Martha L Deed –– North Tonawanda, NY

Ohboyohboyohboy letmethink somethingnotwhatitseems? Basinski’s entrails so visual so how

can it ever be spoken then i heard him do it funfunfun notnearlyasdifficulttocomprehendasitseems
willthisdo Ihope or will I have to cough up four bucks -- and I know you both deserve it -- to get in on
the conversation?

Cyrill Duneau –– Dublin Ireland

The truth is not as it seems. need i explain?

Paul Arnaud Brandt––Hallowell, ME

There is a sheet that hangs on my wall that containing various scenes from “The Smurfs,” a popular
cartoon from the 1980s. Upon first glance it seems that there is only one scene repeating again and
again to make up the entire decoration of this fine sheet. Yet upon further inspection I noticed an
entirely new scene, then another, and yet another until I realized that there were in fact four scenes
displayed on the sheet. This being the first instance of something that is not as it seems, and being
quite intrigued other potential oversights, I proceeded with further investigation. It was within one of
these scenes that I noticed yet another deception. In this scene there are approximately ten smurfs
running around doing various activities in their little smurf village. One of the smurfs is running
through a finish line. It seems to be very exciting and the smurf is in obvious elation but upon further
scrutiny I realize that there are no other smurfs racing. This smurf is not really in a race and is not
really winning one either (the sign above the finish line simply says “SMURF” nothing like “FINISH”
or “TODAY’S BIG RACE”).

ric royer––baltimore md
I dont know if this counts, but here is an entire online museum of things that do not appear as they
seem. http://www.mishaptic.com/museum/index.html
fake rats, corn inside of banana peels...

Deborah Poe––Johnson City, NY

Auto-erotica, or poetry writing, is not impossible while driving at 70mph down a dark road.

ross priddle––Medicine Hat, CANADA

well, this seems as good a time as any to confess that i’m actually one of al ackerman’s
pseudonyms.... well, no, just kidding...

Joel Lipman––Toledo, OH
“Hello,” as squawked by Roberto, our parrot.

Allan Revich––Toronto, ONTARIO, CANADA

When I was a boy I had a long-sleeved T-shirt that looked like a tuxedo jacket from a distance. Really
it was just a T-shirt. It was not as it seemed. Later on, when I got a bit older, I had an aquarium with
a lion fish in it. The lion fish ate goldfish. He seemed to be the king of his domain. But he got sick
and died. He was not as he seemed. A few years after that I moved to Israel and joined the army
because it seemed to be a heroic thing for an idealistic Jewish lad to do. I was just another young
guy being told what to do by a bunch of other guys, only unlike my other jobs, I could get arrested
for quitting that job. It was not what it seemed.

Nick Potter––Fitzroy, Victoria, Australia

The Moon seems larger when it’s close to the horizon, but in fact it is
just as large when it is overhead. This is an optical illusion.

Geof Huth––Schenectady, NY
A glass of milk that ends up containing soy squeezings. (Alone among those in my family, I love
those soy squeezings.)
Skip Fox––Sunset, LA
What’s a blog, but someone yakking all the time in the near distance? An insane convenience store
of the blubbery self, 24-7. Never sleeps. Someday in the near future, we’ll pay to have these run
beyond the limits of our lives, that way we’ll never have to think. Not even when we’re dead.

or this?

On rap and social responsibility: Did Homer worry that he might weave a melancholic masculinity
into the fabric of our culture? Is Achilles Hamlet? Does Hector’s braggadocio echo in the shouts of
Outkast?

or:

Virginity Through Death! (a sticka’! Or a sash to drape around the tulips that you send to Plath after
she had her appendix out. A little gag.)

nearly almost virtual in resemblence to identity

You think it’s easy to die? Try breaking a freefall by flapping your arms.

She’s as close to virtual as you can get in person

“Killing time.” Murder most foul.

or:

one and only

One is the most even of numbers. Nearly all odd numbers are incomplete, awaiting the addition or
subtraction of another odd number to come into their own, themselves at last: stable, entire. The
sole exception is one which is more complete, more contained even than even numbers, so called,
which, lacking a notion (condition) of the whole, the solely singular for the singleness, are destined
to fragment and decay. One, the most even & inseparable of numbers, the definite article, will outlast
them all. Surely it must be so.

Séamas Cain––Cloquet, Minnesota

In Duluth, Minnesota, we have a two-years on-going controversy about the St. Louis County
Historical Society. You would think that an Historical Society is simply what it seems, an Historical
Society. However, in Duluth, the Historical Society has proven to be a cover for crime and the
cover-up of crime. The major right-wing Republicans in the county - supporters of Bush et al - are
involved in this swamp. The daily-newspaper in Duluth, the Duluth NEWS-TRIBUNE, has published
five page-long editorials plus other lengthy news-articles since February calling for exposure. The
Attorney-General of the state is conducting an investigation. Nevertheless, the crooks struggle on
- with considerable sums of public money in their paws.

So, an Historical Society is not necessarily an Historical Society. In Duluth, the struggle of history
has become the struggle for history!

For more information, please check the web-site at <http://www.freewebs.com/historians>.

David Baratier––Columbus OH
JS Murnet is a psuedonym of two writers. How’s that?

Henrike Lichtenberg––Berlin, FRG

For instance, summer seems to have been cancelled, but it’s probably just happening elswhere.
Ann Bogle––Minnetonka, MN
Something that is not as it seems could be concrete (best) or abstract, such as -- “fiction is boring”
-- proof that fiction is not as boring as it seems: Ronald Sukenick’s MOSAIC MAN (1999). Proof: p.
113, “Ron knows that Marta had been interned for many weeks after the military coup and when
released had been fired from her job as a journalist. She then found her current job as a writer for
an obscure veterinary magazine which has suddenly developed an allegorical level in the manner
of George Orwell, along with a new audience.” I opened to that page randomly. Anyone could do
that, open to a page randomly and find a passage in the book worth quoting, or considering; the
CONTENTS page, for example: I. TESTIMONY: GENES, EX/ODE, UMBILICUS, NUMBERS (The Old
Country, First Kinks, The Virus, The Golden Calf, Book of Daisy, How To Be Jewish), AUTONOMY
(Is It Good for the Jews?, Jersusalem, Ghost Ghetto, After the Fact). II: WRITING: PROFITS,
HAND WRITING ON THE WALL. He really milchs the dialectal sounds of a few ethnic sets in the
book, a hearingness I really love and admire about his work; and he invented new conventions for
quotation that make total sense to me as a reader and as a practitioner (someone who uses fiction
conventions) that are not merely new for newness’ sake alone or unconventional just to break with
convention, but practical improvements. I believe in something I call fiction attribution -- tipping
the hat in such a way to let the reader know that I am acknowledging someone else’s (in this case)
innovative technique. His technique in the dialogue there is so unique, I probably wouldn’t try to use
it myself, but I think it should be used, and acknowledged. Ron Sukenick died on Thursday after a
long illness. The NYTimes carries a fairly long obituary in today’s paper. He was a Good.

Derek White––New York, NY 10019

... the “upswing” in the economy is not what it seems (to me)? Devo finishing a rainy set in central
park with “A Beautiful World”? The world? This email (holding my computer out the window)? Your
email? ...

Kevin Thurston––Baltimore, MD
The sexuality of karen eliot, eh eh eh.

Pete Balestrieri––Iowa City, IA

I often get upset about something or someone and then act/speak about it. Then I realize I was
mistaken or overreacted. This has led me to the saying, “First, they’re the jerk, then you’re the jerk.”
But really, I honestly believe that nothing is as it seems. And nothing is just one thing. Everything is
layered. But I’m betting you wanted something more specific. OK. Durian fruit. It smells like a diaper
pail and tastes like smoky, rich custard.

id m tHFFT AYBLE––Windham, ME
oh,shoot,
what immediately came to mind
(as something not as it seems)
was:
a barnacle

Bob Grumman–– Port Charlotte, FL

Hey, your bringing up E.n.t.r.a.n.c.e.d reminds me to tell you, Miekal, that
I can’t think of ANYTHING that isn’t just as it seems to me! Really. I
even think the two clowns running for president are every bit as dumb as
they seem!

endwar––Athens, OH
Here’s my entry, which appears to be an email response to your question but is actually an attempt
to score a free book. Sort of a human engineered trojan horse email. The trojan horse being the
paradigm of things not as they seem. At least i’m not offering you a reduced rate on your mortgage
or dubious body part enhancements.
Nico Vassilakis, Seattle, WA
the other day
while staring

a nob’s a blob
the water’s a daughter

floating dust
in the aqueous eye

squinting
the streetlight is molecular

sound the monster

becomes sound the wind

sudden nervous alerts

peripheral creature

given alittle time

nothing seems to be

or C or D or enough
of what it is

is always other
constant simultan....us

nice blanket
nice summer day

even ending now

wont stay fixed

Alan Sondheim––Brooklyn,NY
the world (for Miekal And)

the world is _precisely_ as it seems, although for centuries it has been

considered an illusion, or the imprint of the limited bandwidth of our
sensorium. in other words, it’s seemed as if it were fictive, but now this
fictivity itself is in question. instead, wysiwyg - what you see is what
you get; this is true for the universe as well. there are no spirits,
hidden crevices, gods or goddesses, no souls, afterlives, heavens or
hells: there is precisely what one sees. we are embedded in it; we are
part and parcel of it; there is naught else. the world seems to be all
there is, and it is precisely that. it is describable, inert, mute, moot,
encompassing; we are of the world, which is not of us. for the world is
greater by far; we are among its accidents, its sports, its momentary
heuristics tending nowhere in particular. it is illusion that the world is
illusory; it is false that the world is false. there are no veils, no
secrets.

Carlos Luis––Miami, FL
but when the tangle
rip the seams
despite what it seems
noli me tangere
Lanny Quarles––Portland, OR
While it may seem like I’m the dashing arsliterary outlaw Great Skull Zero Tornado Betel Nut
Phosgene Lithop Toenail Face-Mask Head, I’m rilly jus a humble sow’s ear diggin’ in a burlap sack
of bones inscribed with GorGaRuneglyphs whose age and meaning are so ancient and irresolutely
paradoxical they dwarf my entire existence so as to make it a nanofemtopicosecond close-up
shot of a piece of striated blue heliobsidian ‘indian corn’ falling from the grinding jaws of the great
celestial raccoon as it stands surfing upon one of the undulating segmentalia of colossogorgantic q
uantoencyclocentipediatron’s infinitely long whisker-palping compressed universe ganglia-waveform
bait dangling alternate reality pheromone temporal-lung-book extension units..

Joe Keenan––Buffalo, NY
In any case, as is my wont, i stepped outside to have a smoke before returning to my station and
was pleased to note that all was indeed precisely as it seemed. the moon was dented and bright
and centered above the bright lights of the stadium like a diamond set in a bed of lesser stones. the
grove in the heart of division was exactly that and also glowed in the halos of her streetlamps. on the
concrete face of the parking ramp across the street, arrows pointing down toward an opening, black
letters backlit in blue : TER

i think i know what you’re up to, but i have to say, alan’s world text was like a weight off my
shoulders. i think i sighed out loud with relief and am not ready to let that go yet.

Reed Altemus––Portland, ME
I’m not gonna be clever about this because I think the truth is more interesting. For a long time
during my thirties I entertained the idea that a career as a librarian made sense. The whole affinity
with books etc. but I finally realized that this was something that I had misread in life and in fact I
don’t have the personality type for librarianship. Take a perfectly good bookworm and REMOVE
HIS/HER SPINE and what you get is a librarian. Most librarians aren’t cranky lumpen intellectual
types who thrive on the esoteric and even marginal. Librarians are there to make sure that people are
reading what they’re supposed to be reading. I don’t mean to be derogatory but it’s the truth. So, my
fate to be a librarian was a misapprehension in fact librarianship IN REAL LIFE was nothing like what
I had imagined it to be. Not what it seemed etc.

Irving Weiss––Chestertown, MD
John Lowther––Atlanta GA
Language: it seems an extension of us needs but turns against us, once out of the mouth.

David-Baptiste Chirot––Milwaukee, WI
These seams don’t seem
the same as some
at the same sum.

Nancy Burr––Seattle, WA
it is not seemly
to tear the seams
unravel the stitches
to reveal the meaning
lost in the tangles

Bruce Andrews––New York, NY

READING & WRITING
-- for And

Writing is not, as it seems, writing;

writing is reading, is all
about reading
which
is, also, not
as it seems.

Sheila Murphy––Phoenix, AZ

Michael Helsem––Dallas, TX
The Nacreous Oughts
http://springtail.blogspot.com
is not as it seems.
Chris Funkhouser––Allamuchy, NJ
to the unglassed eye it snows here all july
despite the green, despite the heat
dem buggersome poplars just keep sending
fuzzy flakes across the view through windowpanes
in various pools of water sprouts sprouts sprouts
to the near-sighted eye tis winter twisted into color...

Crag Hill––Moscow, ID
but when the tingle
rips the sums
despite what it seems
noli me lingerie

Joel Kuzai––Ithaca, NY
the age of the earth is not as it seems.

Madawg
I dont know about doing all that other stuff but I acquired a lightning rod and then I started doing
paintings of lightning then I saw a painting of lightning in a thrift store-I acquired that too. Next I
found a picture from the 30’s of a dog named Lightning the Wonder Dog. The dog was leaping off a
pier into the water. Then I found a small cedar box with a picture of Dogwood on it and I realized that
yes-Dawg would. So I put the picture of Lightning the Wonder Dog inside of it.
P.S. I spelled lightning wrong every time in this paragraph, but then I corrected it.
PPS- yes I have no idea where all of this is going.

d.a. levy––Cleveland, OH
Our concrete poems are written to urify our minds and Intestines of all western sophisticated
hypocracy apathetic impotent outrages racist-mindfucking white supremacy dung / to liberate
ourselves from the decay of the passive dainty assfuck culture of art patrons / to save ourselves
from being enshrined with the other saints martyrs & heros of The Muck such as Jesus, Nixon, the
pope, president johnson, billy grahamcrackers, the american ‘deep image’ poets, Dali, wyeth, Walt
Disney, & the princes of distortion (the newspaper reporters).

mimeographed in an edition of 50 by

Seven Flowers Press

East Cleveland, OH
1966