JUXTA/ELECTRONIC #7 February 1996

Editors: Ken Harris, Jim Leftwich Poets: Chris Stroffolino, Jacques DeBrot, Thomas Lowe Taylor, Don Hilla, M. Kettner, Theo Lorenc, Dale Jensen, Dan Raphael, Jake Berry, John M. Bennett, Amy Trussell, Holly Day ************************* Don Hilla FIXED PERSPECTIVE the subject as object seeing as a sense of touch Sidewalk skate board boys buzz by- passing through. Interior frame of reference. The doorway of the drunken bar. where the "telling is the thing" words function uniquely in use forced metaphor form commentary on the process itself A sensation. Next to him, a woman, with one eye on his crotch. instantaneous impressions unconscious sensations registering forgotten prior to conceptualization learning a new discipline to choose the perfect details to use being very aware He painted pain. The truth came out in flying colors of triple entendre pretending. Thought-sap seeping through his skull, slipping from his mind. He weeps as he sits and sips. Pity dripping from his lips into his drink. the act of perception conception itself an act the visual unit isolated complete an instant removed from time forever Blithe dust pastel wastes settle. Pale face of dusklight sets. Shades drawn at noon, trapping neon colors bright. Night must not be made. To wait. ************************* Thomas Lowe Taylor Relinquisher QUIETUDE - as one goes, rain falls - * 1 Formation of the bride delayed your heart no longer; this was the anchor in time white light flowing free yrs at the center gleam Eye them downer soon, too soon to seem, but then again.... Then had at (seeming forms-- underhand she yields against me, touches underneath and signs. Come at time no time this sign (autism of the heart's benign) * 2 "Business at hand & one Alternate" enhanced outer tube nosotros elevator formos delineate the plod, the plodder choice/i'd write all the time affaire du plume masterbo thrown outer glint, husto prelim nixed the nature of, sighing between partings you hold moon alert fries are husted bloom I nark yr plenty, overboon to the neater pin; elope. * 3 I'd heard yearning within me belittle calm in nature's pain nor keep me silent in wreathing lets this days's disdain become what's new within tides spinning nor the earth's begun, here at the center tune, marked at the longing site, I call you down within me singing one in one Then meant the tuner due, here at freedom's spin, here at today and mark from signs as left the tide was bent this longer from the rest and easing e wrath no detail * 4 bewildered substances unite next door now she flames but the innert calm respelled afar nor fixed, but central to the spine's endeavor. remix, as remembered doctrine, you Were there before in the white arrow, aformed. delete to timer unrepont eye heald'd sin within'r deal at song a barrier tune within yu hear me in repose, yr hieing history's language at the total scam beats at the mirror'd spoon but not without un certainty, ah! * 5 seas on one one sees r loaf leaded shriner scrim flo amaz s nealix prater no ( f 33 e-shrim for sl lietz f f thlitls orkope x-se norther's spud chick flin eye struk ned lai f arx'l MI EM N flought epixels escaping thoughts net hart "shooting [some] beaver" sic. "Phraseology--style relates to language and thought while diction to language only" em* * * * * * * em linguica delinee' pasta good for itself estable consuelo-meter ice the day out, plant lurker erbit f f claz// Im powrfl to kil or stroke the beauty in your hand dreamleaver spunk i'm at dictive, ur diet forward throat yr my girl f f f f f f f ************************* Jacques DeBrot 00 In AURA the cherished bough is radiance long hermaphrodite. You, who change CALL fates remained, of women, this living hand: Archangel night, bare stalk, flower, untouched root. Their floating world in the spires of His treed EDEN revived. Glowed in confusion. 0 FLOURISHED the hundred waves of external night. Or by day UTTERLY. This creeping eye to a beloved body its twin fire delerium BELIEVE and precocious altered. Wilderness thus. The self, my tongue, for that sweet Word it rent. Or by love ever accompany will unlace that region early foreign borne to you, angelic intelligence. 1 Nor of death by WATER this PrayerHand hovers wooden ever of generation. Unhardened into HARVESTING. KNEEL Itself, many leafed again of my BREATHING. Thus by life alone. WHO HEARS, unmade, the winged hour every distress infected. Remotely, the intimations of a sign heavenwards into CLAY. Tree-BLURRED as pearl, the pure rains your voice embower. ************************* Chris Stroffolino Via Negativa Seasons are either broad brushstrokes or little dots. There is no in between. The TV is either on or off. I'm not over my head in love yet. Or is love life? Wriggling dusts itself on, a Nestea plunge seen as a leap of faith. What is the time that passes terribly slow if no one knows what time is? What is lumber but kindling in a scorching summer? And why is meaning such a proofless cross to carry when you feel you make it or break it, but never both at once, since it costs more to eat than shit, except at christmas, as if one bad apple can spoil the whole DDT sprayed bunch and the voice has not made the wilderness it winks in in a myth we have to pass through, but no doubt should edit out for the kind of network cameras we make fun of, as if we're out of time. We'd reject such dreams if the end were analysis, or we can afford to flunk the final and are gamblers, all of us, cunning in our alienation and our wonder and that cunning is what keeps us together, as if glued to our seats so long soon paranoia seems a vacation where once it was but a price to be paid for the pleasure of being watched. And this is nothing if not involved with love, though someone stole my name and robbed theft as well and there is no drama but memory and hope even in the hottest chicken so the zoo can yawn in the garbage of fertility to bring is to the body. Hope For The Wicked Is like hell for the heavenbound, a threat of piety polluting what otherwise would endlessly earn the name of comfortable freedom that doesn't need to be fleshed out but slips in and out like what the corpses call a ghost like what men and fish call a frog... to itself no hybrid, music and meaning, the mistletoe of estrangement, all the fucking flags flooring those who thought the war was over. But perhaps there is no way out - - just because you know what comes up must come down doesn't mean the man with the house on his head doesn't have to worry about plumbing when the go between proves harder to seduce and the bridge didn't take the flood into account and the message gets tangled in the messenger. You're invited, almost commanded, to blame the ideals even the body can become and position yourself upon the dotted line of seemingly antiseptic doubt. It harbors passion, but must seem as dull and cold as stone, to itself at least if not to those who pretend to sing Strictly from an alien perspective Where hope, an ambulance, is life's abundance, Safer than average, a complex gong. I am destroyed. Let them fuck with me. ************************* Holly Day With Lower Bit old bald guy in a suit of our annything after swamps and women gypsies at teeth with your stomach longer than the almost the first time I heard this song I was pinned beneath the body of someone I didn't really like someone my best friend had a crushon whole around her neck you cried already on my back either my nose or it on teetering a precariously forced head sings alone, years later, bittersweet dreams of closet doors, the laundryroom, pushed up against the wall and liking it, naive, thanks for calling ************************* Theo Lorenc ***** devil isthmus spat-on maypole visceral appetition in fascism's unfortunately backwards yes novelist of course intercoastal specious drumming won't Benjamin spurt into harvest jackpot bewildered even decaying principle herds own suspension across downtown this fuck-up pidgin hello ***** 1. Total colourblindness: the perception neither of colours nor of light and shade, just the generalized sensation of masses, movement, depth. 1a. "No, I know he doesn't. No. No. Look, why doesn't he -" 2. The knowledge of the presence of sound; with the stereo effect, a vague sense of position, and with movement of the head, a more precise three-dimensional image. 2a. "By the river. No, the other side, across the road." 3. The perception of greater or lesser pressure (and the abstract translation of the extremes into physical pain). ***** Remember solder sparking burn allover left-blister-hand-man defined by solitude, grossesse, a certain retarded lasttime Ten thirty five ************************* M. Kettner INTEGERS NOT DISPERSING all yellowed and drowned-looking/kick burst/payment in rain unwise to accept wearily or jump over too soon court documents revealing the liver and onions of the non-matter debased by personal conflagration over-heaped and closely stacked mud oozing out the bottom integers not dispersing asleep for the rest of the week the dark a sad suppository passed out in its own reproaches while the lake sings to itself postcards arrive from afar clouds the color of mail sacks lop-eared steamy-breathed ready for stains paragraphs march relentlessly forward in oversize shoes: losing rivets belching semen license up for review eyes vacant dormers sunset, mare's-tails like daggers dripping bull's blood a savage stare and feral kiss beyond the conception of upright libidos: their slats all in order bacon never burnt tide line just below the knees meiosis only beginning bifocals failing camouflage not working: flies at twelve o'clock/dog fat sizzling mush growing thicker pots up-side-down pilot light out audience seated ten rows back SIN VERSUS HYPOCHONDRIA sin versus hypochondria punch card brethren schematics indicating a dubious progress no matter how low one stoops treading oil, threading through narrow passages qua this, qua that nothing remains up-side-down long enough governed by a mincing randomness which is NOT what is desired or groped for poorly strung together, in need of revitalizing outwardly silky and chatoyant osculations performed though primarily on inanimate objects ************************* Dan Raphael On the Chin we take upon the chin voluminous napkins open like frenzied clouds drop all of rain's disguises threaten to sprout like grey pregnant elves arguing with so many arms the light of interrupting matches reminds me of saffron temple bells replacing my ears in prenuptial sanskrit the first steps in untanned boots, boots still mooing, brown eyes challenging the horizon's bravado-- keep pulling the mountain closer, pulling the ground over my head like a blanket of allergen ferns, action heroes with black belts in massage fiercely liberate my back's litany of stress and lost chances if only I could smell the loam of drums celebrating every phase of the moon sliced finer than diamond pizza: everybody must get toned and tuned, resonated with their first vowel brooklet acrunch with decomposing grunge: food of the night, food basking in the warmth rising through the solid dawn that never tides, dusks that never stop to inhale, an ululating equator, the greenwich om stringing the pearls of my spine, oyster the world with mother-of-spectrums, father-of-spineless-pictograms we take to the streets to hear and read without houses on heads, without schedules ticking our flesh maps desiring bone's piano roll improvising a blues sonata for unwashed leather and silver ring trio. the first shall be bleeding, the last will never wake up. weeks that sing like licorice whips, minutes of nuclear tension, the weight of billions of dollars penetrating each skin pore: the deficit is cancer of the imagination, the deficit is every junkie's excuse, a shell game with hollowed grand parents and grandkids searching for the pea palmed decades ago we're 2 inches tall and trying to escape the banquet table. when we hug we transcend our size and stress, forgetting our place, not biting the carrot of potential, repulsed by the sweat behind the bait ************************* Dale Jensen DISCOVERY ON THE BEACH i rolled down the windows in the fourth year of on the coast highway the smell more destructive than any fishy drifted into the car and people were out of work millions of families were pulse of the music stardust it isn't other and i was thinking in fear a world as warm and dark outside a car parked by the beach the last one in the farthest had yet to meet halfway also searching for now then a vague shout he led the american around he located the nation to victory after his car there was good the sudden bumper cars rickety a constitutional amendment families with kids the range was given other parked cars not seeing them made me nervous PERSONAL IDOLS install a new statue as the paper cup of bad coffee come up with asking their angel wanted to cast their vote for toil and fell down historians who've chosen dead with a spear in their van get your mother with self body-shifted taking the inside of the cranium another address make them sound like car fbi agent had bought lots of fair anger was the only person i was no one to talk sometimes what inferno i'd be in oh those elephants igor straight to the melt early look wanted to cast a vote for thread install a new statue in the even stuff she could use life of wave this will live asking all their angel fur crucified for resemblance to the future personal idols among the work for myself i just baby had bought lots of body shifted and i told her friends ************************* John M. Bennett ***** just boobs? shade) rising cross the snow fabled-sheet (concision or expansion) sheety grin breathing- window ("sheet") tossed and flapping in the tub or diction (damp spoons) "don't fold that" sheet of sprawling marks our sign nature RISEN caps and sheets of sign for sign glue clanging in the wind. Chair compaction foaming bones my head sways beneath your swollen signage skin hat ("chewing sill"): tabled bloomers signing, light, wearing nothing but a (watch ************************* Amy Trussell "Sometimes The Wind Is A Loa" Sometimes the wind draws off a magnolia sometimes the wind is a skunk Legba drank a mint julep in a monsoon and rode a motorcycle through the yard Lenore had a breakdown From this slanted veranda the distance between two points is nothing in a flash of lightning she's on the other side Of Lake Ponchartrain dripping wet ************************* Jake Berry PhasEoStrophes 3 Illumined Strata 31 Vapor trails through blackheart terrain embossed with circadian membrane figuring tongues in the hollow shaft of delerious acumen. Technique's wan disguise, liar's poker from red algae burned cold as the loaf-keeper's stallion on a sperm drenched sun. Not automatism, or tracing an ancient claw, but conception's raw manner of bleak release. Steel into xylem moaning. Roots character form, and subsequent mojo. 31b The clutches were caught in her razor, and a tenth of them elephants, strode through the needle... Behavior weights the serum with planetary inquisition. of it could be said that prophecy takes a fall. In other words the roofs have been reconstructed along the blood ironies of blind faith as if wildflowers did not defy concrete perpetually. The full stellar colostomy. Parallel faint. ************************* Amy Trussell and Jake Berry Lava At The Gate Wind in the volcano I stumble towards Pele inebriated from her vapors the figs that have landed as a necklace now carbonize- shrunken heads of my longings Those eyes that draw me from the stone or roses beneath a turbulent moon wrestle me til dawn their tongues through my bleak language caress the apparatus of a lioness sniffing, reading the breeze Soon her nose is pushed all the way into my fear I bolt like an ibex bu she's out for blood now I'm backing up lava before a cliff She is white and seductive she is red and waiting she is black and rich with stars I bow to her ruptures and wail in crisp air for her presence flowering in all these shattered spines Light the citronella spikes skin a spathe drum at the center of the quincunx all is warm and still in this scarlet deliquesce through the sluice gate of her call ************************* John M. Bennett ***** unless some case) float til a rinsed reef and gloam ***** FATS phone facts the glandser time (clave)