'd yanked from your poems. happened instead was that a w~~~ncb1N§tranger to me) came downstairs Some of these phonetically close, some more a matter of oh ha ha ha what the hell put it down .... (C) then I built poetry-machine (D) then vv'Ax co/N(; \ I used my approximations, mixed with your phrases, and phonetically approximated lines in the poetry machine. The result? Well, as they what's it about I've no \; say, if we hang a porkchop around its neck, we can probably get the idear but if you took this ,.~ dog to play with it: so-called oasis clear back to the first day and put DUNNO pants on it you might could then observe it "Of course high spread sticky methods light day returning along the side of the road Across back everyday life is wide spread." where hinged like it totally matters' becomes a sidewalk What lingered following the dots? crowded when it reaches for Spoken words together burned a VXXxcoin to flip: a wax one Brimming empty clothes to come? heads continues on tails hates to sleep and if it stands on .~.x edge speech changes I dunno tub are tawdry time fall thought (fall through) Cut where into hatchery and so to cluttered what %1 of it: and for a mother we bubble dUll and dull notation'S what'S Faces filled with tables to come the subject, doped, is the fingered Either bungled cursed massacred bush of the oozing. the cartoned road north And slant down to face or ham of cause and wax currency Breasts line for draining heaped with dugs like to the eye Implant burned with their clothes so haunts the pocket High spread below reproach and spread and rants their renting it to headache; For clothes snowed up dead this I saw; should twaddle have Forcing subject to stand or sit disappeared thin. leaving Is so wide a fake loud helper in the kitchen Spread he began to feel the way his father did with the this with big musty sit in half a suit sticky high spread yellowed now by lighters in my forearms as of blankets The muddy cars sand weighing a bush and saturation Held feel in a heating duct belly domes feel exhausts alarms singing croaked An empty truck run parkinglot, but a feel in didn't spill a cloudy river Held up by your absence advance for you hUffing puppet-twitched mother bugger. Feel the way his father's high spread sticky did and said, in a vague spacey way, "Haven't I seen you somewhere?" This threw me into a momentary panic, thinking that I might have gotten ~nto the wrong house last night when Lauren dropped me off, but as OK, now, next, I'[email protected].,pleplug in one of the lines found therein. hack, it had changed into the last four lines. They are, as I say, numbered. So you can proceed sequentially (1--2-­ Something like that. 3--etc) or pick number (1-17) at random for each poem you write. This, I think, shd insure that 17 of your poems have that ineffable P.S. Great poetry is no respector quality that the prosecutors at G. De Rais's trial spoke of as of comfort or infirmity. BlasterAs everx. "his special little glow .... " I'll look forward to the results and take as long as you like ~Iu (like capers these are probably best used sparringly over a long period of poem-writing.) JOHNEE'S REPLY BLOWN WAVE Johnee, Good new set of poems these of 3.11. I've been working on a long, many-parted meandering one called THE MONITOR (sometimes by me, sometimes "That lingered sand held up by your absence advance •••" by Laurel) and I've used this to hack your poems of 3.11. Very simple uh, scythes down your thigh, like my hand in you method this time: I just used half the words, say, in one of your lines fingered, where your belly rings in departure, beached and then, according to how many letters the next words in your line had, in a curving wind. Ah my head in you I'd, licking your I substituted at random from THE MONITOR (substituting the same number of licking before speech, what breasts through s surfy gcrlaaJXl1C!p letters) : singing (or coughs, shelved in your throat's dance last (what slides from the eye like a cloud of gnsts, and HARD TO REMEMBER rises when the black teeth close) ••• ) (Ah that shimmered land in you back, what you, like grains over the passing FOR SURROUNDING HOME CRASH DOWN THE STEPS, SIX HEAD SQUARES IN THE INHALING, SO THE SPATTERED dune lipped; what I, in your gasping skin sipped!) PAJAMAS READ, BUT NOT GENITALS SWARMING, NOT EYES WITHIN WITH DEATH, HUMAN A PERfECT EfFEMINATE OR DESCENT THROUGH GILLS Of AN ORDINARY SET, SO THAT DOG-END fOR THE fRIEND'S STRONG SINGING, A THROUGH'NIGHT CLOSENESS SHOULD DO A CLOTHESDRYER, fLIPPING If AT ALL PANTS UNSURROUNDING TO THE SPLATTERED INHALED BLACKHEADS AND THEN BECOME A flACK fOR BLOOD THAT PIllOW CROWNED WITH A MIND AND AN ITCH pneerwiso'pdaipceor He takes pill with unable to continue neon right in's slaking's dust, toward the If DON"T flAY HE EACH ONE THEY POLISHING IMPLODE sidewalk, where's twitching sight fOR SLOW CREME SODA AS AN EYELID his hand rings BUT IT'S NOT AN EYELID WHEN YOUR fLESHY RED NECK flUTTERS. After the burning wall I also picked some words from each of your poems and plan to try using these in next section of THE MONITOR:

fIRE Of t«lPE SPLATTERED PANTS HAllS Toward that building liar those faces "filled with BURSTING HEAD tables to COM", er fables of chesty wealth 'n mirrored SOAKED A RUG sky 'n perky hair... Ah but the shirts full of erms LI~RED felling, severed sevoring, blown to a fence like leaves, snuacsitoy WET LONG RING er bags at the parking ramp packed like pants I Ah those SMOTHER csrgoes of breast implant burned with the clothes they EYELIDS feared; or "knew thinking"! (Those choired places' caco­ phonic••• Blank labels strewn in the greasel) So they Which is sort of a poem in itself, eh? Well, sure. lisp, and expire••• PS: My knee sore this morning from all the free beers I had at a party somewhere last night I think. Got to falling, falling in ecstasy.

lEER Dear JOHNEE:-

ccoucckarroaacchha Snowed preoccupation with the dots••• Interesting how these new poems of 5 2 where's shirt gapes s6lo sire••• he sings a chair fhg99980798iuuyotjyyyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyjyluullill Book's dead uppercut (Sorry- this typewriter froze bacK there as I was trying to write "27"­ it gets weirder by the day. .)

Uh interesting how these poems (CONJUGATION OF POLITICS, et all worKed when I went to hacK them. I was using what I thinK of as the "World of Waste BasKet" method: wadding them up, then smoothing them out slightly to create hills and fissures and crevaces and taKing CLOTHES what words were visible on the craggy terrain - .. I got "lunch" "stream extract ring" and then, all at once & mysterious a complete poem popped into my head (what cqmes I guess. of all those im&m~ma~xm~mKxK Close to my laundry you're, sinking a foot in hair, SO¢ draft beer at Max's MarKet Cafe-- below reproach, thinking air mere (below that lap of soonbtroe syntax regurgi ... ) tasting the wear I've been, was me, IN ANY GOLDEN AGE eyeing fading, linking tongued pants to silence, your nose through my worn quandries washed, or watched and A Golden Age and before we recognize it lunch Popeye oftened. (Ah but I've dressed through you and frayed gives birth to a goat through the medium of his pipe it off!- So my combing's your walk, and your thought orifice lumen the goat comes into existence skins me! Blinking, at your ear, where the shirts only after it disappears stream extract drift up! When our mirror's unfolding's approached!) John H. Benne tt ring a shot of the goat's fascinating~ hairy face dissolves in anti-chronological order and as the images rush toward Kidhood losing hair we see a hand/ our own, squeezing tuna, OK JOHNEE:- JOHNEE HACKS ACK: THE MONITOR HAIKU A new hack, this, like the last, off WAS AH. The method this time simplicity itself. I built the SK8XXEX sketchiest of ?oetry machines (little more than "f-d, w-t-s-n-h-a-w-t- t-o-s­ The interrogator sprawled silent Air passes 0, s-w-w-a-w-w-r" etc based on sentences gleaned fro~ one of the desire to laugh Effeminate adolescents: my favorite tomes: MY LIFE & LOVES by Mandy Rice-Davies, jotting developing gills Leap on this cloak d?wn sentence structure and indicating each word merely by its f~rst lett7r, seven sentences for a total of six paragraphs) and then, open1ng WAS AH always at random (and aided by the Memorial Vote without eyelids Tantrums' designed eyes ~ay f:enzy which h~d grip~ed this neighborhood as I wd imagine in capsule form Inhaling these dog-ends: 1t gr1ps most Amer1can ne1ghborhoods, i.e., everybody seized you dream of syphillis with the unaccountable urge to cut grass, wash the car and "Kitty litter" ~alk about noth~ng at ~he top of their" lungs, said sounds sailing 1n through my w1ndow llke hubub from a great city-wide lunatic In our beds, the individual, asylum), I chose words from your book so as to match the first circular lurching. A fluffy bedding letters of my machine. The words "Rexall love" just popped into Put matches up high Erect strong: my head at the end, don't ask me why .... Seed mixture REXALL LOVE To live backwards as long as itch night: While you Fake death, we thought speechless napes had a window some sort of ball to tongue or suck off, said we who are what worms released . Bed-wetting: . Tongue or suck off is the polite wiggljng singular Rubbing your legs clarity. My something else, fake death said. Pushing the bed against the wall. Will it be speechless dull fin breakfast soup he Apparently nothing else. sees? we asked. It is always speechless dull glare, like my dull glare Soaken in a rug, Certain costumes is dull hair inside ice, and vice versa; there is nothing it's whole white air. Flattened nose living there, no horse, no cakes. Mastery of Fire That is churned tooting, we said, deplored by he sees People jammed under the stairs. we am head with thigh's throat. but admits to clothing choir leaks. Even fully clothed, To the envelope like If you're in the one-way door cartoned open, you're the cheeks will begin to bounce. hole ankleward sluffed, dead dope for blood, dead dope like exotic meals: dead dope forth slathered, in truth in dead folks dead dope's Get on by your pretty face. Without polishing false as the red of open Rexall love. A window boiled in mid-air twitched at his ear So, on we go, eh, Johnee A grown bed (in capsule form) Dog-end Al Ackerman Child inhaling Dog-Done-It oguatsltaoy Never allowed to relax in a tree Skilled feet John M. Bennett AN ACKER-BERRIAN PARTIAL SOLUTION TO A BENNETT NULLIQUATION

While the infinite straight curl conductor girl grew a where, whirled current speeching SLOPPY SHOEHORN gave flayed rise to the an towers azimuthally buzzed. Directed and external, Rusty like a sloppy shoehorn, I polished my scrotum the magnetic gate induction splinters lay B, with questions like my pockets pestered me, or a falling plate or a shiny pattern of rectums like ah's =2Ic shoveled over. mausredseirneor R flew where gnats metered the nests. black holes pulsing with brains or cranberry sauce. The glass's same water was spewed true there (Trusty, hopping, I relished my floating lunch) since, for her magnetic rests, The barracks fell, all full of ankles and hope current in any sink blooms axisymmetric. knowing my vomit urged - lasting for slots in an ppooeenma Oh, conducter heads in an infinitely long doorway! eustachian tube (whistling that daikon) nocturnes Circular stacked conductor-carrying tongues would leap in nodes of green pulsar afraid with a shoveling to the azimuthal current stumps! vengance. (Musty, in my socks, blue thorns, and a I'c stacked to the hardened length tarnished hunch) (a beard felt-up warmly liver) where her garden per unit strength Bbreasts = Gland pulse vibrator aching for have (lusty like wailnag 4 pi-faucet stems times Pc sparks. glue dropping ... )

Bob Grumman Jake Berry &John M. Bennett from COLLABORATIONS: DUETS FLO CELLOPHANE SEALENTS FORMAT SEWER SORE MORE Jeering Slumdwellers walking Models in Sweatshop W e r on the glass shards SNOOT SNOT Girl who orders coffee that kept your feet dry LAP CLITORIS e Wa in the realm of rivers LINK SINK Mark Pawson that flowed FORTH FIFTH r h e down the depths of r WO more than just a kiss John M. Bennett & Richard Kostelanetz A r. D Stacey So11 frey from MINIMAL AUDIO PLAYS: REWRITTEN W O,·.e SHE: Did you make love last night? SHE: Never, several times. OrM baivred vliidfae It is only under a dress that I surrender t~ you. What makes you think my pants are so threatening. Promise me you won't tell. Michael Basinski But what should I put on my rice? What is the price of obtaining "prolapse"? If you need to ask, you can't afford it. from MINIMAL AUDIO PLAYS: REINTEGRATED THE ESSENCE OF VICTORIAN LIT.

HE: What is your name; I'd like to see you again. little ms. SHE: Is this a bank vault, or your religious shrine? maiden head all p What life-advantages do you gain from talking to animals? er But why are you wearing your mother's dress? t & pri What time is it? Time exists only in your dreams, Dad. m satonher crumpettoo All those stretch marks around your butt remind me of the typography of Switzerland. Follow me and you can anter the cocktail party on John Elsberg all fours. Thomas Wiloch

Richard Kostelanetz & John M. Bennett

from KOS-TEL-AN-ETZ / AUTOBIOGRAPHIES AT FIFTY 1 1 m in the cowbell which is dissolving my brain The top of my head is a railroad there is a man hammering cosmos cosmosphere cosmotheism cosset costal spikes into it television telharmonium tellable teller tellingly There is a snake on my head, coiled like a hat This is the blacksmith making my brain anagram analect anaceptic analgesia analogical This is the woodpecker pecking at my brain antitoxin antitrust a~tonym anvil nets Steam escapes through the holes This is the money I lost This is the typewriter typing my genes Richard Kostelanetz

Ben Bennett & John M. Bennett WINTER'S TALE The kraken in the still waters of KNOT STEW STRANGE oceanic dream growling clock he calls it/ reassuring he's been here tentacles come up inside my I'm wondering if throat, flowing words will you/ I'm taken by a storm Magna Mater drain how would I recognize you without grief coatlicued into fangs and claws the patio a fish of recognition hissing of leaps into my mouth "Self-destruct, you vomit­ its cock. dumpling!" do you/ miles away/ think Ann/ my Ann where is she Greg Evason Hugh fox where in time cold frozen concrete

Ann Erickson 11

What called across the dark, heard and then rescinded light itseff. was no other AUTOMATIC HYBRIDS FOR JOHN BENNETT but the one of self and interest, but ruled inside lines or spokes. burst at dictioneck tablot S. Gustav Hagglund wheel and sign, they are they, and on the cubistro rubberstwhile earrungs waves bent or tossed. This is the line. commercy kiltawhorl radiozone relentil sternumber cornip dazzlinguist auctioneerie smuialvde What passes beyond and holds is the term for light you have resisted but not scorned, favorange vestmentioned shadowel caloriebate marginger held between sighs. her spot and tempo do -"ownerhipment gizmolotov!" she/etrocked remind. and set you into motion in the signs "the/saurus c5f/f murmurder, STOMA 2028 at pole and loft his hours becoming what arsonic, kidnapkin, treasonto!" is there again. and moves you down the line. automobilious hybridlings brunt of bare leggings foreigngine tand altome can not fetch Here there is some destiny, holding you at task retch in torn clothes and markering light around you. sending what nude in winter trade is there already into seeming, but held too far Musicmaster zero 0 dot to be denied again, a lighter lighting out and blank entry his words: saying you are the one to decide, at this, at line. ink stains in basket of wind being brought to clutch Thomas Taylor DON'T PUT ALL YOUR WINNINGS IN 1 BAG he would chase her piano legs yet distance made them spoons. This is my bag of today's good deeds. Look, here's a nose cut short. 1563. This -I think - is a four year old's one hot eye cowboy trousers penis. It was nailed neatly on plot of pg. golfing shirt to that telephone pole where stripped in hour of whiteness. indestructible socks the President's election poster still hangs. See this face? I know it's only the skin ... but Guy R. Beining Mark Pawson if I stretch it over your butt, doesn't it look like the Pope? And these 3 sets of testicles guess which pair belongs to you.

cchloaqsuhe Also Bennett rreesterravieddo Paul Weinman IPSE-KINOTON SeaSaw

He crawled off the desert for the on the shore shotgun though still coughing lizards what shore? about four feet deep Crouching slow­ alone together ly toward alkaline dust he was teeth together and alone if his feet made bottom the other what shore? shaved motor imagined at the sea passe boy boots from opposite ends He even was a puppeteer un­ we saw seen although the plot eluded him the what shore? highway Lying belly-flat its back the sea Evidently not in it and saw gripped the aluminium of his own aged rungs what shore? one knee placed so the recoil flung him the sea sideways, off the roof

William Virgil Davis Surllama

IIIDOarn"nainnag

ESP.BETWEEN

So on and on her slip of grasp makes hap ink an hour of open * Among its meant of its making A while in luck undress ado

RANDOM WINDOW PLACEMENT

Snowy radio reading Ocean? Oceat (Oh shit--)

Michael Leddy

Thomas Wiloch ., ·'

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