THE EXPERIODDICIST 12                           
 Chris Daniels
 My sister
 who wert in hell
 scathing it's mad
 never again whom 
 did you await quick
 to say dead
 say among rocking
 husks muted
 by your headgland-
 end no lie
 from your
 will have
 been more
 real than
 that web
 Pickled seti first
 bubble papaverous
 black icons either end
 of the alimentary canal
 on plaster on cedar
 your thrice-beloved
 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
 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
 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
 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
 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
 woke to few left... talking to a catdance of silence, no dial tone, defact
 arenessing, by vessels, placecrafts, playscraps o'self, occlusion,
 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
 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
 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)
 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
 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
 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
        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
 It goes something like this:
 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.
 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?
 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
           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
             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
               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.
 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
 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
 (a dialectic of presence & absence?
        the "figure of the
       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
 ?Desire has been riding   riding    riding   riding
                      riding   riding    riding   riding
                                            riding all night to find help for
 [...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.]
 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.
 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 -