The Experioddicist #5 THIS FILE WILL TAKE APPOXIMATELY 5 MINUTES TO DOWNLOAD WELCOME TO THE EXPERIODDICIST #5. Please address all correspondance and submissions to this e-mail address or 9th St. Laboratories P.O.Box 3112 Florence, AL 35630 A print version of the Experioddicist is available for $1 at the above address. It is different from the electronic version. For the next 12 issues focusing on single contributor issues including Joe Speer, Dan Raphael, Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino, Susan Nash Smith, Al Ackerman and others. Apologies this issue to Robert Sward for not being able to publish more of his poetry. This is all that made it through the wires. The Valla Problemata (FCLC Mix) - Gregory Vincent Saint Thomasino Show me the geometer's points, lines & surfaces! (nowhere to be found....) Happy & beautiful & without thought of daily- affair.... (sometimes too palette pink & blue?) The distance of lines & angles... the shame & anger in the looks of a man.... & How my blushing gladness brrrrrrrrings.... V. practiced ventriloquism by talking with figs in his mouth. His wealthy father said, "That is impolite." He thought to spit them out, but thinking twice, he swallowed hard.... V. is doing Mahler, V. is doing Liszt, V. has little Timmy on his hip. Timmy says all men are Finnegans, and whiskey is the water o' life. Timmy says the Irish have the gift of song. (Why then are there no Irish composers?) V. Knows the power of recaptured memory V. Knows the satisfaction of the instinct V. knows eternity, androgeny & the senses of Orlando V. knows the science of the impossible V. knows Charlotte Rampling & Dominique Sanda V. knows Liliana Cavani & Oriana Fallaci & all V.'s man's men are Hemingway ************************************************************ from DAYS - HANK LAZER 18 hello technicians of approved emotions a run of one-eyed dog paws back door who will do your fitting bob tell our contestants in light of new hubble data re figure the big bang what they've one 19 from inside the work how hip it is don't matter diddly shit pulse passes fair full fathom five her brown eyes stare advocates of a written medium convene speak adverbially among each other 20 felt there curved earth cable to con struct fair medium meat hook hands stares down rapt well vision addresses the ball starts back eyes ever more intense father son wholly goes 37 existence in the abstract makes some sense but not when set among actual events greed deliberately misleading rhetoric murder and broadcast fascination detailing the failures of the already falling fallen 38 it is as the year turns time once again for the anonymous dead to vie with the spectacularly so the historically so and the quiet or noisy suicides to make their case so attune us to what's already in store 39 with each definition of ouch this is the burden of thought to feel but not to go anywhere to make a temple in the ear here amidst the infinitely nuanced beings and there where monk makes (and lets be silent) exact & infintely variable particulars of human specific rhythmic insistence ************************************************************ Relenting - John M. Bennett RELENTING Distill, nation, taster loops o peering buckets damp lint ticking hole your fingers scrabble nuggets glisten undernail the index rises, your ticsy pall whole spinner squabble fills, aching, festered shoes or steering "luckless" flat limp licks tubs (risen thunder) pails, excised, all that wading's PROOF EXCISIONS - JOHN M. BENNETT Does the comittee was its heads in a bloody sink? Does the desk think of sand while it's burning? Does the bathrobe sever its wrists in the freezer? Does the basement sample its radon with an open mouth? Does the banker fester when its bratwurst sweats? In a sock? Where the pages useless in brine? Does the chairman master her pens when the windows sleep on the floor? Does the shorn? Does the lip? Does the arm with its curls of glass? LOW THUNDER - JOHN M. BENNETT Was I drinking the shoals poor I was I holding the list was I head inverted in your pool's thought was I tooling conversion of bread was I staining the phone in my armpit's stream was I barfing the boney chain was I peeling the sky from my face on my back where ther gate of my eye was reeling was I moored in the closet's steam, sacks of cream deposits, the blinking floor my UNDERTOW ************************************************************ She Has a Good Head on Her Shoulders - Carolyn Steinhoff Smith A bottle of vodka looms over you Seems that nothing can beat it A mind can't be tuned like a string It isn't that your arm isn't alabaster It's that this is the best life to rip open the bud and see how the petals are folded into their brief case, what color they are If they have beaks or tentacles if they can assuage a stone without weight light as a spring Day Rope tying you to the dock of no imagination Your robe is the rope tying you to the back of rolls for dinner Socks, breakfast flocks, born baby unthinking, light as a weathervane the ex poster boy of the not sewed up free strapping is easy to say but hard to do "the arms" is hard to make out But just stop at the sign Stock still as the whistle of a train kept in the dark by the congress Until spring When everything but your chair Slides away You are not loosed from the earth but still You are tied to a package Her pipes have a mystical aura in candlelight, Brought about chiefly by a letter Requesting a donation to the so inclined foundation of Brighton County by midight or we'll be swept away on a tide of bees Sent by God. Who has ever heard of such things? Out comes the admission price of a ticket Like the sun from behind a cloud tapestry: Yes, I whitewashed the clothesline And the drier." Some things cannot be bought. Taking it into something holy Flagrant violations of all pigs that talks over the back fence Root about with dirt-caked snouts Counting syllables like mushrooms, Blackening her upper lip. ************************************************************ LULLABY - Robert Sward Rockabye dust in the mourning cradle, rockabye soul in the lowered box, rockabye stone on them all, and flowers, rockabye, rockabye, rock! ************************************************************ from STANZAS FROM DJERASSI - Jack Foley what reason do we have to move from one word to another? (that is the point of "inspiration"-- the mind so agitates it doesn't question it just) what does it mean to be in a "radical openess" in a state in which "I" is nothing more than the "site" in which these-- what, here, is "liberty"?-- However, it was not only among the mass of Athenian citizens that freedom consciousness developed. Slavery had rendered the independence of the mass of native Greeks possible, not only by making them a leisure or idle class, as was once naively thought, but by making their independence tolerable to their former masters by providing them with an alternative, more flexible labor force. Cleisthenes, who had been on the loosing side in an intra-elite squabble, "took the people into his party," people whom he had "previously held in contempt." This is where the situation stood at the turn of the fifth century B.C. It was a tense moment in the history of freedom, in consciouness of it, and in the very language used to convey it. But it was a tension pregnant with enormous possibilities. Bringing the whole thing to fulfilment, the very birth pangs of freedon, so to speak, were the Persian Wars. Dream- time, she said, and climbed into bed. Lady of pain, lady beloved of Swinburne, writing verses on his way to be floged, are you here do you conduct us to the "underworld"? is it your dream that admonishes? is it you we admire in this living landscape? is it you who open your legs to the "thrust" of freedom? [(editors note: the excerpt below follows several pages after the above excerpt)] These are the flowers that grow here "This is a good place to work because one is away from various distractions (including, certainly, The Telephone) but one feels also a certain sense of exile from one's life. I like my life." These are the elegiac possibilities that define this place "my daughter's lovely face bloated in death" some deep failure at the edge of energy energy is eternal delight in Lou Harrison's music light turns into sound as she described the landscape I could sense her music a continual transformation of visual experience into auditory experience a continual transfiguration ************************************************************ SYNAPSE FONT: qua spleen - A.diMichele I. couch ("couch") sutra? (SUTTASHANK: shinto stench) turbone pas: comme qua (AS ASP) dosconch: slunt paedia fuck: kadamon-krsna kalibop: mary venison spaLogo: seedless fractal lobot: legba ennead arc tech tepid aero gram -minster hydra spac ae UberTri tych laced phlegmatics: memeisis broken config fallen prismatic angle whip sp un ob er ro to re do nE:xt mem bran rot tote + x rel AE:f bloc fontfontfontfontfontfontfontfontfont fontfontfontfontfontfontelephantfont fontfontfontfontfontfontfontfontfont fontfontfontinfantoffontfontfontfont fontfontfontfontfontfontfontfontfont fontfontfontfontfontfontfonetelefont fontphntfontfontfontfontfontfontfont ************************************************************ from Mrs. God Is Not Dead! - Ficus strangulensis MRS. God is NOT dead! Ahhhh, Godamighty I remember the old same place. Regnad Kcin stopping on Roccoco's pocket and groat cakes in 30-wt. stemming in the florary and mama, mamma's bridge club mating in the incontrovertable Quaker Oat silage hotel in Akron. Accounts of coyDog heaven scraped into mEyes yOurs all Gad's Chilleen. Sanitary pedestals pederastrian crossings are not a crossing made against grainy 400 ASA allgo pretty faster massa maloupe? Can tuna for anachrostic bred styx. Gaelic tripartite aeluminary frabjous Joyce cahuna mondo dAdA franklinstein knob-kneed crotches split tureens of soup-turtles, plinthward locked, goeth a loan. sometimes order crystallizes from a future seed. As it was sew beatitudinously stitches offspringing banded loom semenary sighted HAD a star broad... candied Aztecs in spic as tomaturretted bookkeepery of buggars alight cresting UnDundrone dunes, progluttony pragmaxis nannarie blooms, unfolds athwart the roger-jolie typo matik freeboard bilgeMlaster formed bileduct tape the same place from toadie's chapel perilous to murraine a duplex as mikey's mighty maypo could only live it or live in it. Can we get onward as a functioning bagatelle or must he take-back per diem? BuberThou goest X M'Aas passed catheter cathetim cathecthem; amo amas amant; masking duct strapping; starboard port storm. Liszt sucks. Canned spraypainting young ass for passtime while the whirled churn a grandmer monopole liza sodden heap O'Riches SHOUTed the wordy ass chairwarden highpocket laced BOOTS staunch No licker, Wodka supping past master frightwigged tailhooker boatlaunch greyfaced bootlicker as mustered so out a console aglow, orange in smoke of lip lispings limp mutter carny stuve musth mastery Magic timewastrel wigged asps harlottery or lost wax of beelzebub's champagne float, the toiletry sails, sails musty from misuse, rode hard and put up wet. AFFRONTRY Can be era oral histrionize slidey sleepered simpering saltatiously lubricious Lovecraft babe O'llogoire whose very roe we aren't fit 2 where three gather peanuts mightier than the word a sturgeon slumpd making doe wider as arches as minted shoulders, perfumed breasts of eyed madchen madly lustig seroLogic psychoLogic from trout flavored haunches, gypsy tittering muttering murthering triune paradise noic sic crab sis axis. connote dentition grinny bubbles slinger notion of long range order dropped in flavor blanded to part only to paste ************************************************************ Paisley Wrecking Ball - Tracy Thomas Screebeedeemoos crustulam phalangeemoos in the mulberry patch with five toothless pitbulls and their sluttish tricycle god, oontoor lay fwah crawh. And the slabs of Styrofoam corned beef tumble from the taxi with a shoe box full of barrettes, papilloma trinkets and uvlar watch bands. The quagnoot tu-tu and those little Cypriot birds of prey which perch on the singing Etruscan propeller blades transform harian ferretto flaguar, so mangy scarlet penguins peck the eyes of the cupie dolls of doom. Goryahmoos ratulos avec thebes are bartenders with blue bow ties, holy socks, buttonless tuxedoes, and a couple of pairs of dirty cowbells. And it was by the toowittowee beepeedee, noovootooyou, that clame bracking gree traim fuint lam, quate chorging thussle ro. Freskellaymahnt lam gwoor battalaymahnt tray twor sescilleemahnt. Glabe gallipoli and reg centurion planting sage in hell's terrarium. Big greasy things are bleating in the kitchen and green clown's heads inside these walls. ************************************************************ INJECTION-MOLD: SERIAL FLESH PEDALS ASS OVER SPEECH-SYNTHESIS - John Noto Steam-heat cored from the urge transceiver becomes the awning of your depest vision, is lipped and gorged at the abs, and fleshed vents exhale microdots; slouch your jeans down cool- you're dancing the deton-atrix; Now, the silicone crypt drag-coefficient swings, inches, pours tongue-relief figures on the small of your back, a drop in bounce light puddles caption, cues my scan language rolling the credits and a web-snake fades in the dub; hit me on the numbers; Coloring the scorchways along your ribs' lace apron, I record a spindle-grip opening, panels in the Earth's cowl; stones, debris, sweat beads fall through the Y, a film duct in the heat of prey, stalk, shape-changer on heels, the boogie-matic; Weathering, I phone up the read-only banked facial-belief agancy, eviscerate and re-stoke your life-line, long, wide-open palms on the sharp edge of a steak map we switched furtively. for brushed steel organs, the grey corpse moon slurred on a musular wrecking crane; A swathe of embedded-glass initials, slashed on the arms of the scaffold, lag-time children call in and out on the hollow form you wove to heal flayed human hair, And when transclavicle Ergs and snapdragons vie for the scruffs of our necks, we will throw into a season of abused privileges, smart-grab the lurching master-tape well ahead of clock time, juice, crash, do the tighten up. ************************************************************ JAN. 10, 1995 - MALOK A DRIZZLE OF ACID(ENTROPY BLISS-OUTINGS)ALL OVER THE BEEF-HAPPY EARTH BIRLES 'O HORVTAUS! BOOPLAT INTROSPECTION IN FOOTLOCK! NUMBER THE SWANS! BURLY THE VATICAN. FISH ASPECTS AND MCDONALD'S GOD! OMEGA ANXIOUS FIRST AND 15! I glanced towards the shafts of his eye-beams. Zeus. The light was wet. A WOODPECKER PRAYS IN THE MIDDLE OF A TEST DEATH? WINE AND RICE ON HER TAIL. Bloody loons, the ALIENS GIBBER! THEY KNOW THE MIND IS AN ASPECT OF GOD. AND THEY ARE ASSHOLES, TOO! I FREEZE MY TITS! SHIT SMELLS! MY CAT WEARS A BRA! RAMINNOTESOUNAUKA! ************************************************************ from EMPTY FULL OF KNOWN - JIM LEFTWICH window waits in thinking on a lapse. will of a thought to fold. were of the then in wind when bend. I nothing the horn it says, snake into the repetition. mention walk all caught and weight, a filled stripe jars the gaunt. seem to reed the scent bell, thinning that I collapse, a temporal tell. green window snake waits in went, thinking clothes on a lapse chop. will never a caught thought to fold the platform. I sense nothing the blue horn nerve it says would take, snake shirt into the repetition, fly mention trees, walk burning all where caught and counting weight, a bland ring wheat the knees. were of the diamonds then in wind. when bend, their blues. see to read the scrabble wrath. I thinning to tell the collapse temporal. ************************************************************ (AUTO) BIOGRAPHY - ALISON STATEMAN INSTRUCTIONS: Please find and institute the ciorrect order for the following chain of events. Alloted time : 1 hour. When I was older, I bite my mother's hand. I bite her. Hard. She creied and cried and cried. I Guilt. I Guilt. I Guilt. The first thing he said to me was: "Your hair don't smell like coconuts no more." To which I replied: "I'm older, the coconuts are gone." She was pretty enough in the beginning, just like my mother in 1957. But I have a mortgage! (Stop) Have a family! (Stop) After all these years! (Stop) Played on the softball team! (Stop) Bought the company T-shirt! (Stop) Every year! (Stop) Even gave blood! (Stop) I died just last week. It bled until my mother spanked me. There are no fathers in this story. .....tlair fo edarb murscb.......... (Note: Please descepher first before attempting tomove.) het arewns iels reeh (Note: Op cit.) "He did it 'cause he likes you." When I was born. I was very cute. I don't remember. But people tell me so. Last night I had a dream I was having a dream.....I've never been so frightened. (Decoder pens supplied upon request.) In School I was a very good student. I got all A's. Teachers wrote me love notes. I miss School. "Take off your shorts." ************************************************************ this - JONATHAN ASHWORTH calcosi led the goat to the bed its bed three dead flies white sheets straw underneath bed goat sniffed lay side did not wake under the red framed window the medium short heaired girl in a colorless dress cried unusual for her five grass blades pricked her left stocking i am the day said a birch willow sap leaking dripping from branches whips the birch willow fell to the pond in orange which all the pond turned the window connected outside to the house wood the medium short haired girl in a colorless dress palto answering her friend the person calcosi realized wood in the house fireplace fence shed carriage sleigh weathervane forest boats she stopped remembered intuitively she had swallowed as anachronism that morning but could not specifically place it well you re not a heroine calcosi said nineteen hours after a bell rand drawn by a fire engine painted green it drove through town then out did not return the bell kept ringing no one talked about it six men on a hill cut off their moustaches one glued his to a postcard returning to spain the others let theirs drop the possibility said the grackle to himself is a bird could plan a garden yes with help the goat had said no said the grackle seventy two years before siamese parrot twins had grown an orchard of raspberry sunflowers also two shining pear trees they died orchard grew feral it is ten feet away from a runway has not been found stangaanif made hay soup for ducks though at night stangaanif made duck soup for sad girls i do not understand said palto why the letters take so long the grasshoppers did not reply on windowsill the ducks are orange said stangaanif orange must be the fish but they had migrated flown away every season until none returned the steeple was increased postage reduced a town picnic held every thursday twilight now some children drew all day in school more pencils bought fish only on christmas calcosi slept the photographer felt disappointed teacup did not look right can t remember palto said mint leaves on pillow red framed window open on the hill someone embraced someone else ************************************************************ this ends THE EXPERIODDICIST # 5