mi•me•ot•i

x
An Electronic Mimeozine of
Experimental Poetry

1
 Issue One
Spring 2010

mi•me•ot•ix
Table of Contents
Poems by Sheila E. Murphy
Sotto
Voce . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
..................3
Pause . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5
Fallen Stalks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.......................6
Play
Through . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
....................7
Poems by Amy Dupcak
remains… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
........................8
Aroma. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .10
Chronic
State . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .11

2
Quick . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .14
For the
Doctor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .17
Poems by John M. Bennett
draeg &
fhog . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
boane &
norr . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .19
runk &
thurds . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .20
YAXCHE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .21
CORONA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
Bios. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .23
Notes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24
Sotto Voce
When you told me to stop snoring, I replied that I already had.
An echo in my psyche prompts beneficent neglect. Once you interrupt my
heart, it takes inventory of itself, yourself, myself . . .
The unlisted status of intentions prompts my notice of an absent flower’s
seasonal indulgence. I pet my history, and flex my memory to match.
The old town feel of innocence resurges so that relatives and friends can
find me in a scope.
The scope of hillside interrupts the center of retention.

3
“I saw you when I touched the play button on my corresponding point of
reach.” The land is handsome, or it fastens me to plaster of “Paree.”
Minding manners means an overload of arch conspiracy. How many
fireplaces does it take to need a built-in bookshelf?
Sky’s the limitation we can veer toward to grill, to grieve, to grind to halting
status.
On the opposite side, I memorize my small world view, “huge closet.” Stifle
yourself, said the incumbent patriarch.
Lose the weeds in your square garden. Gamble your lifeline, traipse along
the seashore, render under chefs requisite anger to wield instruments that
frost.
In another lifetime, one of us retained Cleveland in a mental state to be
dismissed, allowing for no place to go away once the dismissal had begun.
”I think I need some time.” How do you interrupt the flow you have invested
in, without growing (accustomed to another yield”?
My soul requires a sense of grasp. My lore befalls bed rest. “Sweet baby,”
you replied. “I used to order hot roast beef, covered over with dark gravy,
and a side of mashed potatoes.”
I have honored how you lived throughout my days. I hear your story, then I
breathe however you pronounce it. I discern your fragrance that infuses
every moment of the distance between sadness and opacity.
Things grow clear when I relax my worry. Features start to equal benefits.
“Did you notice the vast acreage?”
Warmth connotes containment. When you ask yourself about my
inclination, I can offer a full view of speech and sentiment.
Maybe there are moments to reframe our sentence structure to ensure a
lifeline for the dots yet unconnected. Will a world become reflexive line of
sight, or will the overtones be minutes in a string of how one works to feel
the plot become absorbed away
[Shift of emphasis when I turn over to complete the dream of voice
belonging to twin lives still shared across]

4
 Pause
Quiet again.
Close to heartbeat
with eyes closed,
rhythm turning melody.
Wildflower season, February.
Thin limbs hold tiny flowers

5
 peaceably at roadside,
the lilt of fresh breath
sweetened daylight
offers threads of light.
There is softness in perceiving
first things late,
the body less inclined
to shout itself into supremacy.
Stillness seen, washed to self.
Each daylight, gift,
one moment at a time.
The only matrimony enlists
the channel life is on
to match silence.
Now a delicate rejoinder
to the teeming rain.
Lifeline, a gut string
brushed to its harmonic.

Fallen Stalks
Lottery loyalty frames me. Give us this (dram) light, our daily
happenstance. As we forgive loco-maturation off the cuff links of contrario.
All pepper shaken across whole containment. Beltway canteen lacks
nascent streams. Want to overtake the mood of the majority? For sale: one
used life, still gentle. Overcast delirium repeats ourselves. “This is my
cadre.” Sample size a case of smiles. People have begun to hurt the
confluence of rude plain spokes. What comma fallen comes to be
immediate blitz of correspondence (matter of course). Blasphemy alerts us
to a moon. Look up when we were dormant. Whine and whimper, buried in
the fine print was the single good idea. I have loved the skeins of salt where
feeble spindles traded folk. I want to dry my room when rains approach. I

6
want to notify the desert of an opportunity to acquire lanes for de facto
walking. Chapped licks, north upon the storage shed. The various
immersion strikes mean deeper than a blouse. A wave, a waiver, ruffian
incumbency. Whom do you determine trust can be made altogether
offspring in a merchant’s house. A macular degeneration noticed upon
firelight. Symptoms of raised rates, reproduction, actuarial infiltration, once
or more.
Lip sync mainstay in a bundle of détente when windows have been false
against the stains

Play Through
Sequester free time (with
Flotilla of fresh flowers meant to be
Tenacity (hushed tincture
With threnody or
“Husbandry” (along terrain
Concomitant entreaty
Timing as nuisance variable (all alone
In wooded patch
In capsule form (thought

7
 Strapped to waylaid pilgrims
Versus (overflow
Amounting to an undertaking no one
Underage (and over-armed
Can cancel “do you ready me”
To rapt enclosure (Can I
Posture, pasture, preach
To your opinion (do you
Correspond with ease
Do your own (launder
Recency and
Strategies (exemplified by
Commendable with
Capsized frames (now empty

Sheila E. Murphy

remains…
asymmetric eyes, world-wind theory,
FDA puppets on TV...

I suck and suck

'til I'm too tired for much, but
(re)recording. (what a cheat!);

martyrdom
in Spain, sound wave therapy;
UFOS in paintings, Jonah and his tree...

I bleed and bleed

internally…it’s never enough for the X-ray machine.

[Jupiter houses

8
one thousand orange earths,
three in his acidic storm.]

I whine
and whine
'til he watches me; dry mouthed. faking.

"oh! I cannot curse it away!"

cannot (re)learn to eat.
radio beams shadows;
(shadows of birds).

and "oh, stop being wallow-y";

gravity pulls the rainbowed-
stream, down my distanced leg.

I need
and need:
an exorcism? altruism? sitcoms. sex. east
Asian medicine; cure the symbolic rock in my right kidney?

fuck: another
ambulance, needle, unanswered sigh;
"push for emergency" ride, et cetera...

okay, it’s easy.

I'm too old (or too young)
for latex gloves.

[tennis balls, like balance beams, forget

diet Coke, forget New York City.]

"please, stop breathing, hummingbird" but

water sits idly. air drips nimbly
through cluttered tunnels
and goose-bumped bone.

I die and die

dramatically, flailing in allergic skin:
no poetry, no aspirin, no
peptic pink solution.

9
we are elevator conversing;
(infomercial sunrise) ex, oh
and "oh, we’re wasting..."

(a bullet breaking sound –)

“brain time;"
I’ve got tissues, anti-epileptics, beeswax chapstick and
pills pills pills ...

I lie
and I lie a little more, and
beg for ways to

[break me ?
meaning: distract me tenfold?]

ignore;
doors fall open when I sleep.

Aroma.
sink
into a shrinking body :
stale water trapped in drain pipes
during an august drought;
California?

I find myself
tipped into
old trends,
unintended-ly;

I tap
the keys – my fingerprint
paddles; or little

10
piano-key hammers. I cheat
at everything;
fuck where I sleep
eat where I run, &
don’t get me started on narcissism :
I voyeur my collarbones’ shape.

come,
I’ve forgotten to focus my astigmatism;
these jeans smell ,
the stray rain.

I’m
rather easy to please
use words, &
objects that cram oxygen;
Plath wrote of balloons
because they hover,
or die silently wheezing? I
write of balloons
in envy – prisms,
(spectral!)
white glean light.

∙∙∙

Chronic State
As the barometric pressure
drops
(into my lap), a runaway balloon

11
traps
itself
in the confines of my cranium.

Oddly, the
atmosphere
is quite hospitable
[somewhere]
between vascular network
and bone.

And, when you first

catch sight
(of me)
blind
yet again, you might see
inside
the confines
of this conic indecision.

Oddly enough,
colors and
caffeine
didn’t used to erupt
[somewhere]
behind nerve cell
and spine.

And, as the prophet may

speak

12
(to the sinners), my terrified pulse
leaps:
vertigo’d convulsion
in the confines
of an artery.

Oddly,
I can predict
the weather now,
static
[somewhere]
between sky and tree
cordially zip-zaps
vertical synapses

And, as you
catch your
last
little cold, (or breath)
I’ll be the first girl to
carve
feeble names
into stone, or step,
in the confines
of the unforeseen.

13
 Quick
do I get bonus points
for a bigger mess,
a blatant cry
or a blaring fuck you?
how’s about some old fashioned
masochism
for good measure?

(fold the napkins

into swans and
call it creation)

14
my oh my
mistakes exist
in capsules or tablet
form, lost under my bed,
I’ll absorb
your free-radicals
as payback

hey, double-check
the facts, first –
antibiotics
might nauseate,
triptans might convolute
an already cluttered brain
(or backseat)

certainly,
codeine will sleep deprive
after lucid dreaming,
vivactil
will muck it up
(you basket case!)

me? I’m used

to feeling –
attempts to
fascinate
and enlighten: I’ll
dis-collect every penny spent
on the quick fix

15
(sit still and hold
your breath until
the choking kicks in)

hey,
they were only trying
to help that
same old pain (in the head), and
antigens might re-close
dismembered parts

instead, bodies, baby,

drum-roll and
deep-sea-dive
(into oncoming trains) / either way,
your tactile gut
will soften up

(real nice)

my deepest dis-
regards,
regrets and dis-
illusions for time and money mis-
spent and ailments mis-diagnosed
(all wrong!)

when side effects take hold,

you might find yourself sunken

16
 and dry:
marred
manic, irreconcilable
damages

(this and that

knick and knack,
kiss your tongue and call it love)

forget your friends and family,

forget your habit and
malfunction:
drink poisons
with pretty labels
and draw spirals
to mimic the golden rule:
the cure-all.

∙∙∙

For the doctor:

i take blood tests even though i'm anemic, i go for xrays at 10 in the
morning, i ask questions, i listen closely, i take the train, i open wide, i give
them the "good arm," i let them bruise and pinch and poke, i wear paper
gowns, i step on cold scales, i let them touch my spine, elbows, neck,
kidney, ovary, hold still!, i accept blankets, i ignore screaming babies, i fake
smiles, i grit my grimy teeth, i listen through headphones, i read yellowed
books and magazines, i wait and wait and wait and wait and wait, i drive to
chappaqua and say hi to the gardener, i watch them take notes, i let them
make fun, i write poetry, i stare at the ceiling, i bring an extra sweater, i
freeze and sweat and bleed, i pee in a cup, i dissolve tablets under my
tongue, i tell them any little thing they want to know, i wear fun socks, i
wear good underwear, i write on myself, i offer up my every breath, i hold
back tears, i full-body spasm, i sit on the floor, i touch my toes, i roll my

17
tennis ball, i take off all my clothes, i call my family, i call my friends, i spit, i
swallow, i wash, i wipe, i let it sit, i pay and pay and pay some more, i
become friends with the nurse, i accept sexual harassment, i sit knees up, i
point to wherever it hurts, i shower and shave, i brush my hair, i give them
that "i hate you" glare, i am quiet, i am difficult, i am unobtrusive, i am
complex, i am young, i am old, i do not understand.

Amy Dupcak

draeg

fonofoto
zloom
oOoOoOo
utter an clutter
“hings”

fhog

18
missetd th e a
ir
a colgar
jjjjjj
lodt caga

boane

munder mooud
loang cow
OoOoOooo
creEep ym
daeh

lackwords

norr

doc addter
cccame an

19
 beets ///

)falll(

runk

lodst uh T
tTtTt
scape em floorr
_._._

thurds

snagke them
negck
~..~..~

20
 pleese the floorrr . . .

YAXCHE

Ore I gathered ::::: spelt ¬. shoe fo

sp

Am ::so :d:u:s:t:y: so wet an rUgged a

||L||a||d||d||e||r|| follllowedd )me( soMe fome p

uzzled .l.i.n.t. cllusterredd at my bA

ck || your s. П.uit clOuddy your aRm a th

n
r-e-a-d--— stu g beneath the soUp ah

·· S···—
=~plaSh~==

at caVe

s SkY ˚˚

below a Pencil i spitting at my walllll

or lap

.the lightning’s SOap the TrUdgiNg up a hill

or bONEs of sayball T ree my cLocking MO

Ụth said you were gagging on a Ball

·O·O·O·O·O· an siNKing in the clOwns an d

21
inking in the leAVes down “
r THERE” ~ ˚~

CORONA

i
dr ll uh
ºne||ckº

• O•
o

flOOd mEat cRawing dOWn the //s/l/o/p/e// c

lutch ¬my¬ foott runnnnninngg at you pas

i .H.ested puZZle
t t off h gh ˚˚air˚˚˚ my c

tHought you Offff o O my reeking ggre

aSe my L eeak cofffee in my arm ——=pit’s

NOStrill that’S yoUr misist ·:·:·out·:·:· si
de ·:·:·:· the ·~· rottin g croWn Myour M
Ụ
··ttered··

ii iiiiii
iiii hair

B
right
lliiccee

22
·········
···
John M. Bennet

23