THE EXPERIODDICIST 12
3.21.96
UNTITLED
Chris Daniels
My sister
who wert in hell
randomly
scathing it's mad
saying
never again whom
did you await quick
to say dead
say among rocking
husks muted
by your headgland-
whisperthumb
end no lie
from your
spinneret
will have
been more
real than
that web
scuttling
ceased
imaginations
nul
most
imagine
how
nul
it's
been
---
Pickled seti first
bubble papaverous
black icons either end
of the alimentary canal
on plaster on cedar
your thrice-beloved
somnifer
papaver crucifex
you ate too weak for the needle
_i want to stay here_ o the suzerain
moist ejecta line the hypostyle
den in which she hibernates
agape sere
herself as under glass
worshipped an instant past
in the front rooms at the met
she unmoved but for gold and lapis
_well, i don't have to watch
my weight anymore_
o the sly one
terrified perhaps
of fear
_no don't call i want to stay home_
stupidity pride unspeakable hope
falling out of the bunkbed
_i like it on the floor
it's cooler_
no way up
kecked black
no siren calling strangers
to her doom
they snap their gloves
kecked green
_we can see that's one sick lady_
psychopomp held her
erupting supplicant
over the ichor-bowl
_that blood's_
mere witness to awe
_a month old at least_
head against the cellar wall in guanajuato
---
Prince
stately as a jackal
hear what she did
kecked a trail of greenblack blossoms
as she made her way out of the house
with paramedics by night
at the utmost limit
of a gasp of breath
gloves that snap fume-
wreathed we slept
with bleach without
the pharoah
his sarcophagus
gold and lapis
balloons discovered
stripped of riches
sail black
resin in the belly
fresh as if yesterday's
tomorrow found
cottons tie
myriad pestilent needles
black spoon
---
O anubis papaver
clean the pollen
from her nostrils you put there
take her dying blood
************************************************
INSIDE-OUT POEMS
JOHN M. BENNETT
retry condition) painspill screen slippers past my
cheek slag sinkers tune of off clangers roost your
rampant breathing through compression pills in
loops: cornhole rasps, riddled plate incision asks
you or, cusp and vertigo, clay replays your DANGLE
faze kaolin swoons, crust you ask, wrong division of
my plated soup. Dribbled mask, tidal shirt, corn in
loops rubber fills your desperation holes ("through")
wreathing tunes of dust ("lickers") you and I, slag
speak, clinkers sing against the rail your (flicking
screen
entire slabness) slants off crashing glass inner
tub the stimulation sackers sore 'n tuned (like
hay) foster clams and slimy foot intaction smells
(your muscle closes, tossed glue reduction horse
shoe grind flaming ties retrace yoour gullet's DOME
gasket of) retrieval flammers spin your foamy horse
the door jamb shivers exolux ("scabbing dark") gluey
cl;othes your leg applied faster gams and honey
glazed. Groomed for saysure (simulation core) the
inner flab gasses off your knee. Says so itchy (her
sign incision can)) teethe resurface cracks inside
your snow bank green chemibloom, tapers swarm.
Corpulate, flakey scales sardine notation//stiffens
cone, the glance you worn//dilute inking of my gums
ineption scams of luncher MEATS lunchy glands in
action savers, thinking phones, dilution of the chord
fellation ("worn") like worms and grass. Rotation,
flinders, flake administration coruscate yoour flow-
ered nose ("bank") blown outside a siezure score
face (can you listing could (systemic
*************************************************
TAZ DELANEY
Steal From Self And Confess
Never wash fulminating symbols in DNA.
Tried battening the hatches against typeworm?
alphacide "________________"
be-inks cryout "lo! likesure due ventuality, what Imany-facedicktotems drive
lifedeath importance?
sink, sent, sense, ascendance, scented, synched, psyched, spiked, sected,
rites, wrong, wrung, run?
Who'll will djiinitalics unlesson 'round 'n'sayon &non, onless: orchideja
tendrilsvu: or chestral leaksoul, you?"
1ce shards piersemientendres, work of deep surface is vowelight tranquilisea,
spineshrined mnemersion.
recency, not overphobic of slippery sleepceiling, "Fore!", enjoying it,
thinks is on high ledge, et alia.
reachin heavy cloud formations low voices, mused versaskew, dram or two
Accelleray crumpldchannls, fogbiz verybodyd waking life trimmings, ofFarce
buildings and mosshead misslings
un-put-away items considered for use by scened enemy thogcells: tvictor of
percentinfected
woke to few left... talking to a catdance of silence, no dial tone, defact
arenessing, by vessels, placecrafts, playscraps o'self, occlusion,
thrillgrief
awakerecaller why there thingshow likewas I waiting for, train?
Massive ornate nothing floats without how or wham, "am"
We, our ancestors, recallore. ("young & get you, i no kidding.")
Learn quicksand afore setting foot there or put out to pastyear but
leap before you look else you never will
vivid between the hemclocked deviary's playgroin
variamodules evanescing wetdreams-at-will
plexuallow la vie vu openfront in here
silver, same woodsy f'freckles ago, nightverge astonishmen
raining graffitti, bells, phosphors. raining inside rooms, books, names.
Both sopping wet. getting dark. "No stopping now, we're dune this other
plane."
3rd of ever. divining, hurled momentspells: seeme) echo these consonants: b
f g m z
dismantlerupt servilized, de posit degovgod. Gnoccult maze solvent " where
weds when"
mindoor safelock toreets, pers ru .ith atja bfan betwe ooo isible malieves
the fractalinging
4De-constructing javu embodi of never end. sit tharea. reachin heavy cloud
formations low chant
awetastichasmanate Fengshui, Alamut, crop circles, cetera. W/allure
paintersect
flight ectoplasmelody, no ectomy underlid existongues Sufi fish'n'sea
Taz Dedicated to Dr. Strange
Saturday 11/25/95 By excision from dreamjournal/own source mat'l
Leftovers: yinguage-yanguage "Order of death security"
Grimming from ear to ear, don't say I haven't got a sense of tumor.
This edit 12/16/95 Minutes to make, hours to edit
*(Thog: thoughtbog)
*************************************************
from HEREAFTER THE ROSE
Jim Leftwich
ders emathing spfles ruffled herald vernes
no rawbrought slight mop hitchedrace
bands stride flecked mutes hereafter
toast ent clootile wails
heararks sent yet miniscule
baftory buiilt into it
it is no lonhors cracked bone enshrinek
rose toressed exmin dappled play
black Caauous into an unforseen
an extraobit into the ardmulate unlaced
crngs beaten for gs which ere evoked
yearns shemselves litund eighths
cohering germinate assuKnowledge
noake poems out of treblte rains
forgedoracular dice ammered so often
sometimes clef rapacious wine
or bsed curude splinters
when bets obscure black morsels mail
gender unborn surges hnor
grace known once his grown roround
weireal objects only I must begin
not with hypotheses but w burns
sharps clock truthdiving ban
the rest is tiorn soses warp
anoiety tenants larempts
they are able to formdat agonies
deverges toched ocean toes adjlor
formalt our th lack dober
thrfort and mund akes
antennaestruedCondensation
mo raffled is rusts at cruides
no twitctextuxes reveal thla settle or much
to populate definitely the solid empire of the senses
*****
trace pica winters draped etherenthe
origin of the racvolution
what matters is to convert the known al wafger motes
we solace terus shicept what they theal
stark unloads wet minerermanence
iotions suurled shown bor path of the infinite ns
*****
inherent pirines Polytritus
surmisedthick theories cul de sac
mainequities moral utterance seized capacenclave seen twice
roas lany att dark roads toner
limitssptroubleperhaps
even incommterial has its own hislay tastes tanown
orrsal nails windg does not mean it is realityagile
crannies mate unf gets exprward
an ideat a serr the sentrdinary one
*****
and consequently to transport tradition out of its centew
untnetic tapebonus samacent pitchAll mahing notes
which your ownths after much efgents
*************************************************
Dirge Dance
Amy Trussell
for C.T.
handfuls of fish blood spray paint stroked
roots of fruiting trees over side walk:
freeze red swan dirge
a stumbler needle skipping across
searching for arrows blackness
in Diana's quiver DNA mess on the
fay in a coin-bra stretcher passing x-rays
hisses down children who suffocated,
a binary star change in their throats
sword dance the nurse:
swallower "I blew a vein clear
through
retractable claw to the other side"
cajeput embalmer dreaming
Eresh-Kigal's ward from
inky caps fingered the oxygen
on the pane tent
cremation story: hot house arrangements
crated blood oranges force bloomed
rotting by the mausoleum heart
a sylph chinking zils
lowers herself
onto the plot
releasing a screech
*************************************************
STEVE CARLL
It goes something like this:
A POLEMICS
for your own good
Sorry to have to do this, but sometimes it's necessary.
You'll thank me for this someday.
Let me tell you.
Listen:
I don't mean to offend you, but...
I'm not through yet.
That's not true.
You've got me all wrong.
I question your motives for saying that.
I question your motives for believing that.
You don't know what you're talking about.
That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.
You're projecting.
You're in denial.
That's an invalidation tactic.
That's what Hitler thought, too.
That's speculation on your part.
That's just your opinion.
How can you be so sure?
What makes it OK for you and not for anybody else?
If you can do it, I can do it.
What's good for the goose is good for the gander.
You're being awfully selective in your memory.
Why are you singling me out?
What did I ever do to you?
You would say that.
There you go again.
Here we go again.
Stop being so P.C.
I was right; you *are* a reactionary.
You're taking everything I say way too personally.
I'm not the only one who thinks so.
Quit being so selfish.
Quit whining.
You just hate everyone else because you hate yourself.
Why have you forsaken me?
What is this, a conspiracy?
You're just arguing for the sake of arguing.
You're just showing off your vocabulary.
College boy.
You're just jealous.
Everything you say stinks of nihilism.
That's not you in control; it's your demon.
Why are you making this into a competition?
Why can't you just admit you're wrong?
What-ever.
Don't change the subject.
Your point being--?
Yeah, right.
I see through your little game.
I sussed you out a long time ago.
Have you heard a single word I've said?
You're not listening.
Come, bring yourself, perverse fool, while there is still time,
To weigh your situation, and so turn to sense.
If you had any balls you'd back me up.
You're a control freak.
You're into power.
You're playing politics.
You're twisting everything I say.
That's a deliberate insult.
I won't tolerate it.
You're too clever for your own good.
Have you ever stopped to think about these things?
You're living in a fantasy-world.
You're drunk.
You're stoned.
You think you know everything, don't you?
You can never prove any of this.
You're blaming the victim.
You're begging the question.
That's a tautology.
You're using circular logic.
It's just like you to say that.
You're just sucking up to the powers-that-be.
You're just saying the opposite of everything I say.
You're as bad as _______.
You're being paranoid.
Don't pull rank on me.
Can you seriously believe that?
You might be right, but who are you to talk?
All you ever do is complain.
If you don't like it, move somewhere else.
Nobody's forcing you to stay here.
You're out of the mainstream.
I question your judgment.
Who are you to pass judgment on anyone?
That's bullshit, and you know it.
If you're so hurt, why then don't you show it?
You can't possibly mean that.
Why are you attacking me?
That's exactly the kind of attitude that's destroying this land.
Oh no! They've gotten to you too!
You're not using your head.
Quit thinking with your dick.
You're just saying that to piss me off.
That's a really cynical thing to say.
You can dish it out, but you can't take it.
Why don't you practice what you preach?
I'd like to see you try it.
That's just psycho-babble.
That's your standard response to everything.
Earth to dummy! Earth to dummy! Come in, dummy!
You're being evasive.
You're being irrational.
You're reading too much into this.
You're getting overemotional.
You're missing the big picture.
You're missing the bottom line.
You can't see the forest for the trees.
You're blinded by your ideology.
You're jumping to conclusions.
You're contradicting yourself.
What kind of nonsense have they been teaching you?
You're hung up on trivialities.
You're just trying to effect some false erudition.
You're just playing the martyr.
That's just what they want you to believe.
You're playing right into their hands.
Who are you to talk?
You're just saying that to save face.
You need a good dose of reality.
You're just toeing the party line.
So what?
Says who?
Who cares what you think?
That's a generalization.
Anyone can throw statistics around to prove anything.
That's just petty one-upmanship.
Do you always have to be so negative?
Take off those rose-colored glasses.
I've got news for you.
You'll never get anywhere with that attitude.
Nobody likes a smart-alec.
You're not looking at it objectively.
You're rationalizing.
You're just following along with public opinion.
You've bought into their way of thinking.
Next time, think before you speak.
By saying that, you've lost all credibility.
It takes one to know one.
If you haven't experienced it, you can't understand.
I've heard this all before.
It's the same tired rhetoric every time.
How much are they paying you to say that?
Now you've shown your true colors.
You're an apologist for patriarchy.
You're implicated in everything you accuse me of.
You're in way over your head on this one.
You don't have a leg to stand on.
That argument may have worked once upon a time, but that was then.
That's a very convenient position to take.
You're quoting me out of context.
Smells like sour grapes to me.
That's very self-righteous of you.
How do you know?
You can't fool me, you know.
You're polemicizing; I'm trying to stay above such tactics.
Oh, like you would know.
Hah! That's a laugh!
You always have to have the last word, don't you?
This argument is over.
*************************************************
Her Eye writes the World in Miniature
Tony Leuzzi
Her eye writes the world in miniature
And--with precision--the extinct season
of boundaires (regarding desire
like an almanac...the true explorer
of the cities she has not yet lived in).
Her eye writes the world in miniature
and compresses knowledge of the vaster
states in her peculiar comprehension
of boundaires--this is her desire.
People come and go. They have passed through her
experience without rhyme or reason--
Her eye writes the world in miniatyre
though with clarity--an able seer
into realms of wisdom. She will not own
the boundaires. Unrestrained desire
has no place in her allotted space; her
concern for controlled representation.
Her eye writes the world in miniature
like a boundary beyond desire.
*************************************************
curve your taste to the thirst in her knees
Chris Mansell
Narcotic sculptures lament the choreography holograms obscured by the
alchemists' eerie hallucinogenic tapestry painstakingly proliferated in
pencil depicting the more provocative halos of the male nude addressing
withdrawl condensed like an amnesiac.
Doused with intermixed flame and hard rain the vacant theoretical
silence was harvested as it was articulated unexorcised by the maddening
artist who's own fixed idea of sodomy evolved as the true theme of
homoeroticism. Seductively he unchronicled his impassive fantasia into a
single image of a bowl overflowing red peppers.
The recent findings of x-ray'd pages assembled from the diaries of
anonymous writers who mark their habitat on the Undernet like piranha to
disabled vets in the Mekong Delta, are embracing the thick air that
evaporates from the bomb crators that erupt around them matching their every
breath.
The twitching muscles off the shoulder of dancing fireflies follows
the inaccuracy of Mohammed's python-like war diary he kept in his head. It is
said that Mohammed had in his cave a Blickensderfer typewriter where he
slammed away with a mathematicians skill his expatriate cyclical schemes onto
holographic film he would later sell to a Cuban subcontractor and licensed as
boiling graffiti-like noise superimposed upon the traumatized ghost of the
yet unborn Ezra Pound.
Mohammed's caricatural and allegorical portrayal of Jesus has
often been seen as illusionistic and despairing as the symbology washes by
into decadent and banal experiencing shiatsu's in shower cells performed by
an anemic proveyor of statutory rape in photomontage drinking cream flavoured
wine.
Shamanistic vultures feast on the beastiality of Christianity
amidst 100,000 mass graves where bodies were uncovered and the corpses were
sodomized. The skeletons were developed into rudimentary sexual devices that
were cast in iron disallowing of course for frailty and genetic defects.
The seductive and comical alluring aspect of incest and
patricide have afforded the art form of necrophilia to rest upon its laurels
on the op. ed. pages while incest and patricide jerk the salty juice of the
headlines.
Condoms for menstruating men have stigmatized sterilization. By
consolidating impotence and adoption by exhilarating evidence of riots and
ultimatums, their inadequate and fearsome incompetence threatens comical
self-mythification and monotonous anarchy.
Do pyromaniacs have wet dreams? If so would post-mortem
molesting with sulfuric acid corroding the decomposition, the strangulation
of abducted electric chair survivors, prostitutes ritually slaughtered and
dismembered; butchering the worn flesh with nubbed teeth be justified? Would
gangrene expeditite the extradiction of the senses in the act of ignorance
and decay?
The ability of animals to become shamans is not to be
contradicted. It is reported in the subconscious of many conscious readers of
forbidden texts that a Buddhaesque insect led several million other insects
to devour the earth that originally inspired the great flood.
*****************************************************************************
from CHORUS: KING AMOUR
Jack Foley
Seven years passed, and during that time Rossetti began to think with pain of
the aspirations as a poet which he had himself renounced, and to cast
backward glances at the book which he had buried in his wife's coffin. That
book contained the only perfect copy of his poems, other copies being either
incomplete or unrevised; and it is hardly to be wondered at that he asked
himself at length if it could not be regained. Was it not his duty to the
living, to himself, and perhaps even to God, to recover and publish the
poems? According to his own account given to me twelve years afterwards, the
preparations were endless before the work could be begun. But at length the
licence of the Home Secretary was obtained, the faculty of the Consistory
Court was granted, and one night, seven and a half years after the burial, a
fire was built by the side of the grave of Rossetti's wife in Highgate
Cemetary, the grave was opened, the coffin was raised to the surface, and the
buried book was removed.
The volume was not much the worse for wear!?
Why should just a few hours make such a difference? Am I so lonely? Is your
sense of presence so strong?
how many hours?lonely?
spent in parks?on benches?the light fading?looking?
?
to fall into the DELIRIUM
which we call love
is the mind's attempt
to know itself
not by the way of reason
by the way of
EROS?
Rossetti returned about eleven o'clock. He found his rooms filled with the
odor of laudanum. His wife was breathing oddly, unconscious on her bed. He
called a doctor, who saw at once that she had taken an overdose of her
accustomed sleeping draught. Other doctors were summoned...
After lingering for hours without recovering consciousness for a moment
(and therefore without offering Rossetti a word of explanation) towards
seven o'clock in the morning
she
died
(a dialectic of presence & absence?
the "figure of the
mother")?
sweet
arrows
drawn
to us?
+
The dark blue of the night sky is yielding to the radiance of the sun rising
just behind
the dark-green trees of the hilly horizon fast brightening along its entire
length?
?Desire has been riding riding riding riding
riding riding riding riding
riding all night to find help for
Coeur!?
?
[...this gap in time which, as long as he lives, is the ground on which he
must stand, though it seems to be a battlefield and not a home.]
*****************************************************************
TWO POEMS
MATT HILL
SO MUCH DEPENDS UPON SMOKING MIRRORS
Extreme unction upon the ground of depend
involves the square root
of axiom launch.
As white space reaches the critical mass of segue
we end up with a replacement policy
called no thing.
Within the sovereign zone of existential debris,
complacent investive is now a blood clot in
the lungs of dystopic dilly-dally.
In the "service of being", in the
reformation of imbroglios, the froth of
no-brainers becomes newly layers "mindbarf".
As chaos becomes flatulent, a detumescent
interlude full of "erect intentions" will/will not
have cash value. Way past the shore of whatever.
PREAMBLE TO AN UNKNOWING
to seize a river, to grasp a saturated signifier:
in the lands of theory, a burning book
provides allegorical leverages beyond getting,
calling out the bright text of peeled layers -
sleeping in the open spaces of necessary metaphor,
as flesh flees from intuitions algorithms, we are
brought up short by a former omnipotence, a
shining epitaph now immune to drifting obscurity -
between the froth & the becoming
faith is somehow more than the nights of god;
death will have no bearing upon the lark and
the benisons of obsidian unknowing -
*************************************************