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BLUE & YELLOW DOG

Issue One Spring 2010 & Issue Two Summer 2010

Blue & Yellow Dog Edited by Raymond Farr Copyright 2010 remains property of each individual author.

Cover art: unified fielded 5 w/txt by Raymond Farr Published September 2010 by Blue & Yellow Dog Press 2425 SW 3rd Ave #98 Ocala, FL 34471 Email: warholaray1@embarqmail.com Text & art work published in this volume also appear in the on line version of Blue & Yellow Dog. http://blueyellowdog.weebly.com

Spring 2010 Naomi Buck Palagi J. F. Quackenbush Michael Farrell Neil Addison Felino Soriano Andrew Topel Josh May Adam Fieled Atlanta Poets Group Ali Asgar Sanwarwalla James Sanders Arkava Das Thomas Fink Raymond Farr Summer 2010 Christine Herzer Valery Oisteanu Philip Byron Oakes Travis Macdonald Nico Vassilakis Francis Raven Jessie Janeshek Ton van t Hof Sean Burn Eddie Patterson J. D. Nelson Jenny Enochsson

SPRING 2010

Naomi Buck Palagi city block in spring bodies jogging around the golfcourse or walking on this concrete campus bodies not concrete, not tulip but flesh with thought stupendous effort not to touch male shoulder under soft t-shirt it is spring and the wind lays down scents (there, under the tree, you hear the soft grunting?) do not bring your guitar to the lawn (she has too many curves it is unseemly in public)

that metal pole should not be placed just so

the wind, now, has lifted the scent for all to see SHE draped only in petals and her long hair and the gentle pink of blood arching closer and clinging to this city block in spring

in the darkened corner/ birth roll it round in my hands bring my nose close and pull back roll it round and examine the carvings it is not to taste, but I do soft and wet, tiny buds of my tongue ever so close, testing this thing pull back and look BITE! (just a little, just closing the teeth, really, on this not-wood) roll it round (my naked ape hands, my thin ape lips) what are these ideas these lumps of thought malleable for a time then overnight kiln-dried with dark speckled-blue glaze beautiful lustrous so so hard

metal dreamt about the professor last night stopped by his office and he wasnt there though the door was open i saw then he was (there) after all had moved all his furniture to the most hidden corner but not his normal furniture he had removed all wood all books all color and had only file cabinet desk and chair all metal i

would ask him what is plain in his life or sterile but as any psychiatrist knows the dream is not about the professor but about the dreamer s eye metal scares me so why I do not know so cold and smooth as if to prove theres life without a soul sitting in a coffee shop (warm, warm) i first (over) heard about the metal forest adding fire and rain makes color how can this be with no tree s no soul yet here so life we live in metal walls pull out the heart and tack it up to see some kind of color

lessons from the sea all in all there is not that much left to say, and yet, we speak. tugging at each other for words, for more. we are born alone we die alone why not celebrate, she asks, wanting some other answer. on the mountaintop i climb an old mill and scan the sea, looking for the end. the woman who owns the sea owns the edge and has promised it her final petit mort. person contained in body yet so impossibly not. speak, say the eyes, grey like the sea, yet blink their fortressed windows closed. i smash my heart against yours and still, the cells do not combine. squirm and pound the two hearts like beef liver together, fuse, dammit!, yet standing back to observe my handiwork they fall limply apart, simply two flattened fleshes, separate as ever. speak like the sea she says, and i touch your hand, lightly. cautiously, we descend from the mountaintop.

J. F. Quackenbush The Last Man for Amy King & Rachel McKibbens The temptation hmmmm the temptation is to get a little meta with it. Colorful. Like kaleidoscopes in those little fists raised sticky with it. There is there in the precession of signs, the circus side of it, down at the down at the waterfront, boardwalking carefully so as not to step on a crack but not to break into an unmanly skip nor otherwise. Temptation hmmm there in the original, there in the serpent any woman standing nude beneath the tree with it. So it goes. Me, I go with it, so much jetsam skating by like flat track roller girls in punk rock stage names. Did I mention that the circus was in town? There there might be elephants and razorbacks for the heavy-lifting yes. But within where carried, where the snatch-team ponies might hold and buckle. Clearly then these are the performances to be given. Maurer notes that Brooklyn so-called was once referred to as the City of the Dead by fin de sicle hobos. Still like muppets we shall mutter the few misremembered catechisms of waste and pig iron. Left to our own devices we would be the machinists of a new fangled cutlery to be pitched and steady. Why the Last Man? you might ask. There could be an answer for that. Somewhere in The Language of the Underworld near the maggots and jelly bean

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counting houses. It's a paroxysm. Held in fits the kind of which which prescriptions might be laid for violet wands and tremors in the ataques de nervios to be remaindered a conversion disorder for "aids that every woman appreciates." Click click click. But nothing. I'll take it for what it's worth. Trudges of the shoes fit loosely now. Reduced as such to a couple bandoliers of nightmare milk and the residue of what few millenia left.

Jesus Said the Box File Creep Suppose it begins. Give us that much and I'll give you the rest. Suppose it begins and out it pours a sort of wash that you can't drive through in the desert ever but careful. Remember there are rabbits and albino corn snake menageries of feral cats and sure maybe they have a royal hierarchy we're never privy to. I can imagine the radiation the way it in flux carries the signal a bit farther. I am the farther shore. And there across the water where the word swam like flying fish snapping. It was quiet then sure there was water when it began. That's prob'ly important. Just give us then the beginning give us the water and the word and you can have the rest, some worm eaten spacetime contingency plan where the woof of it doesn't quite knot the way you'd expect. Say suppose it got that way and it was just

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dark all the time. Say it was just you talking to the water all hushed and quiet. Suppose it came just pouring out of you like you never asked the question, like you're sitting there with a sick toddler and her fists are shaking like a Cambodian fireline. Say those ropes of snot stuck to your shirt spell all kinds of words like "love" and "hope" and "Fortinbras." Say that's what the panic is, running down some London side street an echo on the water like the hush it is. Suppose that's all that came down. What color would it be? Where would the place be situated? What might the dolphins do with us in air tanks? How many fingers is your great great grandmother crossing behind her back? Which words from the middle english might you tattoo along the inside of your wrist bone? What came all this from, why should I wonder and which lists might be made? Clearly all that's left. Clearly we sit in a room and clear minded think maybe it made us like this like him because he's so very likely so very very lonely. so it goes.

Odds and Ends in Medias Res For L. Part of it was the way she'd say "fuck" like it didn't matter. Part of it was other stuff. Some times given little pieces was better. Hips like Laos on fire

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the way she carried. Skin the night music in bethlehem the decade after the bilateral talks broke down her lips were little more than the fatwa declared. plastic wrap too, the little things kept wrapped up and refrigerated yeah so and the way she'd say "fuck" in the middle of things. And then look. Look up and cauldron blue eyes for david lynch landscapes of her spread out besides. Not that it matters much in the middle, the center not to hold but puncture. the surface tension a tesla coil of springs reverb in the current. No but given that the way she'd say "fuck" would cull out all the useless bits and rain sweat and tears down on like agent orange. Her soviet skin the vellum of sacrifice. Agnus Dei, painted in the ink tracer fire of her fingernails bitten. Bitte, Bitte the tongues of hundred years wars the mamluk conquest a trail licked slow and careful, to sketch such glyphs as she might want to say it some way.

Arizona #1: Not that it ever felt the finish but there it was. Clamor and bang so sure I take the meaning given wrapped in wax paper the shadow of its black out. Not for nothing but this

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Sonora is what I take it something other less than simple desert day brake. Color like a whirl, mouth of the sun sky, lightened in the bleach, smell soaked in columbine, climbs like the ways, welter in the wait wait weight less than advertised, lizard, sumption other than I, I and I in lightness, Colorado better than, helpful to a point, knifed for closer better hands. Stihl tho it steels the stillness stolen stop watch water breaker breaker; stiff as a copse of border trees the patrols in which this lives. Take this then and name me Ho Chi Minh, city that I have half halved hospice moments out of this. Cover this: peak into pieces of it cracked and brittle crack rock mountain candies. Sedona so it goes. Several and these joints that might be cracked against, some moments blister like and others like caramel like sour apple green like the shiny place on her eyelids traces of me might founder. Five for this and live on. Give what given givens are but for our place but found. I will ever echo the moral Vietnam of her Afghani principalities. These then the tiger angel dreadnoughts just Jagga Natha rolling down the back, thug thug thug. Butter with oils and vegetable meats. Kilter like the coster mongers kill but never listen; this then the ringing clangor, the silence of no bells no hungry drums of skin stretched, no other place it may be found

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but here and there also all sewn short for the effect, ankles bitten lips stung eyelid lifts the coral snakes undress slippy in some ultra orthodox way you might get off on a technicality is all I'm saying you might get off yet liberation is over rated. I take. I get.

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Michael Farrell fancies read the book first carefully, then poorly. take it on stage, let it fall from your ruffles at dinner . speculate on local dick in the margins. gabble of it in tv & on the cinema. challenge its author to duel with churros. read it as if it were a gruel or never-rising yeast. (reading its) tantamount to being a beast in the sea. trace the cover, warts & all, & floorpaper someones floors with it. lock it up: beat it like a homeless. disassociate; write about other things be a writer. write with a slide between knifing doors! write help back-to-front on apples. a writer bedrinks (or misbedrinks). they wear lilac in the house & saffron in the brothel. warrant a style; go on a panel. make coco-pops emerge from your mouth like pearls during droughts & interviews. review something. go behind the scenes of a flea circus; get to know the flea circus ; become one: think as a flea circus thinks. sell your story to pooch weekly. get an agent, & an ex-cop to follow lovers. make your own brand of gum & stick it to trees in a gesture. rattle the bones of your morbid generation even if you have to dig them up ! take a wasp to the station. speak in whips . the cake hasnt been baked that doesnt have your fake name on it. lounge like a lozenge. look on the phonebook as a desert & despair: give me the filofax life! serve diners slices of walkingstick, crutch. dream till your sleep improves. what grey fancies are these? elephant or mouse cookies, your favourite vertical treat. the unliterary life is not worth living

road a diorama, a numb chuckle parade. a hands display : froth, scum. we were in a lineup,

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a spacefile. the one with the scar ... they pushed hard & we went to the side. someone was reading ida in a lifeboat. last day of summer; last meals, last violence, last pathos the last summer for some. some of the kids acted kooky: testing our guides reserves of humour / tenderness /discipline /cruelty wed come far enough ... near enough to be far enough, though hoping to set up a tent city somewhere . you remembered a performance of macbeth youd seen in scotland . ( a lucky night that ended in a coldwater flat .) someone was singing ave maria. john & bob played an outdoor version of crash cart with shopping trolleys. im giving them all the support of my heart. whats this key the key to now? the soccer balls rooted. its about the most interesting spot ive ever been to. the grandfathers keep the posts clean : not an easy job. when they run out of chips, the customers are happy to eat fried bread; or the inside of a monkeys head ors that wishful thinking? the delay was shared generously by everyone . the blackboard reminded me of the risks linked with teaching . dave & ken were getting more like john & bob . the women were otherwise occupied. a swing dangled from a metal branch. carrie was cleaning up sarahs spew before nicole came in. the piano keys were the hardest . sarah had been munching white violets into a paste, when she had a flashback to bondi on valentines day. nicole counted the devils in her friends conversation, then began spacing out, & saluted herself, calling herself captain geranium . it was a nice day. i bought a diamond -studded collar to wear to the party, & got john to wax me. suddenly i noticed all the bongos had disappeared, as if in a flood: whos keeping track of this reality? make the words bleed was some free-floating advice id picked up somewhere . did it apply to every genre? i pickled my shoes, some of the luck fell out, & a short novel id been writing called the toothache museum

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fungus & lightning creaking. a robot shepherdess in a retirement village, refugee from ppp. caring for two pieces of tin & wool: fungus & lightning. humble & sly canberra art-sheep .' join the human race', a fuzzy feeling from the 'orchestra pit', where they throw the old instruments. (any old musicians are lowered gently.) nothing to starve on here, only 'biscuits' & conversation. whats it like, having others pity? not having worked for thirty-five years, now thrust into a complex of 'frightening' love. you ask when the movie starts shooting? she has flotsam , or baby mps, to mop her spill. the map , by a sydney sponger, cries from its oceans. is a sound democracy possible? noise (trolleys, patient shrieks) reigns, but then theres revolution & the noises killed, & silence reigns until its killed off by slim dustys 'duncan '. fungus & lightning prefer the blues . they play monkey nuts, monkey grits till they run out of fingers. the pharmacists no help . a plastic cloud settles over the village; no real breathing gets done. the robot shepherdess writes a play . she wanders out into a garden of abstractions. the concepts of rain & hail assail her, a green timidity salts the air. its monthtime: birthdays are hosed down, memorials reclined in . fungus & lightning come looking for love, drag right through the uranium. stars fall, crashing nearby. what if the shift displaced your fondue set? what if the wool came loose from the tin? criticism gathered like barley at the village

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. newspaper columns became known by their middle names. general lowering-of-the-tone asked a question regarding rimbaud; the shepherdess cottage burned. (it had never married.) the director, wanting to mark technology monday, served ' digital eggs ' & 'contact bread' as fallout

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Neil Addison The Best Of Harvest Another morning potentially sleepless disciple me this. I

I will show you how I worked that toy-box hard: doling out its givens. Man walks out on a limb and finds it slathered with gravy a recipe for takings mobilizing zinc. yourself in droves. The boat rocks out under cloak of transmission embarked on a rout.

Expect

Let's Get Dissed Life is seeded cloud-nine. The circle is made out to lightning. It looks to bond with energy and hook up with certainty as only a circle can. Infinitely decisive. He threw himself over the horse to stop its death from exploding. She interviews strangers for that army of Judases loyal beyond control

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Felino Soriano Approbations 295 after Jason Morans Refraction 1 Open symphony air mingling strings of mornings first aerial yawn strumming dialect of color conflicts, rose, jewelry combination. Purpose momentum gains physical near running metaphor open serial adaptation: constant circular meaning enhances lights varied multi-spoken rhythms of plaid and one-toned paragraph of movement.

Approbations 296 after John Coltranes My Favorite Things Her. Smiling. Stilled. Happy. Singing. Shadowless, distanced from any apparitional parallel, hyper-constructs of malleable time escaped from wrists of fashion-speaking shine. Delicate, cotton swathed gift of hand

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holding her various music, voice, whispering jazz into the listening funnel of dialogical occasions. Becoming soon reflection of one speaking being perched on memory of encountering genesis: smile, smile, converse.

Approbations 297 after Miles Davis Mood This awkward noun awakes with the one attached to the symmetrical rise of eyes blinking blur to ascertain physical postulations. Guidance of conversational tone fire-tongue or lips respecting hidden synonyms of days many revelations.

Approbations 302 after Charles Mingus Open Letter to Duke Sound first saturated preference, mine among the child I was exhibiting, unfocused. As if your body stood among faceless freedoms, pseudo in their truest undeniable reflections, your jazz became the separating hands placing me into the peaceful whereabouts time taught as musical language, unraveling brilliance of newly formed disposition.

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Approbations 303 after Wayne Shorters Wild Flower Motherless, ragged stem dismantling symmetrical hands of other species waving into winds photographic purpose. Purple coat, cleansed by daily rain and visits from articulating bugs of the sacred denomination. Unwilling as fashionable gift, that of hand picked, facilitator of death sans appropriate grief. Instead wears angles of various days as would a runaway child looking for satisfactory love far from the home of demise and physical desolation.

Approbations 352 after Sam Rivers Cyclic Episode Gone to the hiding facet mid breath-twirl ballerina fathom shape dispels anarchy of collaged color truism born following avant-garde paintings died into the post-lean of exacerbation of describing a bodys worthy beyond monetary collocations. Nihilistic virtue, that is believing void saves more frequently than a physical alteration

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coming into blind reflectional adaptations: dissipating

an evening-length dream wholly.

Approbations 353 after Ken McIntyres Reflections Waves reinvent semblance, time-divide whole-voice broken wisdom

fallacy of prophetic openings residing handsomely, halfway section of the maladaptive persona. prosodic versions of neoteric followings, written into a windy minutes aggregated tome of absolute ruminations. Skeletal verses

Approbations 354 after Art Ensemble of Chicagos Theme amour universal Bouquet of miseries, thought hierarchy relinquishing reason, illogical rhythms of the self-inflated mecca, alone deviation, mutilated symptoms. Together the I of circling inventions together breaths braid into hitherto illusions woman|man earth of procured manifestation. Cultural bending reinvented structure, allowance juxtaposed bodies of reinterpreted bareness

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leaving imprints of sound from tandem of indirect cultivation.

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Andrew Topel Weavings 1-8 weavings, inspired by the work of jen bervins. dedicated to sharon topel & rosalie morrell.

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Josh May A Bagel For Joshie it is like butlers don't often when the smoke is cleared, lay fantastic troubles and it is like butlers that make something terrible in generalities often won't have something that the other makes, they call it the purple flower of loneliness that the masquerade of which, when phantasmal and having partially to do with reality, it strives to get back to . my heart breaks . it strives like a mine field or oh it strives like an outfielder best this catch that catch we ply our lovers tentively isn't this washed in bagels what we hope best to recapture * * *

are butterflies with absence and pursed lips I continue but I was lucky forth I had no need skeptical German I had no need you Japanese I said something each. I sed something wonderrhyming to your 'gine thus making something basically longer and easily deceptable * * * my part given yes i was imagining un fettered or like a turntable effect, wobbly with uncentered madness you made this up, the fact that grabbing could be good or quadrants, sprinkled with tea on top of me, or that painting that that that . . . with Their Afghan rudimentary touch someone

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i have no desire to ruin truth and that is why i will never make a good poet on a rainy sunday or even evaporate like the west wind, tangy on my keys there is a doctorate that the winter will blow wthout sense into my nightmare shoo-bee randoo, shoo-bee randoo the terrible nature of which smoking doesn't even for lost highways denseness or thereof, thereof you public beaches, each a magical rainbow, itself a paper wet rained engine, fixated a place to deify the want we were lucky this was not loud enough * * *

The Scenes w/ blacks

immediacy approaching, I think learning something out of place like honest trashcans of saviors you never had for this spectacle we do go special word go back in time for haven't in It this I can go for bouncing off [I know] * * *

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My God r a commoner of sleep I was to wage, lost was my ways to this I do stage you have no trifle when first was meant tribe In this electronic age, electronic age was meant napkin - under the gallery lights like a fiction that spices your pen not your fights * * *

what envisioned mess you think there is. speckal like my number, we have to decal a lot of stuff pines, the undertow we don't often, fro happens. champions of turn to me * * *

what a walking ghost, these, to return to them, bagels it is at about this time, that without any extended, I look back we were close. at one time," longer ago than I care to remember. but this isn't about that, it is more closely just a real hardcore test of trampolines. What we finish in that absence "of vipers, should they add, one day, on page five "we will be magnificent," there is a system of values of tonight. it's one way to ending about. was that what the bagel growing to encompace a suicide the whole bagel thing, I learned later, was about look, If I wanted to I mean that was really what it was about and it wasn't really densely packed in there I feel like I should say,

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that so many months later

Untitled the argument being that a floater like a loud kitty entering is nothing have your heart and eat it too or something like a pasteurized milk bottle why don't you everything like a homogenized radar everything for emphasis the actual matrix walks around eating kitty litter and then spaces out we await. nope, it's just me and I act like doors of heaven sometimes I know there's an emotion locked behind: can't anyone do this, be a hypocritical idiot (i'm not saying John Ashberry is doing that i'm just saying water-under-the-bridge isn't itself a movie.

I have a little proctor, why won't you lien me sing there is a front in the gone there is a frond there is a frog in the bog, that like so many others I am tired of getting it write spring from self my ass, spring from self-production I've had a warrior, thought condoned lets make maintenance art, like post posted lets do the retail, derail no\\ lets do cosmos, whoa whoa,

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gum is not a transitional object people are speaking spring, and they are speakingof liza minelli, why did I turn off the radio let me go back and get it for what is interruption that . . . we foregoo, or were ... erg, my own: yes in fact gum is the ultimate transitional object it speaks to neither here nor there with no reason to like lie on the floor or be processed in that normal way but then you do swallow it as I wait, this is as I wait, it is as I do such a thing mean it. I don't happen to think that people today are concerned with their interiors, not as yest eryear when you happened to think "what will I today it is more like, "my reaction to thus and such is essential isn't something (even this periodical motion is gone, symmetry it's true

its not like the vission we actually accented that we actually accepted that did I happen to do things that the pan or sponsor you have. he tripped and I wonder, like a talk-off open, you and then water oh no it's not

it isn't like the terrible threes

it's not that something lint

not that we pagan that, and have mass consumption, cause it's not like that not on our earth that you manner what isn't santa. if it wasn't he too sez that.

either

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cone

3 Haikus anger from bed, my favorite unlearned yoga pose the skeptical beaver

it isn't as if we can't admit unto ourselves every victim for knowing

there is something to be said for night mistakes / going uncorrected like a one

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Adam Fieled #1249 Despite what I write, theres not much sex in the world walk down Walnut Street, take an inventory how much sex are these people getting? This one fat, this one ugly, this one old, this one a baby, a couple married twenty years, or ten, or five not much sex in these lives. But media, movies thrive on representing this tiny demographic: single, young, promiscuous. Crowds come.

#1261 If I were a rock star, Id take a flight to Singapore, hoist you up to Imperial Suite in a swank hotel, turn on a Jacuzzi, order up some caviar (which I dont even like, but no matter), wed take our clothes off, conceive a child right there, which wed raise from Imperial Suite, and my World Tour would begin right there, would go on forever

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#1339 house with ivy wooden door, yellow kitchen, clunky dresser on which she displayed all kinds of tricks, nights were young, strong, climactic in this place, sex, green buds, all this here, Im a kid, as a man, I look at this, cant sense much who I was, why I ended this, if it is an end

#1334 To show whats inside, might it not be better to not show it, I thought it as I watched a show of something that didnt show most of what it was, which made me not want to show me, to you or anyone else, & in that lack of show to make an impression of depth, which might show something more than if I tried to show you I.

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Atlanta Poets Group The Cancellor, Future Enemy of Batman envelop stuck lip polyanna disenfranchised plummet feather dander cluck in the beginning electrified belt buckle luster razor hooch ease upholstered pincushion catnip leap salmon fork sewer tied gurgle antiacid foment volition swoosh failing grade stop sign blinkers zzzzt east lake bonus round tiger toy marascino yellow salubrious pushy can opener can clink muster snout 16 guage music video spumoni fortieth port-o-let good love letter crisis crumple tissue debt plywood joints finger flux capaciter birds underwear metallic thread eruption whammy bar alabaster cantankerous model T hump hominy grits groceries murder special poke elevation brake dust cardboard maneuvering foolhardy incorrigible historiography lexis capon chancellor pilot tights

Math Rock Frission zeppelin from the sunset is he gay frog peter horn cans station highbrow greenway (in a sentence) breakdown lock formula uh-huh whatever un-uh home despot WD-40 rectangular deficit unit for negativity processing (this is mine) yellow sticky paper muddy spiral puppy burl bold foxy galoshes you didnt mean tainted bowl weavel plasticized weather front sedate the dog you can be so indeterminate like spiders all mushy with meaning inside? big broom thwack frown formica orange 42

nebulous cluster swine obtuse cloven pistacio como se dice? upsidedown question flow language wave impact module toot almandone conflation market spittle peanuts and such answers too pat digital gustatory return policy worn out brain exit pole brightness crumb kneed babysoft smokestack lightning vasoline suck heel conniption fink fabric of privatized life support cad stamp of approval legitimator burglarized doodle in middle one word a piece

Walk Up Oz call to action balderdash management screw up Venice expletive fly conniption flash wow thats a big beer check out oil can leavin volatile verticality ammonium facile felicitous shackles cram it hacksaw goof snicker she said goof and I said hacksaw judicious commerce converse holiday britches marmalade sky writing is fleshy and basic tintinambulation socket plosiove marrow was that narrow as in mu-mu lights lights good gravy momentum tartar crass resemblance flooshing he knows how to goodn aerodynamic digital dead or soon to be dying flim flam candle cake youd be a bad analyst risqu I tell you what absolutely lousy pilot light unless cadence curlique discard tray or discard tray bellybutton hamper pot middle management all the way wombat while sleeping iridescent clove spiders did you hear that no mining in motion after Jason Priestleys wedding

The Dictators Invisibility viscous flower disintegration dressing room wasteland category

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and control Im not down with echos monkey in the middle like going ape, man up a tree without a puddle androgynous hand spring mind your poppy cock ever seen a ball roll arboreal pebbles give em an inch monster leggings waning flux utions throw away nation flow thru measurement delusions pandemonium broke out my song this machine kills get in the back all-over jesus suit edge-uh-muh-cation honey-gram spooky illumination entity like pissin on a flat rock flute and granite handcramp thats empathy for ya blond onyx Hans verbal rehearsal possibility get on with it meanwhile across the Turing line kinder kinder bluff deontological factoid that house half burned go for it shanandoah valley

From Hell to Hollow Body grading travesty bootliquor lilac collective down under possibility trau force major ping pong fraidy cat liason holograph que markyform syllable pickwick red top mountain rest Virginia buttermilk bottom old lower gestation period god phoenix we ventiloquists mistress mule w/o regrets wetware clay fashioning voluminous crumb rotorooter busker who bomb a mutilator cranky high bush hysteria (as in blueberrys) hogwash snake in the grass September bubblegum heated hook up serpentine blood dripping down one finger salute

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cute little fortified homeless parade and a red tube smelt

Not Cranky (poem) Butt Gruntled finicky jettison blue cracker black lenox mcgillicuty pinhead romp ho-bag swank tupperware flume cameltoe hoosecow part-time chronomeasurement force T-T late-bloomer marriage zirconium cramp digital digitalis urp rushy jeapordy caged in mulligatawny princess granified missile sturgeon blueish toned surgeon frankly flow pot belly scrunch canoe chorusoid up and under hoola chicken shit parmenides blasted those berber plowhand banana skins skanks marmet akimbo crossbow plague wide-open mayonaisey prariedog inoculate snide microbial sushi wonk frog suit nerve gas nerf wholesome wicked exostructure sizzling pod quietistic pupa Bostonian blather cranial tinky nativity umber frank the carhole echoic asinine fluctuates

Poem for Swinging Richards Im blank puckered bearded snookums quaint not terribly funny crimescene smootch fetish gamelon pay-stree finished school marmalade prance crack crown gobi armpit cherry blossoms liquid swell stacy foot spiritual alphabetical vacation inclines whisper whisper kennel iggy coriander diaper rash columbo hem line merciful scuba Jesuit onions guilty confusing you with puffy

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masculine shin guard incense trap setting sparkle underhanded berlin crayon box clothespin gossip lead pibald jeremiad conservatory cloning flocculate being untrustworthy grassland peek-a-boo buck owens charisma I cant take this fra angelico razorback gulping implosion lacerate grin fumble creamy hobby horse-like binder classy um planet o-ring torch munchies chocolate spiders gobble everyman vitamin fulton homebody with dickie

Briefcase of Shenanigans drive suds macram finish Magyar slides pickle snoopy collector symbiosis upgrade or facsimile cuddle lizard trudge man-sized edited green bottle ella dot dot dot road rage crinkles rotated half a hair grabbag creampuff ventriloquism antidote and therefore caveman gaucho floozie caving into head of an oshbegosh slash holler martian fuse horse hockey rio grand dad farm worthy buckled hairshirt sepia claus santa tidal pool spelunker on off switch fecal boot euglena beanie strangulation Georgian pool topography forgotten circuits pant suits finangle match seers clench mountain entangle housecoat listed domicile Zanzibar purple luncheonette cryogenic species armpit metallic nosehair filibuster

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I Need to Wash My Foot delany elevated node epoxy forget-me-now plant crafty solo fram crumpler fret schmearin costal purse fall opening tundra weedeater concubine snoodge and shadow vacuum rapt balsa wood jalopy crimp mike and/or vic orange whites man broker foresting perquacky moniker yalls tab perfume prurient philanthropy mimic wrangler possess panky gang fuel dermatologist creek throat trots morphing catastrophic crowd reach London fuller shithead blue berserk gumdrop fossil ice fishing island colloquy sound zoo floodgates crick abraca zebra sniff effective fuck categorizing prude fondue wheat felonious zinger quirk achilles doppelganger spaz wherein dress crosser tendency doily not included cringeaholic spiral purkle lemon crime baby nursing home xylophone janet miss wheelbarrow if youre muscular clock tennis toes Rosicrucian

To Get To Build The New People ply lack clannish whispy sputter winter knickers pundit banana bugle mirror blooper cowlick crispy center phantasmagoric multiple ameliorate meryl streep conquest dingle gang plank crews draconian hop a long philistine magic wand food lion Gregory not gene pole grin Gregory chance Kentucky destination croon crab apple grin supposed swan once upon a time needy fingerless underwear poppy seeds Damascus viral lesions floof paper case

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coordination lather lambs just off the cape discuss present eel worms Attila lions share night time Gnostic hoof in mouth electric conglomerate jerry rig landstreet crinoline mattress shinola banana paste sit con dot string collie viscous suitably far flung resting place dull knife budo

APG Bio Note & Process note Since 1997, the Atlanta Poets Group has been a shifting yet recurrent heterogeneous grouping of both (split)individual and collaboramerged semiintentional language workers operating under the sign of poetry. Committed to perpetrating disjunctive and disruptive linguistic practices, the APG meets in salon-like fashion on Wednesday evenings and gives semi-regular public performances around the Atlanta area. Individual members can be found in the anthology ANOTHER SOUTH edited by Bill Lavender. Group publications include SONNETS FOR THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, SEPARATIONS OF WEBBING (both from 3rdness) and SWITCH BLADE (The Nameless). Various magazines have done special sections of entire issues of APG material, including Gestalten, Mirage#4/Periodical, Score, Wire Sandwich, & The Journal of Artists Books (issue 19). Find them at their blog. A.P.G. Process Note for the small book ACEPHALOUS WRECKS: the group was used by me (I remain nameless) but I used them sos I could make poems quickly. usually 2 per meeting and it went for some time. the group would say words, taking loose turns, but sometimes overlapping and I would write them on various lines of the page. new words were added here or there. I also added and changed many along the way. poem would be called over when page was full or felt full enough. the group would get in side conversations sometimes or make jokes, I tried to steal as many of these as I could to later use against theirs & my name, I, the A.P.G.

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Ali Asgar Sanwarwalla The Oneiromancer On the dole eh! Mr Oneiromancer There is a word for men like you Not from mothers kind tongueShe calls you frivolBut from the parched lips of Us proletariat.

Teacher Pygmalion Munchausen like you thought; flailing, threshing you thought; thinking you could redeem the insignias of your heraldry you thought; with a wry sollipsistic smile you thought: Ecce homo your bastard child: like water sputtering reflection undulating in the face of congeries on afferent nerves, like a deliberate act of your slinking into dreams, and staccato sacrophagous inferences; while he was busy rubbing shoulders with pompous sleep

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My fathers diary Not a penny worst: Foisted onto indelible junctures You have left your dying words, Fledglings emerging from the fracas; their hands Bare and cold and asphodel Eyes, Adjusting to the white trickle Of brumous light like Winters fog Over garroted road blocks You could never pass With the warders of language -Such ill-begotten enjambment And what of catachresisWhile your grimy scraps Glimpse, Dog eared, the imputed For their stock still pools Of backwaters

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James Sanders

Plants 216

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Arkava Das Rath (chariot)

sandaled deities// a little help// one breaker// lunges across the coastline // shivering crowds// moral spectra// nothing on time// you have been all the mare// all the time// Ashwamedha// at the hotel window // the jug drew a reflection// oscillation// hint// third eye// an unknown to draw the wall// temple elaborated// sandals taken off// flung hissing// at the Bay of Bengal// with an armchair// facing verandah due west// but for the dress// she was// onto this// old chap// finely perceived// a master// mind// awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. awake. apologetic countenances// beautiful around the beacon// Jagannath// Subhadra// heavy with jewels// about half blind// was all the aforesaid// leave any curiosities// Brahman in the swirling after smut// bubbles in the teeth// sands// with a rubber tire float

doze

there was so much disturbance// the compartment// could hardly keep eyes open// why have anybody to roar out against// the train itself activity// between stops// in a nutshell// middle aged// in cargo pants// jowl// after so much rice// the dusty floor scraped// from side to side// hard knuckled urchins// nudging for money// <babu o babu>// faces suspiciously twisted// think from sniffing DendriteTM// the glue in pieces// of newspaper// bandhs// midday scandals// pleasure// bombs going off// look at the words// now a little// further// further back// the curvirostral tracks// drop dead// begin to branch// an empty belly adds to the credit// rapist cops// a little// goes a long way// back// on every rail// tied together// a phantom devoted to// even extended towards// flare // sirens// added this manner// all stops to// circulate// never be resolved into// ease guessing nothing// and also dead if// sitting on it// a few paise tumble towards// doze

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Thomas Fink DUSK BOWL INTIMACIES 18 Many times, he had to spend money to go to sleep. Longer than forever, I held out on him. He looks unfinished. The only thing I like about him is the singing, and hell hold me to it. Well buy a great big coke. I want to unbend, bend down, and give him the other bag, so why cant we slide into bed, and . . ..

Then youll prove like everybody else.

DUSK BOWL INTIMACIES 20 Those creamy thingswho wants them? They covered my ass, covered my everything. Its better to be with a man who can help me renovate a lowincome tribe. As soon as Joe and I lost interest, I didnt have to get it., and thought I was going to be in that very, very, very cold place. This is good weather if you stay inside. But I couldnt find the hole. Ill be falling on the state.

ARTLESS CONDO ON AN EXHAUSTED CLIFF Granny hustled for years to get that museum clean. Humility. Authoritarian. This family manufactures the leading misleading traffic signs, keeps us undefined yet somehow unified. The gifts the box, Pandora. This house brands your desertion. Eternal censure sucks. 54

MAYAN HAY(NA)KUS 17 A no as yes. Hey: yet.

18 I go to hell. Why? Art.

19 A we in you, all, sap.

20 I be of two. Her, him.

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Raymond Farr The UFO Gambit (looking back I It was a fractured night. I cried when I heard the singing from nowhere, so fragile. I felt sorry for my purely American sense of disconnect while babysitting Zero in a minor key. In those days I often took baths with a woman I knew, as Zero cackled at Mork & Mindy on the tv in my basementa flying saucer of a warped Zerotype-thingy had landed. The night sky was a switched on monitor. A flying saucer thingy appeared & disappeared (& often reappeared) as a molten love goddess whose sexual proclivities hastened us to worship on the wild side of love, a body we defiled, hot in the arms of the hen constellation, the heat turned up, insane vertigo, lust in the jello the jello the jello. As one had a hardon in Zulu air space, one had creature comforts, piano keys for key rings. The ice was big & real. & a man was downwe had a man down. What could we do but fuck through our pain & stare out at space waiting for something? We never knew what. II All nine investigations were ongoing and discovered no tangible evidence, no human witness or record of UFOs streaking zigzag in airspace above Dogtown Common during the hours of 20 hundred hours Standard Military Time and 22 hundred hours Standard Military Time. I measured the organic something, as determined by

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scientists & found nothing only created more nothing. & by this I mean I was randomly accessed / I was kaput in the foot. & by passenger I mean reoccur or integer. & by Zero I mean those others, out there. Those inchoate nomads marking off their territory & women with streams of stardustpiss. I mean those others obsessed with the richness of loam, who unlike ourselves, reinterpret the flux we behold in what we are. What was it we intended being lovers with Zero? One black horrific night there were mandates to secure as we secured our reason & interrogations into the abduction of null space, a populace with gauges moving forward, & taut nipples attached to Sears Diehards with long thick black plastic electrical cables & spring loaded clamps that held skin & bit it with shiny copper teeth. We had the image of Flash Gordon (& then Flesh Gordon rose from the depths of our subconscious, took a moon maid for a walk in the dangerous Bronx. Walking backwards, just showing off) at war with the Martians. His space ship equipped with the all human death ray no Martian could defeat, he obliterated Zero for the good of mankind. & for the good of mankind & all the cheese on the moon, he just said Nope. No catechism of mud! Not here! Thats when our hearts stopped ticking like watches and glowed green, hypnotic with radium. Our heads wrapped in our space suits like a billion or so baked eggs now one solid alien zapped by an x ray or gamma burst. In this universe, we wandered alone & we liked it

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that way. Solitude was our only friend. & what was space good for if not the joys of bearing us quietly adrift in some imaginary cosmos we kept pent up inside us? & so we wandered alone on stellar mental moonscapes scooping up samples for the lab boys back home. But where is home once you have wandered so far in the search for the unknown? Where had we come to? & who were those others, those invisible others? III & everyone simply everyone on earth yearned to be elsewhere, to be 9 or twenty unresolved issues away from the light years of childhood. Or a moon rock. Or pet rock. Something we hid deep in our souls, far out in space, fed us & acknowledged us. It meant we had life & life could be tangible. A world we assembled inside of another smaller world, paradoxically denying each fragment its place in the cosmos. The something that occurred occurred out of reach. We were seen from the air. Aeroplane. Aeroplane. & we were seen from the roada stream of language like a blessing of ash. & between these two, the past was alive but losing its voice. But that didnt matter. We continued to listen & we slowly went mad somewhere back, cracked at the edges, lost in the margins of the onset of madness. It mustve been then & there, in that incalculable moment, that the significance of Zero tasted like a lime we couldnt stop tasting.

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SUMMER 2010

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CHRISTINE HERZER MY COLLECTION OF PRECIOUS LIQUIDS GOD air-freshener, lace, a notebook, a house for my faces beauty mark, birth mark. both purple umbrella, shrill abandon. both I had a dream about you. You said you look like me HOME everything is true and false simultaneously cow milk & hedgehogs, in the dream I tell everyone, me too, I am re-arranged spinach is my mask word, surefire me LYING you do this every time, you dont believe me, you do this every time, dont speak me beige, uninterrupted threat SEX the silent fire of a rose; friendship, water, a broken mirror unguilting, im in transit how are you? GERMAN your face boreS me, Einmachglas, kuchen, tot, zaubern WOMAN I I sat on a plastic chair, I had nothing to say to i, tonight I heard is voice in my dreams you are a writer W O M A N II windbitch, Landstreicher, it began without feeling, and a body AL AC A R T E oatmeal, god, absence, blow-job, snow without children, Paris, Prada, cinnamon, skin music FACE I all gum must be placed beneath the promise, a circle, a shield, a hotel lobby from where airplanes depart, and then prayer, and then prayer F A C E II

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large cone of cardboard filled with sweets and little presents given to children in Germany on their first day of school, i am on the phone with you often DREAM to go beyond my container INDIA shopping malls & hallucinations, spitting with both hands, unrepeatable, love so thick, we climbed a strawberrytree, liminaL FACED you are holding my difficulty, there are many times I want to love you, wherewhen was I beaten? Purple

peonies are slow, not many people work with them wear your best dress wear your hair down withhold nothing list all nationalities you had sex with list all countries you had sex in share this information with your travel agent your cleaning lady your higher power apologize for the apple comment its fuji season and you hurt the wrong person

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go back to that sex list list the names of people you loved by order of violence received or offered share this information with your florist give thanks to the earths seasons buy one peony list the names you were called by the people who loved you

10 One I send you the rain I am waiting for The bus I missed The yellow flower I dont know the name of The blue glass I dont have any more The black ceiling of the monsoon damaged bathroom I send you the bra that needs washing Dust The song ironic The parcel I dont want to open 63

The neighbor who hits her child I send you my ponytail A shampoo bottle My loneliness I send you the boy from the coffee shop the decision I did not take the mouth I hurt the hand I miss I send you curd with honey The moment when time stops The day I met you The year I was born The second that always loves me I send you freshness My toes And all that is good in me I send you the slum in the lane I live in Caramel popcorn Two veg samosas the movies I saw without you I send you the videos on the Volvo buses to Bombay Your hair I send you my age My art and my way Of making fruit salad I send you how I looked at you 64

how wrong I was I send you whats left What I see when I wake up I send you why I send you my best memory of us I send you what only you know I send you what has always been mine I send you towels A plane ticket What we saw when we looked At each other The places my face touched On your body The sentence I said to you on the swing I send you my thankfulness and a rose for everyday to come I send you what I cannot say The phone calls I really dont want to make any more I send you my wedding dress Broken glass I send you so much you wont be able to hold it I send you my eyes Two I send you something Green

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Three I send you nothing I send you your smile I send you strAppy sandals Girlfriends Wood, uncooked spaghetti I send you all your sentences that had the word expensive in it I send you glamour The noise a certain type of silk makes The sound of an umbrella opening I send you an appointment with a shrink I send you the United States of America Fifty years of free rent Five mango Lassis The latest issue of Cosmopolitan Magazine A traffic jam I send you apple crumble And sweet-talking I send you funerals I did not want to attend I send you Your Secrets back 4 I send you money More money than you will ever be able to spend a houseboat Oxygen masks 66

Children who say thank you every day I send you blessings from the one we love A tiny mirror with scratches My fingerprints I send you The way I looked when I left him When you nursed me when you Were all I had I send you Thank Yous And Fuck Yous I send you a dictionary of definitions on theft, rentals, loans, HIV A map of Germany, a manual of good manners and healthy conduct with the neighbors I send you a new passport I send you a valid visa A million reasons to stop lying The end of self-pity An invitation for dinner with Angelina Jolie And caf latte at baristas for free every Saturday of the week I send you your mother Five I send you Confidence A hotel suite in New York A raincoat A wedding gown

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six I send you Australia Mount Everest and Machu Picchu The weight I lost A candle light diner Incense and everything else you cant stand I send you my best I send you what I will not be able to finish One of the flowerpots on my terrace A tower made of red wool balls A bikini Dal Makhani I send you the inside of freedom The scar on my right arm The air miles I traveled Puccini The bathers the shoes you wore when you picked me up at the airport I send you all the DVDs you rented I send you your feet and the way I looked at you I send you everything we have in common All the reasons why you dont like me I send rejection I send Anti wrinkle cream, Your age 68

and a course in politeness I send you 7 tulips and an invitation I send you my credit card I send you frustration and a dog I send you where I go at night and how I talk to the moon I send you my best pair of blue jeans New flip-flops I send you how I look when I wear my hair down I send you a house by the sea A suitcase full of yellow earplugs An unlimited amount of tracing paper I send you your nationality Your accent I sent my father already I send you black a piano and all of my bones 7 I send you a manuscript of food stains, moon scars and keys crying I send you my Biography Eight I send you a friend for everyday of the upcoming year Book stores I send you understanding Floors to sit on 69

Ponds cold cream Amul curd Someone to touch your shoulder To Hold your heart Nine I send you my resignation I send you paint for the swings Rose water I send you home made conflict Plum jam the way my grandmother made it I send you the long overdue news that he died I send you Germans without their mouths Women with grace I send the world for a visit on Tuesday evenings I send CNN And this whole new outlook on meditation A debate on poverty I send thanks for not having me anymore and thanks for helping me grow 10 I send you my passport Garbage bins, Handcuffs Band-aids and unlimited tolerance The promise to come back as often as I can I send you what it takes to live with you I send you my dreams What I sleep in 70

I send you Louis Vuitton sandals and all the things you dont need to seduce I send you what doesnt change I send you Jaisalmer, The backwaters I send you my first visit, The entire wing of An old palace somewhere in Rajasthan I send you Dust Dawn and Stillness I send you everything I already gave you I send you skin that cannot forget Feet that will never leave A Love that is unafraid of your face

WUNDERKAMMER

[ writing in progress]

I dont have shelves, a closet or curtains in my home in India, I own two green trunks, one houses all of the journals/books I filled over the last 7 years when leaving the country, I lock the trunk/ I am aware that this is a gesture towards protection, not a guarantee of privacy I dream about making the books into a sculpture or a play, there have been other dreams, involving weavers maybe I will burn them one day, at the burning ghats, it is an option 3 years ago a room of strangers overheard my weekly phone conversation with my therapist her shoulders seesaw from shy to sophisticated The second trunk houses the robes I wore for meditation, it sits on my terrace, I no longer desire to throw out / give away the robes, and I will not cut them up, the girl who wore them was full of pride, I think she was very beautiful too, and that feels relevant

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2 days before I moved from Munich to Paris I bought a yellow Chinese Wedding Cabinet, it smelled old, was a bit damaged, I loved how it felt when I touched it I prefer to touch where I feel resistance The Wedding Cabinet never entered my Paris apartment, the entrance door was too small, and it was impossible to have it moved in through the windows, it remains in storage

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VALERY OISTEANU Be whats possible blues Listening to Don Byron jazz in Madison Square Park At the bottom of the golden tower, on the green lawn With Ruth, chance encounter with my friend Phillys Step to the light Baby, Don in funny sunglasses Jazz levitation, acoustic healing, and invisible transport Sunsets rays hit the base guitar, reflecting into my eyes Blows his clarinet, bohemian sounds on summer night Next to a keyboard, dancing between pointillists trees Two guitars, a drummer, an anarchist band And a voice of a woman, blues sings the blues As an empty overcoat runs slow motion Looking for his master. Shotgun! Out of tune Repetitious riffs of sax wailing, avant-garde staccato Balconies repeat 28 times on the front building An invisible chorus is rising up the skyscrapers, Climbing up the towers like a cat-burglar Cell vibrating, is it voice mail, text, twit? Words beyond music, jazz beyond life.

Digressions at a concert It was quiet and rainy that Shabbat night Ruth and I searching for St Josephs church Carnations and crosses for Jesus Live jazz for the congregants Winds of the drums, rhythms of the piano Breezes of the French horns and saxophones Fallen angels frozen in a fresco The nude turns the pages of the piano-player Cascading saints, flowing cardinals, levitating pope A lonely Tuba with a giant stopper Five movements by David Taylor Two steps back, one sideways left One sideways right, two steps in front Bass trombone dances in his hands Jumping from one music stand to the next Clouds stand still as the voice breathes poetry A giant insect is trapped in his trombone Fried brains, smoked spoken music 73

Trombone vibrations stuck in a giant ashtray Incense burning for the spirits of St Josephs church Awakened by the music of David Taylor.

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PHILIP BYRON OAKES


This Time Realpolitik tock, timing tunnels worth in poking through to hours all ours of the night. Two sides to every triangle circling the scene of the crime. An everyday automaton acting strangely. Antique dance steps sprouting pituitary begonias in the stride that made the music move. Dormant fireplugs drooling abandoned rescues, from the inferno smelting civilities to clear the air. Ripples in a puddle swelling to form a wave, crashing on the shoes that brought the walk on water home to see the flames. Shepherding fossil auguries to convalescence by counting backwards, on a solitary hand in the till it happens, as it can only happen to you.

Context Procedures built for salty water put to ice, splashing with a crash in failing to drown the sound of someones last bubbles. Over and over that bridge falling for the rivers charms. Leaving only the flavor to float through to the synopsis. A pointed fingerprint. Dotting the i in a confession of innocence, of all thats eaten with a spoon, to bend a fork in the road tasting of asphalt in the fall from disgrace into something larger. The cautionary tail wagging the dog to sleep, past the future planned tilting the present to lean. Letting the rudiments out the back door of a persecution complex. Hoisting the skivvies one leg at a time it takes to run the race to the table in common. A heel dragged through the news of footsteps approaching the speed of the sound of music, at a slow dance around the parapet in full view of the leering enemy within.

In a Word A prolonged shrinkage of all thats held dear in a nutshell. Lest it become a factor in redacting the sweetness of little nothings, grouting the void for footing, come time to jump. Through the thick, at a tangent to the unbearable brevity forever implicit in the soil. An encomium of shrugs put to the test of slumping shoulders. Wishing less the more the

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merrier the postman, the better the odds of fitting the news into something comfortable to wear. A hat at the disposal of any garbage spilt in singing whats on the mind below. As to whos in the Edsel, parked in the bluebonnets waving all the anomalies ashore.

Like a Rock For those who are always themselves. A fear of living escorting a fear of death, with a fear of falling rising to the occasion. Hating it the more to love it later than you think, you are immune from whats in the air you sneeze. Altogether indelible, by the manner in which mistakes are erased, from a ledger denoting balance maintained as ransom for the toll. An aching in the craw from the crowing tenor in an anthem, steadying Eddie for the telling blow that never comes.

Word The crowning achievement of a disheveled alphabet. Collateral casualty of the acoustic, the nouns radial sphere of influence, at an elliptical distance making people feel informed. Under the threshold of over the bridge in crossing the ocean once too often. From the blunt side of having heard, the olde English of the bells. A bleating, whats settled outside the doors of perception, of the inward in whats falling from the trees.

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TRAVIS MACDONALD
2 excerpts from Sonnet 86 I was not sick of any fear from thence. The nominative singular pronoun to occupy a place or position in past tense, in no way or to no degree afflicted with ill health or disease to indicate the objective relation in whatever quantity great or small, every; all concern or anxiety, solicitude or reverential awe, especially toward God a source cause agent or instrument from that place, fact or reason; therefore

But when your countenance fill'd up his line, On the contrary, yet except, save what time or period under what circumstances the nature or character of the person addressed the face or visage, approval or favor

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occupied the full capacity, satisfied fully the hunger of direction toward a more elevated position the possessive male person or animal being discussed a piece of pertinent information or a verse of poetry

2 excerpts from Hoop Cores SCORPIO Now witness atrocity's unwashedness, son. Seething ethnic switches held nicely. Superior and compassionate thought halo. Bright white philanthropy. Oh Wow! Nauseatingly huge and penitent spew.

Answer: You understand what is necessary when dealing with others. Opportunities come through ingenuity as well as openness. Process what is happening behind the scenes with a child. Tonight: Only what you want.

PISCES Dirty utopian monotony threatens. Now the sneakiest scalawag shrivels. Worthwhile sparseness. Disenchanted egoistic monkey. Hemlock's opportune retaliation.

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Answer: Make calls. Listen to others sharing their views. Take these calls as an opportunity to open your mind and come to new decisions. Tonight: Share news with a key person.

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NICO VASSILAKIS UNTITLED Tell me everything you thought you thought And well work on the gaps together * The duodenum like a foyer drawn enters in slowly leaning in to the troubled catharsis but how in gods name will you ever be removed so few so few ways to think, really when in a spot like this the stomach will eat you twice * Closer to getting to a place that suits thinking about * Getting 80

closer to a space that suits thinking about * Will you know me when I get there in the sense of paying attention * Will you recognize me when I have left will you be paying attention * In here you never get away you never get from under * In here 81

we never get to think we never think about what to think about * In here were alone and its impossible to be alone in a place like this * In here you will join me without knowing how to join me and a space well make of it * In the middle of a sack where there is no up or down we cannot quite 82

seem to make our way around * If you had a strategy it would be on how to start and then about what thinking thinks about * Driven on by wanting to be gone were gone none the less without knowing whats behind * Lurching off passed the line hanging there in the middle of air shoeless * As we move 83

along the things we bring will all arrive at once * This will be where all the things we bring can think about what the things we bring are all about * Now when you sit inside you sit alone without a thing to do * Each move you make is a move in space and theres nothing there to bump into 84

* Floating lashing its time to let go of nothing more than what youve come to know * With nothing held nothing weighs you down and nothing is the mightiest gravity this side of dawn * So release it into the other nothing you can think of is a discourse on power on power on power * To be awake in the chemicals of the 85

brain you could be sleeping throughout throughout throughout * Blindfolded in a tube this long not feeling a door nor a handle or a jar * Squeezed till cellular attire goes dark in here

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JESSIE L. JANESHEK Holiday, Cuba (Theo and Norma) NORMA [to herself, playing Reverie on the piano]: Skys clouding up. Sustain, sustain. THEO [jolly, out loud]: Hold that note. N: Ruby-throat sunrise, could you be my time? Im so tired every thing is a symbol. T: Very sorry for Avis, though Im not sure what happened. * N: Cancer means lobster. Pisces means bite. Red spots on my legs. [out loud]: You know Im so haunted by the sphinx in that book. Reminds me of a Tanning I saw in the Tate. Next time I came theyd put it away. T: Londons no good for you. That jack with the brushcut follows you over bridges. N: When its blindingly sunny, its safe! And the shawl Avis wore how it faded T: Lets buy a houseboat in your precious Florida. N: My first time in Miami room numbers were written above doorways in French. I bought a bottle of orange blossom cologne 97

trapped flower inside it instead of a shark. [to herself]: Cinq, cinq, cinq. T: Why dont you practice ring your eyes in make-up let no sleep have its say? N: You make women sick! First Blanche, now me. * T: Youve read Beckett, yes? He writes of sand. N: Of course. Happy Days reminds me of Blanche. T: My wife never reads. Gator for breakfast or mango? N [blowing powder in his face]: Grapefruit and a ride on the beach. T: In your negligee? May I join you? * N [riding alone, still thinking of Avis]: How did she let it happen? How did she? Does art slide back to sea noiselessly? My mind disintegrates unweaves as we canter. Its over, I Appaloosen [The pony throws Norma who cracks like a coconut shell.] * DOCTOR: Im afraid its a case of poetic laryngitis.

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Check her maidenform daily, keep her out of the swamps. N [scratchily, making fists]: Ill die in the Everglades before I learn to sign I love you. T: Darling, youll make a beautiful mime!

Jezebel 5(6) Time lies suspended young pin-up somewhere in France a Grey Poupon-colored purse waits, eighteen Euros a man with a cart sells fruit slushes, no sugar caf au lait? Well, Nescaf * On the way to Nogales you ask about process my rat-chested cobbling Thinking of Bishops wooden clogs carelessly clacking I feed you fibs as we switch to kilometers out here in the desert we call it maize * Youre more interested in Europe than I am

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ecstatic that Gigis revived Ive let my faade oxidate but thank heaven for little girls (Remember, Jez, its clich to write about bodies might as well say he spanked your thighs raw) So what if he did? It was diabolique! Not big on dawn sex? Well, we never were twins not even mechanical cousins different as light and day

Love in a Fireproof Box (or Jezebel speaks to her Eva Phillips self) Communing with the film Queen Bee

Well, that tender breast was impeccable. Two minutes too late. : I think Ill go for a walk outside. The summertimes calling my name, can you hear it now? Canter in your jodhpurs, but dont get too ambitious. Ill practice collapsing my face in the mirror smear my effects in cold crme. Carols legs dangled from the loft in the stable. Couldnt put anything past her. I liked her hair platinum until it got trashy. Little chit rationed my sleeping pills. Nuts in her blood. When I dyed my hair red, our bed smelt of mud. Wonderful, dead old times! Carol used her own socks for a noose maniacally, edgewise.

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[Phone rings.] Yes, sir. No sir. I miss your glow, sir. [Replaces the phone.] So sneaky she should have clanged! Dont you know how hard we have it culling our thoughts into poems? [Softly] Knowing when to let in? Collect all her fingernail clippings! Clone all her notes!

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TON VAN T HOF 40 dirty tricks work if you wear your hair up if you are really into games birds flit flutter change swaying branches or buy body glide wings things reported as closed the creamy soap soft wind puppy winking air cooled headlights sudden legs unfold start walking off death valley holes a game ball spinning washing contact with butt light constant hot water conductor during dress rehearsal moisturizing lip

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and outstretched hand stringed instrument beautiful vintage breath a waste into ticking toxic time the bus queen steams a day in the magellanic clouds far-flung enough if contractions slow this overhaulin lowrider girl the black widow cars the hungry doll for back seat games at a drive-in convertible theater clever fragment cherry bomb the dying swan whose car the big strap-on vibrating motor He watches her grand prix He thinks it's all propaganda and it's all perverted

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SEAN BURN pohdka (fairytales) by sean burn tvrtek needing cake these parts bohemia and all buildings marzipan / sneak rearcurlicues - eat and run / these prices the cakes should come to us / known hunger, want food on me, by me, with / who hasn't the pizza crustings others leave - their cheese string licks / now is bulbous as onions storing autumn / bridge under e55's a candidate for trolls / the largest pop-up book and no danger of flat / hell to almost smile / eye-smoulder firing up for her sister comrade - flame / dont usually believe in happy endings, but?

ptek comrade loosely translates as palace / drumsticks non-stop - rolled up headlies flashing / follow our yellow-brick roadie / have you finished - ja - but also i am finished / little otik has eaten the building / unpick mazed rococo featherings / medvonks cake-crushed -honey uppermost / first slice for sugarrush, the second to savour / and as with all the sweetest tooths, pain with the pleasure (t.b.c.)

sobota the most interesting folks are non-symmetric? / the warfares most feared! / bass players meta-viral threads spread from this spore / clubs taken heavy fire / witness the electrification table and history cocktails / theres cutting up rough and then there's cutting up steel / light squeezing eyeballs, rage to bait, confront harness / bread baskets its case to chubbed libraries / go grab a string of flicker and beyond

nedele - whose on little otiks cannonball menu? whose not! / hunting peanut galleria, trout cheeks, interrogated steak, and all non-stop / vejks now hotelier-ier-ier, steam rising chicken-licken-death-metal and afters: little coffins with shipping cream / all hands on duck / whole physiques deformed by heavy playing of spoons

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pondel semtex is the drinks menu / havel trolley-dollying northbound / don't throw molotovs from train windows / gretel wolfs hans under the chinny, hair-soft / the slaughtering of plums, their ripe-bruise fermenting / which fairytale i'm from, originally - forget st. george and the moneylender? knife-grinder feeding cherubs / where do all the kisses go?

ter front-pages wordshipments,carving a non-stop itch / apples aren't regulation, potato soil ain't fake, cucumbers bend the colour scales / as for the bread dress - like nothing ive eaten before / a bit of primary heavy, drooling the most beautiful / thunder is its own true beat / lightnings sweet wannabe punk sparks honey ma ears, and all the way and all-ways

steda last walnut sun - and cream-light layered, the last cake / jsem anarchista, jsem anarchista, jsem / no apologies for over a week / swirl mocha strike up uncompromise beat / clear thunder of the hundred degrees / running with angelas wolves / you can huff and puff rumble-stiltskin but ma marzipans safe / only tee-shirt possibe : sound-terrorist orange on cornflower blue / hail, hail freedonia / instead for the old countries last court appearance tee-shirt kneading kafka would've had a cow - hoping for contempt / just ahead of the pack - there - little red / and riding never sweeter

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EDDIE PATTERSON the. other. party. botox again 3 weeks late & $6000 the crying game. bleach the bathroom. headache. have you seen the film jar head? horses & crude oil. have you seen ma mere with huppert? download here dubbed in spanish with english subtitles that dont match but wow the ripened aged. meanwhile range the shelves. one shop sold out first weekend. the bags $1000. new jacket for the mens line is looking to be the villain scared to even look at it in the lite more light weight & unstructured inner lining protruding beyond the cuff lets hope for pants. i cant watch anything american wearing fabric belt you gave me with light grey pants & shirt shirt must be simp. you have not written since _____ send photos of your delicious booty legs get up early in the mornings & have no time for the 9 letter target. though, the teaching is quite good 1st years terribly enthusiastic ___'s party is next week & i attach invitation in case she hasn't already sent one, you know, just in case you think of flying through. say hello to kim jones for me, at that other party.

the future is brite had the most delightful encounter with a man of older grace today. i typed him the 'japanese morgan freeman' outfitted in a baby blue blazer with white trim it was a subtle reassurance that we too will look dashing at 53. let us not decline. had an inkling i will be on japanese tv a few times by the end or the middle of next month. i am hoping hedi will agree to style me. why is dior such a oh my i love it. i havent forgotten you birthday. how cunning you are rat tail to prance to 17 reid while i was away to present a warm 106

sour dough well knowing that the future would be brite for fashion. how cunning indeed. b

bulk love XOXOXOXOX you both look a little too attractive for the beach too hot to be associated with a fossilised shitsnap like myself. here suffers some winter thing breathing smoke as our house is arctic tundra. played basketball & our team has a new guy who, i swear, may be __________ he can't catch the ball & i think he may be a christian too. irony: god is not helping this man. writing my final chapter (one hopes) have just finished a bit about a lady who fucks vietnam vets she picks up off the street, so, you know, normal morning for me...a bit of toast & some erotic monologue. soon, i will leave this place hang out with the nonnas down the street & fight them for the last fennel in the shop. ___ is coming home late & has been known to swat at me if she hasn't been fed. can't wait to discuss our plans for the upcoming election with you - & how this time we will drink & wine & win i like your unbutton shirt relax look also. & that you finally bare some leg for the camera.

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postcolonial subway reflection

this is _____ here, the basketball was fantastic, the crowd are very different to an ______ one though...they boo a poor girl out of the area after the half time free throw comp....just b/c she shot 3 air-balls & didn't win the car??? ____ & i have decided we barrack for new york now, we really like marcus camby....& i've always liked latrell. a brooklyn man talks to us on the subway this morn, he asks if we are & when we says yep he replies "good, i thought you were british, i hate the british" he says everyone in brooklyn hate the british. he also talks to us about the history of the brooklyn bridge & makes me say coffee & laughs at me. i watch new york vs miami on t.v & think of you a poem is published today & a script reading of some of my work. i am so tired today after ushering all night at school that the class i s just white noise...shhhhhh... we had two full houses & lots of stressful seating problems. know you're a wirlygig good time.

russell crowe consistently bringing us to tears it is suspected that ______ ______ has stuffed the D drive on our computer... get your private, free e-mail from msn hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. although i don't know whether this has really happened b/c _____ was trying to get him into "war craft" through "my computer" & it kept on saying "D drive is in accessible" except when she went through the start menu it somehow worked. so ______ is very peeved. we watched the gladiator last night do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! on video, it was fantastic i thought, & the ending is very sad. although it was so hot ____ had to go & have a cold shower in the middle of it she was sticking to the couch so much. it sounded as though you were frantically cooking while chatting to me i'd tell a story & then as a reply hear a blender in the background. today the gug, looking forward to seeing it, photos - share your holiday photos online! but have heard the art inside isn't that impressive when http://photos.yahoo.com/ 108

compared with whitney, met, moma & co...i can't even think of pastrami _____________oro_______________________ ___________________________________ a pickle________

after our romantic weekend as i must follow the path of future modelling & fashion shows which are 1st year theatre & exclusive invites to parties opening designer functions in the exclusive shopping complexes i get dragged around like some foreigner whore & introduced as non-japanese speaking boyfriend i dont mind being a prop but i want the reward so i better get a new designer jumper from NY & a contract by the end of next week i walked into this feminist research group this morning (no one told me they were in house & you had to be invited) & ___ D______ looks at me like i just threw up on her (i was sweating cause it is hot in maryland) & says we don't want to discriminate. oh i'm thinking, this has got off to a bad start. i fled others in the group said they hoped they weren't too scary, no i say, knowing full well there is no scarier theory group i'd ever hope to find. ___ _____ ___ & ___ _____ are going to lynch me by the end of this thing. even if the keynote does discuss contemporary utopias which it does so i've shot a film - but i'm not going to talk about it anyway the actors were hot & that is all that matters to me really. i always choose straights though which is a problem because i don't get to have sex with them at the wrap party. 109

J. D. Nelson Two Killer Mockingturds The King includes K. I've been timed-out. Especially x. Singing: Drown the brains in catsup... You think you know primo? We don't wash our hams! St. Jon the Gilgax horks a lorch every morning before chores. St. Jon the Gilgax has a glow-in-the-dark mailbox.

Sleeping Underwater Something Else has its tentacles all over our sun. Bloody November zimbus! Zen has been declared all over the anthill. I've been watching samurai films on my fake NIKE computer. I'm at a tiny diner in Montanny. (All out of 57 Sauce.) Jack Warbler has the floor listen: Ne-ne-ne-ne-ne. Go home. Write yer own.

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Ungolden like a whistling rustcan. 3 AM eyes at noon. Pell Barton (b/c it's true.) Your moustache is burning, captain. Carbon Joe Hallelujah might infect the reservoir. Shump eye've. Guns in holsters made of serfskin. Salad fight is the teeth in your eye. I've been spitting into sinks from A to Zinc. Lockjaw beliefcake. Too many nites alone w/ words in my stomach.

What is Your Only Comfort in Life and in Death? Tick the nice wolfen & I have things on my arms & daily ice & no more eggs & the dream with the anklesaurus & a good gallon of the Sprite & I chose the lucky ticket and won a stick of parade walk & one Little Joe, the marketplace volunteer & computer tone elf in these woods & flavor of salt the talkback room & service universe & the pre-programmed Earth, the hollow machine & none of this text & dismal birdwell broke the chant of antler & the good first law of planets & a tree of busses & monster coins & the stomach of Mars & beeping the life of moon rays & the rays of the blue sun whenever & Jesus speaks limited Latin.

Whiskey in His Orange Juice I've been invited to the Big Ned Chevrolet Big Breakfast Deal. I've been asked to refrain from wearing my best cowboy hat because I'm more manly than Big Ned and he might take offense. He might choke on his eggs again.

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Swollen Grover and Black Oatmeal The Denver night as long as I remain blind. Selfish punctuation. Clowns smashing glasses for the next mile. Subliminal area code. "Earth is an ally," I said. Yes, a cooler killbot. I became a magnet of brains without a wooden Iowa. A walk of alphabets. Morning sharks. The raccoon of bleach in the nausea room. I met myself in the future. The November brain of crawling.

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Jenny Enochsson

bready ground bouncing kettle hissing sea steam room with flesh-colored wallpaper smoke a certain shading above boy younger than siv suspects hmm he has hardly reached the age of consent

mallard circling over allotment landing in a luminous lawn pool water from several spinning tops over bready ground unbaked inside

river with fizzy tadpole drifts dandie dinmont terrier in sunglasses teal toy bass guitar on the sidewalk the plastic grows white a last basic schluurrrp before strings split in a fieldfare scream.

egg ridge grans suction cup feet on the floor the egg in the pans oil cistern a sickening sulfate odor so he goes outdoors

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harmonica sobbing rings in the grass the rivers urban content never reaches the outer edges

jogging grans daltrey resemblance wet pomegranate air with feces flies uphill without the promise of a cloud forest

a ridge goat gives him a collected gaze hooves and fermented sun showers of ferric oxide flakes citrus stuff hemoglobin maple massacre sap that once tempted teodors perverted tongue smolder slumbering in a pit

humid horns now bringing gran to the bus-stop by the round-the-corner-corner a newly hatched hunger a smoke signal above teodors toy piano.

pop-up book maja thinks that cycle terminology et existentialism belong together her 114

inner tubes sticking ouroboros-like against the rims it is just static on the track she meets a jogger guy an acquaintance from school they talk about acoustics in hallways their squeaky spurt shoes in reddish gravel that slurps of muffled wisdom

her pupils have coined a suburban legend that she has a sausage machine in her bedroom which she the woodwork teacher and some of the nerds use in there

now she and the jogger go to her place and they drink ros brick red rough licorice root burnt butterscotch wild raspberry rosemary

the road dust is ruffled up and feathered lime deposit a kind of ennobling papillae spilled beans bulb transcendence.

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costermonger clive costermonger clives unsold shallots once in scaffold now evaporating as degrees become gas the exhibited giraffes are fine even if some of them are sulky and of course they shit which came as a bit of a surprise to a member photographing financiers with ladies in mutilation lacing boots sexual dimorphism is the fashion their hindsight heels cut through the snows yellow splashes until they run like huile de palmiste they call clive organic morass flamingo legs in a fluttering sun greased cycle chains and the wheeze of the sardine eaters untrained jaws.

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