The Experioddicist #8 June 21. 1995
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make contact at BugsD@ aol.com , or via the snail at
9th St. Laboratories, P.O.Box 3112, Florence, AL 35630
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POSTYPOGRAPHICAL
Beyond the Gutenberg Galaxy
By Fabio Doctorovich
(f.doctor@chem-mail.gatech.edu)
THE RUTH AND MARVIN SACKNER ARCHIVE
OF CONCRETE AND VISUAL POETRY
On that morning in Biscayne Bay, I was surrounded, spelled, minimized by the
impossible Sackner's archivehouse, the largest collection of verbovisual
imagery in the world -at least 35,000 books as well as 15,000 other works-.
On that morning in Miami Beach I rang the bell, and when the door opened
there were no words to describe because words invaded me, subdued my
insignified visualpoetic soul and showed me with Their grandeur all the
colossal works I never created and never will be able to. NOT after the
Archive got into me with its power and fury. Their whole house -because the
Archive is the Sackner's home- has been conquered. Invaded from the ground
level living room to the first floor master bedroom and even the hallways and
bathrooms by written carpets and verbal paintings and worden clocks and
poetic sculptures and more and more: words, books, symbols, languages,
signifiers. LIKE A SYMBOLIC FOREST CONSTRUCTED BY A LEGION OF POETS. And I
should say: all we visually oriented poets shall visit that hexed house. But
I will say: we shall get bewitched by its energy and shall realize how
minuscule our works are in that context were the uncontrollable visualpower
of words and symbols manifests in all kinds of sizes and shapes, from the
microwritings of Enzo Miglietta to the huge Paul Laffoley's 5x18 feet Dante's
Divine Comedy triptych or the more-than-300-original pages of Tom Phillips'
transformation of a found Victorian novel: "A
Humument". And it was a retrospective exhibition of Tom Phillips' artworks
along with the "discovery" of Emmett Williams "Anthology of Concrete Poetry"
that would lead Ruth and Marvin Sackner to realize that those intriguing
fascinating works that they had been collecting for five years were
nothing else but visual poetry. Of course, such an immense collection does
not include poetry only but also works that are better characterized as
visual art that involves the use of symbols of some kind. But then: who cares
about classifications when we can barely breath through that thick
verbovisual atmosphere, when we are euphorized, paralyzed, slenderized by the
sight and touch of those unattainable works?
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BUT THE GOD
by Jack Foley
I too had come from Crete
rainy, truncated
heating
skimpy table
great terraced plain
underneath, the
objectify its
fears
pediment
with Apollo commanding them
darker,
& filled
"even this will
change"
6/16/95
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UNAMBIGUOUS EGGS (opening sections)
by Jim Leftwich
warm reading invoked disarmed by mirrors. eyed a swarm of whough. severed
the open between, minds surprised near replied clouds. resting thread-thin
aches what river invades blue nourishment as method. metay, you've had
enbody's rule. eerie composed of open bits.
sealed sustain astonishing burn. herald migraine through reclined field.
domma star with claws. fractured iduble exposure of the soluble thunder.
coea clogging the intersections body. sidereal kebzeh called lyrical
beginning.
open ground blurs whected, scoring noplanation beole clesence around crearors
are never groups it cautures. urban horses music. maps authar thunder.
curve nightmare mouths grind voice meaning poem intends unformed poet.
excause gasoline, esority resurrthing, locked into us.
suspended notes travel outward. barrsible road numbers itself. sleeping
white liziers are nothingness, their thoughts others suffering. irrespurring
shape equonards hateelf, made pa shown recally nam raction. occener lost,
torurred. gathering locuratgic acely. billow inescapable allowances
multiple crystalline equations. built yours percan voice. abstrsections
somplo lared mysteries, a gard tured credit, twin inteing darkness, muses now
uneelation.
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ELEPHANT HEAD: OPENER OF DOORWAYS
by Michael McClure
GREAT GANESH, WITH YOUR SINGLE TUSK
AND CONCH SHELL IN YOUR HAND,
what is on the other side
of the Blackness?
What is not there in the non-dimensions,
in the nothing stuff, when it is freed
of the weight of our fistfull of senses?
What is the rosy musk of the other
side of our eyes and brain
preceding the fantasy of quarks and the rivers of novae?
GIVE
ME
A
trillion senses
to bite it all like a blackberry
and find the seeds caught
in my teeth.
When I spit, my sputum
will be the colors of it.
I know when I laugh
it rings
in
me.
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SPRING BUDS THIS TO ME
by Dan Raphael
we have twice as many
joints,
the air is three times thicker; my metabolism makes you all
slow as the light shifting
blue cigarette mist
pirouettes from fingernails
displaying cyrillic information,
cuneiform advertisements for weather balloon implants
below the continental church
50 fathoms within two mountains up
We would want our blessings without fat or radium,
we would want sleep to be sudden deep and educational,
kittens like electric violins,
a giant hand sewing
phosphorescent ellipses wink open the air, the moon
my eye leaches on, a light my hands first see landing like owls
whose talons extend below the earthworms' body-shop
rebuilds another calender regular as lava currents pixillate
cumulus bingo
inject with steam with better posture,
clay so infused with tea our erudite thighs steam forth
unhoneyed elixirs and poultices,
oil removing pigments
pressed between bricks of yeasty telephones
so small the lettuce is a lying carpet
in a sky wide as my kitchen wall removed by thousand pound
watermelons
sleeping like pink spermicide
like golden spun sugar
won't let the sun go home without signing my hungry cast,
one femur at a time,
one nocturnal rheostat bends together
bass fiddles spines oboe ribs bird wing guitars.
saxophone boomerangs expand the hips into ears
multiplying like puffballs with so many different flavors and
velocities
this body no longer my home:
should i fly or teleport?
my
temperature rising
like sweet motor oil
i'm giving my eyes their freedom:
two trains up an oak tree's vertical delta strain the sky's mud,
bottom feeding sea gulls,, nimble as a bumblebee
but 6 feet long interrupts this slather of unnatural sunlight
choosing so many dancers with chairs of bone, of pvc pipe,
of trees about to
sprout,,
chairs barely containing thunderstorms of visceral insects
take the breath out of our neighborhood
siphoning espresso from our subcutaneous root cellars, nerve
endings
splay the sky with lightning pollen
we surrender the virus of our identities to
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Western Unique E-Mail
by Benny
Jake,
Received last communique'Opened up a store on Hiyasenthe
streetSell junk to kidsOld Atari equipment laced with
adrenalineDon't tell mamamoousays the children are in bondage,
dangerous citizens in the night's veinI've also been told to inform
that tonight at Marty's bra angels will danceWhata bitchqueen
helloh
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TO INITIATE
for MK
by Steven Hirsch
Crack the Ouija master quiz of this life with
carnelian fob initial - melted wax to seal papyrus over
iron chain
sent to a strange pinespace on high mesa by
destiny whiplash -
native messenger whalloped from behind by wind
survival panic anger leads to
a hunger for wisdom in retreat, carry water
Dakini wields vajra tonic in a skullcup
Domo Arigato Onegaishimashta
Sake warms the bones - cools the mind
whatever fulfillment means is null and void.
Pluto roars January as accomplice to initiate
New Year welcomed from within a ringing bell
protected by a lion breathing into the mouth of Horus
curling flame of burning fatwood
natural master releasing the verbhouti and churned cream
of the listening hour.
How many returned ones are burning
in this purifying fire?
death of the one self
by sculpted axe to initiate
children performing divinations on one knee
carpets of rice and red sand define the universe
a giant sun
blinks through
thin streaks of clouds
your heritage is gone again
the only returning
is to a path with heart
well worn, crunching over
leaf and needle on
twilight mountain
frozen in seeking
to settle deeper in
to its valley suite
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from PROTERON HYSTERON
from Part Two TALK MEAT
by Harry Polkinhorn
1
soft their promises of banquetingxfeast of lights, left overxit being
created-- a specialx backward explosion of crazyxso then Lent, its
simulacrumxwhile a chorus of hopefuls, whilexmen presupposed as the orderx of
things, great grinder tenorxaffirmative of rabid death wishxEurope? the
Indian? different lostxlanguages and codes and systematicxsummaries
(Engel)--xa closed doorxa song nostalgically
2
there not beingxabsorbent, high-flyingxor what you would callxperfect little
panachexI took assessment, foundxmyself outxthere awash, onxmy back to
seexwheels of huge starsxstunning
3
a direct invocation--the best partxstill a partx from pollution-dramatic
sunxsets or a sensexthat jets, jails, azurexlast minute ploys for usxthey
say, "Notice me!"xalike woe-begonexHollywood rejects, sodaxfountain
hopefulsxfoundered precariouslyxon the merest chancexof a bit part in
naturexwhizzzing away toxanother city
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3D JESUSES
by Hugh E. L. Rozelle
Neon Messiah electric
Waterslide moonwalk,
Dial a profit success n life soul
Sculptor bumper sticker
Rockets redglare flame
Leatherneck Yaweh
Tee shirt napalm blood hell avon
Jesus Christ Superstar
Diamond pennant sport scar
Rubber stamp virtue
Blood turns thin
Flounce the external
For what lacks from within
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MAGDALENA
by (travischaney;)
royal (i'd say)'s
her (tempera)mental substance.
a joy(i'd say)'s
whatitis to encounter her penetrating still.
the graydays (when
ourgoldsunfire
is white whith less intensity)
hold me to my blandeur
if i had no
magdalenamagma
(who cares to glow her glow in the same room as i).
(i'm but a peasant toosmall in her pleasantease.)
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WHAT SHALL I DO WITH THE EXTREME FEELING
by Ann Erickson
associated with your shoulders
& head across the marketplace
shall I stitch up the sky bind oceans
needlework of hyacinths
like blood very blue dark blue
photons engraved on
eyelids of baby mice orris root sand
each particulate second filtered
shifting seeds
what sonnets are when the sun is gone
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from AUTOSCRIVE D'FICUS
by Ficus strangulensis
And I slide slightly as mud congeals to a more beige than gritty. His alone
shines to a pulpy nearness made as mean as plantago. A wily old lizard pouts
from nicked walls all the while being available for outrun-the-scryer matches
hastily convened in a shim warehouse. Silly as sand.
*****
A ladle hangs against nailed birch. No pattern to the nailing or ever
canoes. Musty to a trumpet sounding ropes' red. Dragged back by force of
his will, a snail recoils in limp folds, climbing half-old grass unable fully
to appreciate his mass for being host to no mannerly creature. The limit of
this behavior can be called sodden. True, it begins as soon as
the rope be pulled and ends... never. My information can only approach
Truth from a position of entropy.
*****
If kept truly to path marks as soon the vapors detect his foot markings, my
house a shell overhead. A weight to be held. A black tail from dust or the
kindly minister who played deadman come along. Voiced more as question,
plain words infect my ear. A surf of small objects, each definite but
altogether given as clues or for birth-pangs and daemon lists.
The handle can be sea cleaned as well the footguard be ahead of bucketing
loss. Lost for days in circles at pins or cornered eyes, pulling from the
strengths characteristic of others' ideas. His teaching lasted nearly a
minute as well as cliche. A momentary circle could expand to include several
strands and cleanly forget even more. Hums of leafy dinners persuaded her
family to continue the experiment even at no natural costing.
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SYMPTOMS AND SIDE EFFECTS OF URETHRA ADDICTION
by Chris Mansel
Massive brain dysfunction in children
lack of attention span
impulsive distractability
abnormal neurological signs
the chronicity of psychiatric disorders
induced spiral and agitated schizophrenia
meticulous dispensing of Urethra during the first trimester
rubbed briskly into the gums
Dryness of diarrhea causing impotence
poisoning depression and barbiturate intravenous dialysis
abdominal nausea and cramps
fetus abnormalities such as unexpected bleeding or hanging
by the umbilical cord
childbearing lactation and anorexia
oral inhalation of cord blood and crystallized breast milk
powder
excessive aerosol laced syrup vomiting
prolonged use and intimidation of sympathetic nerves can cause
the addict to grow numb
calcium withdrawal
anal asthma
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FLAME
by John M. Bennett
PEAKED
Your belly churned lard bombed lap conscious turned
face thought-wrist resealed's moot linking (healed
last your flow toward getting up, dripping window
glass) breath congealed slow nose comb peeled
rests's floor (your task ignored sipping cup (bent
sword's glow past the wheel you were thinking
boot's real list's clots, place learned (cautious
hat thumbed hard, your curt bell's door
LEAK
LAND
You carried far, tested snow, strings of consequently
webby air, she breathes, fuller space behind (bushes
nodding) pantsed knees in mud all was holding chairs
and jars faces grew rings of constant heavy hair
she (wreathes, pulls her place through mind's brushes,
odd slants, bees and blood's fall, floods molding in
her hands
CALL
EAT
Stern-blouse, cracked content, route. Yearn sleeping
walking through. Burnt lids, temper tampered,
tantamount to deepened show. Match to curtain
changing same sheet flickered. Catching dust, flame
returns, gate.
What the spill revealed, drifting toward your plate
CHAIN
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USHIO SHO
homage to Ushio Amagatsu
by Greg Vincient Saint Thomasino
distance
image
dance /
dance
image
painting /
(think / of a pre-historic / comes to mind)
drawn
other / than language
(as if/hidx)(other than / language)
cave
(I see it)
cave
(flat/splits/pro-jections/ rock)
pass my eye
the painter
in the cave
(with the painter)
the painting
drawn
(memories / copy of the world)
images
(directly)
standing in the cave
face to face with (a) wild animal(s)
Me
(chases / watches / me chasing)
passing
Me
(distance)
Me
(sees / listens / seeing / to look)
(I)
recognize
(I)
react
(I)
stop seeing / to look
the cave
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UNTITLED
by Peter Ganick
They now need full name
and fleeting
accompanying a new utensil
Proboscis attitude
surly deafness on rowdy kick
A polished expansion cheap
cheerful endeavors like the weight
savvy to surcease
The pristine nowhere
nothing nothingness
mortal inquiry right in the window
Excision of the shredded lion
a policy for paper zoophobic
animus etiquette
versatile likable boundless ink
Nantucket forced a return
promises to flee the trick sharpener
a rodeo languorous to touch
Needled and attitudes shape
whiz a procedure nobody so big
Mammal on the surfactants
crowded slip tenacity
getting to knowledge and imagine
how they bleed served licorice
to dogs intangibly read
through
wherever acausality is thanked
Prosperity entertains all circumstances
too hot and cold in variety
motion for the clipped sandstorm
all a disguise
for unseemly timing
almost the dolled up
hassle on productive listeners
television attrition
Swarm here and there
vacillates warpath sundown
echoes
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THE BOB SHIEFFER FAN CLUB NO. 4339(WAS BIRTH 2)
by Malok
It's too easy, Baby. It would be pure slaughter. Are we in space?
FLING-NOODLES OF OMNIPOTENT WAS. SPROCKENS: when you goin' to build that
positron destimulator? I won't wait forever. I'll be gone before you are
dead. AND BOTH OF US WILL BE GONE. A red cross flames into my heart. The dog
barks like a chainsaw. I get up and down, eh? I could see your pretty smile,
ghosts spit there:Babies? THE DAZED AND WOUNDED BIRD RECOVERS ON THE
PORCH........JUKA'S NOSE SCRATCHES THE GLASS. I leave the can(s) unopened.
SEE! It was stunned. EXPLODED CIGARS BOOST THE HELIUM JEEBY-FREABIES RATING
BOAST! Think. Twice. Thrice the matter consciousness into ostensive perks,
urk. You wouldn't even know it! THE BIRD-FLU, AWAY: NEUTRON CLOUDS DREAM OF
BLOOD! Every god has to wipe his/her own asshole(asses physically an
atrohbeaute of hue Eaptahtah) ........ I rejected the Revenge-BalmPalms in
the repeating time patterns and hung my shredded fingernails on the Apex
Portal. It is your birthing! BUT!!! WHEN ARE THE BEES!? On this, not flat or
round, the rain is not wet, the plop of the yurd not heard, fear to spurt and
a white room of bare demented! The grammar processed thru the BOUNCING
IDIOT!? SHETAY-BLAU! IT ONLY RAINS IN THE AFTERLIFE! SHIT SMELLS! the graves
of Mellow Martians, sing? QUASSA NOVA!
May 22, 1995
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RE: SOUNDINGS
By Jeffrey Little and Jim Leftwich
fist of hearts speech of dice hidden in the cellular monastery
amphetaminefogpearls gloom in the blistered night of a ouija brainprint chain
gang of clowns chasing gill slits coming up sevens & smiling the discharge of
a magical alphabet journey of heathens ravine lip vulture sensorium w/the
tail
feather aperitif engrams crossing continents in pretzel carts anima catkin
anthem emanates atman patina alert carp enatic lawn clear lapse crazed easel
lattice rapt pact jangled bough glass eye am krishna-on-a-rope of 3 rings =
other visitation cargo empath non-euclidean furls burnt in sulphuric
jazz folds stretched into a squeeze the turbulent algebra of breath
cannabalizing a construct's faltering exhalation end table colloidal culvert
singed recognitions beyond baking soul discharge the tidal prayer of salted
light dark as the hymn of blood voiced bulbs tracing a rhythm's void the
plasticity of pulse vestigial coursing metastatic outback alone in
transfinite doubt maternal puzzles elixirs labyrinth bird's oracular blossom
cult of axon looms grid of sinews golden reed grousing cables piped through
steel lifting essence to infrastructure the upright posture instilled in
spades flesh spoken fish mathematics neural memory of circled sparks coiled
voice trained to a trellis of flame uttering anew the fission of the tongues
since tundra
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ON EXPERIMENTAL POETRY
by Michael Basinski
My first though on experimental poetry is that it is hardly experimental
enough. There is far too little pushing and pulling and manipulating of
literary boundaries in the realm of the poem. I think that this is the result
of poetic careerism. Some of our best and potentially brightest poets are
more concerned with prizes and photo sessions than poetic limits.
Experimental poetry is left to poetically positive outsiders, radicals, and
eccentrics, and to the poets from the working classes or from working-class
backgrounds. Fortunately, at this time this is a fantastically rich loom of
writers who are not rich or suburban in mentality. There are two veins of
progressive marginal writing. There are those working with the visual and
aural potential of poetry and those pushing the moral content of poetry -
that is, those engaged in writing about the body (particularly anything that
has to do with human sexuality). Interestingly, both of these forms of
writing are locating their audiences in an increasingly growing non-literary
community. That is to say , there are non-poets listening and reading poetry!
True, it is a small audience, but real, and it is now as it has not been in
the near past. Experimental poetry is therefore a populace event. People are
interested in it! Experimental poetry has made the poem again an exciting
experience. And it must continue to do so. It is something that titillates
the senses (as well as the mind). A poetry slam is as experimental in
presentation as a performance in a dark, obscure gallery. Experimental
poetry's mission is to engage the ordinary (this means ordinary people and
ordinary readers too!) and make poetry alive again to those beyond the
egg-head world of too much of modern poemitry.
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