D I U e m n s a i c g v r i e i n r p a s t r e i y o f a n 36.99 s 11-7-96 [ Compiler's Note: Readers will notice that this issue of DIU bears a striking resemblance to DIU 36.9. In fact, it is identical, except that the signatures have been amended. The author is not dead! Purveyor(s) of the Imaginary Universe are (en)lightening up on the policy of promoting pseudonymous or initialized writings. Butterflies within the snowflakes seek your words. --Chris Funkhouser ] The Habit of Synergy An energetic plumbed gap, awaiting. Something seeded in the head the initiation into imitation in a submissive voice the pleasure-text of this is making us slaves to leisure and each of our breathings is representative and ambiguous, a machine of varying degrees of uncertainty whose component parts are essentially forms of communication caught in culture- active tropisms to be treed and scryed and exercised, the feeling of being, aggressive intensity confused with optimism, lips a ruin, a map of damages basking in moonlight without prohibiting the situation, this illusory alternity inscribed on spiral vines, looped and lassoed. Freedom from insular occupation, a coil and a caul that contains the spinning as if from elsewhere a magnetic disturbance that calls to attention the memory server and orders a burst of visual purple that becomes its own associations at the same time inhabiting the image-nation of the other, connected to no greater power. The hook of sincerity and ambiguity dangles, fuzzy axes grappled as a ghost of itself climbs the walls and howls at the lightbulb, a sinuous shrill ululation suddenly of the moment, the habit of. --The Alterran Poetry Assemblage David J. Dowker email@example.com * Analysis of _Imagination Verses_ Jennifer Moxley (Tender Buttons, 1996) The poetics subculture may already be shell-shocked by the rapid fire accolades launched from politically pois(on)ed pens in reference to Jennifer Moxley's re- cently published _Imagination Verses_. Sheltered and out of the range of misleading glorification, however, one comes to understand that such a body of work is more accepted because of the commendable grace with which it propogates a particular style, and that its worth lies more in the fact that it feeds a stream of writing whose continuation does much to strengthen the validity and power of its originators. The unfortunate yet not insurmountable weakness in this collection remains in its leaving the reader to conclude that the experiences referenced in the writing were merely imagined, and never actually lived. With the notable ex- ceptions of "Wreath Of A Similar Year," "Lucky So And So," and "Right To Remain Silent," the work depicts a writer who like a leaf floats down a stream toward the river that gives it life. Travelling further to the river's mouth from which that life is expelled and into the sea-- the womb that bears forth all--she does not seem to notice when the tree line disappears or when the current no longer gently swaddles her. It is as if she does not feel the power of the tide or hear the waves that come to engulf her. Moxley seems to place such a vast distance between her self and the object that it limits her sensory experience and her expression of it. This assuredly has a dimming effect on the power of the work and shuts out its infinite cap- acity. Time frame, life's landscape, and creative potential are forced to wait within the work to expand, and for the poet to realize that the limits that poetry frustrates, as de- scribed in the book's Preface, are the only limits of one's own consciousness. Poetry as an art will always more ef- ficiently approach the infinite possible when the mind is no longer restricted, by the self, to building its bridges in "half measures." Many ears have been deafened by the droning choruses of media-mediated American culture. Even the vision of artists, which has always been closer to the sacred, blurs. So many that claim to be creators sit watching life beside everyone else as if they were on a sofa viewing an incidental screen over which they admittedly have no influence, feeling the distance, feeling the powerlessness, and accepting it in their minds. Moxley has visions of "Protest," of "calling in the new day," but ultimately remains lost in her own "false hope factory," seemingly unaware of her place in that great unravelling of light and dark, in burning through the wall that keeps one on the wayside. Acknowledging such a position would bring shockingly rich depth and vital newness to her poetry. I believe in the skilful seeds that lie within these verses. I believe that in them exists a desire to become deeper translations of life. I hear something in their despondency that continues to search; that will not leave hope forever, "blind as the first letter on the first stone written down." Or is it my own hope, that was not factory made, that comes to stir these words, this poet, onward. --Deborah A. Goudreault 82 Newton Rd. Plaistow, NH 03865 * GLANCES Altar altar angelic altar angelic and avail and belief days and as amulet belief be altar and by belief bursting. As flood higher belief decent altar flood elegant illumine angelic gloves fingerer gains go his avail de higher got here glances defecate. Each face esteem earth foetidly amulet. half being arraign days flood anemone duller eyes. From hollow here be d her day by have and and bursting and exists higher. --from _Codex Argenteus manuscript_ Jukka Lehmus firstname.lastname@example.org * KDIU October 1996 Cesaria Evora/ Frutu Proibido/ La Diva aux Pieds Nus Elis Regina/ Olhos Abertos/ Elis Isabel Tello Mexia/ Ita Timur Oan Sira/ Goa, Macau, Timor Hamza Shakkur & Ensemble Al-Kindi/ Meditation/ Takasim & Sufi Chants From Damascus Mauricia Kagel/ Tactil/ Exotica, Tactil Dennis Warner's Full Metal Revelutionary Ensemble/ Adam's Garden Sketch/ Watch Out! Abyssinia Band/ Yedejih Abeba Negn/ Music from Ethiopia Melhem/ (untitled)/ Noujoum Al Fan Al Arabi '95 El-Hachemi Geurouabi/ Hakmet/ Les Maitres Du Chaabi Marilyn Crispell/ Enterences of Light/ Santuerio Detty Kurnia/ Mamanis/ Dari Sunda Cheb Nasro/ El Wakhda/ Je Regrette Orchestre Baobab/ El Fuego/ On Verra Ca! Thomas Chapin & Borah Bergman/ Points/ Inversions Bernd Alois Zimmerman/ Monologues for Two Pianos/ Presence, Inter- Comunicazione, Perspectives, Monologues --compiled by Stephen Cope email@example.com * Midrash for Castleman Art, not always truth and not always the facts in the evidence of documents in five or more pieces never, never goes the rime. Not always pauses in the moonlight or frost on fingers. Never the moral equivalent of the passive aggressive tender. What happened to ruin the performance of shadows? The vision of Pound nibbling great and small Italians stays with me. A maggot of imagism, through the nations, and a fascist. Ending as truth in treason one more style of art to award ancient-looking and true. It'll take forty more years for poets to affect recycled bleached clothes rejecting his nifty coats and cravats. The unindicted criminal, of the world returning to Rapallo gave his fascist salute. What roots in modern do you remember or rethink of those pilgrims from America? Counting pants in Truman's haberdashery; later Benjamin Weintroub wrapping. Then he became a publisher. Castleman was told he should take a female name, a woman loving woman name or a man loving man name. That getting through the transom (with universal air conditioning this may be archaic usage) was hardest for a man...I said, anyway (not wanting to disagree with advice) writing is one enormous closet and he, Castleman, should not judge it too quickly. He wrote me that since he was safe and stubborn he took a hispanic name and that succeeded enough. I think somewhere he could be a female and just wasn't telling me. If poetry came in morality and in esthetics, and an occasional eccentric hints-in-cooking (speculations on noodle kugel with the promise of "taam") Castleman would be finished from the roots through the limb shade. The boldest I read once was Kenneth Fearing "Strangers in Coney Island," when that's all you could find there, any season. More like looking for bullets in the armory. The national condition of looking into the jaws of the purpose in your sight. Seeing. Seeing unfolded answers. This city has a non-danceable diamond ground. Social security flounders in trust. With a cherry tree ax Lincoln split logs into union. Invention is the necessity that is first planned and then elected equally on Monday, after Saturday, after Sunday. This guidance of the angel of death by any means: baseball in Donald Hall's view or from the border city of Konion, Poland, the ceremonial sale of children to the richer long livers who in the end are the cagey befuddlers of heaven. If he was right Castleman would've been a woman loving woman. Thanks- giving preys are shaken together. Only the still are forced to groom and spray. This is accessible poetry once-and-for-all. --Arnold Falleder 160 W. 87 St. #7B NY, NY 10024 * Unhinged Eye rug gyrating neath duh flowdoll blending bawled fry burnin duh bedding uhvuh hamshining coldly glad thereupon spring sad flag spills udduh twisters innuh eyesoup sands screechings from uh scowl crib duh hair attack cabin bawled fry burnin duh boredelloriums uhv absent where quails scobber at duh drizz franked off innuh strewsill o' lurchey Lakewood spidering lost innuh tasteywood its ants over duh noodle falls thru scotched rags o' eye screwed window leaves the great rose beaking uhv mass effervescing swimmicals across duh squeeze mink crankle peepery [ bottle sea. on duh control punelle innuh diagonies uh duh bite size in lunch garages wiff uh oratory eating newts offuh treatplate garnishing breaths hair heathering life deals o' unfocusing hashes hucked dace plunged trafficker slice root suns sixing duh sixist bluemined by swarmelly season mixings bee smegmas doltin on duckoh stix likening pancheeselle ruelish tuh lotal beak eithering sunpests when I wrenched down duh bonedaggerlush dat worm waggy night. rinked down duh backeasles bonetanglin books walking heckangles uhvuh mess anger swell manger gloomchild diagraming brain ovens uhv ultraviolet tongue tyin lamp o' retrunkflick all over duh primeval time screen pools innuh crosstrails flowshoes trickear shore innuh fix wiffuh mirror poet chased by a television duh hurtin bird that says, "Oh duh Spain in my pines!" fantasias uhv whining duh horror night uhv duh nosemuscle fish as I became angrier whiteteak man the motions uhv worlds blockcagey youcan'ting oysterfull clocking scoops o' whisker watchin switchettes nationally striking muse duh yankeeier her jazzuhly hair became duh more dreams came tuh roost in duh fizz swivellin their throat stix rebuckflick down duh curly drain. tube gods fumbling at duh illusion sails sportsrock tunes duh artstuffing duh Rilling Steins on world tour painting their bullring intuh uh cornertoe to see the red whales white colors eye snagged note onnuh nightstick tarpapering burr o' skipyuhlin tasteye trinket wild up duh inside chills duh vane turns up gravitational mars on duh morning uhv duh green flood table leaves duh wood to burn down with seasons in duh rebuildings beauty as stumbled thru the eyes slaking the crashshore poisoncup head snowkicking duh everbow loom of rain time as a schedule an invisible hairdoo toppling over in the unseen because it had to. --Eric Curkendall (in Korea) firstname.lastname@example.org * the * logic * of *snowflakes* ( falls ) all DIU transmissions archived at the Electronic P o e t r y Center http://writing.upenn.edu/epc/ezines/diu contribute via email@example.com thank you!