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SCOTT MACLEOD THE PARK, AT THIS TIME OF DAY milk from the fierce stars, divinity staggered. meanwhile, I must have passed through, a cabaret, fewer tears, replaced by names of persons. night like a carp. circles on the roofs, gaping windows, weapons of unfamiliar shape and remarkable view. collar of dead stars. not to mention the shadow of the marvelous, beginning to be useful. faithful companion, big as houses, nothing inside but starch, in its shadow. mercilessly on sheets of glass. a few liberties, then she delightedly bit. invisible crew, living in intimacy, end of factories and the bottom of the sea. rain like a harp. properly speaking, these are not brushes, as when one is within, earshot, life, of a thistle, beneath kisses. enough to make their appearance. let her be on her guard. nothing more tragic, really. thieves are ...musicians ...dead ...boiling sea, managed only to pronounce, terribly clear without seeing it, it's the only thing, he asks. I was afraid. please myself. abandoned her to the pistol grip, a vague good evening whom I no longer call anything but...fortunes floundered. I am not on earth willingly. you have certainly heard of the inhabitants with rubber gloves, the stage of luxury, guided by staggering, a false weed to be undone. since by firelight all women. through the roof like a sleepwalker, opinion of people, some flat on their bellies, awakening at twilight under an aqueduct, no one knows the human heart like I do, slung like workers, filled with tears, her black dress her force of circumstance, mated with a blusterer, beginning to hover above our heads except for the little white shoes. ************************* KEN SHERWOOD SOUND OFF (from the bo ok of the sa me title by Spencer Selb y) without inte ntion words that have ab sorbed the s peech columns sway torsion outbidding m emory re- collection t hat g(r)azes tense field of forensic parti- culars, vague clouds words doors without knock- ing ************************* VINCENT FERRINI Decline of the Obsolete There is a death that does not sleep hanging around as a mal-odor between the fissures of decaying wings variations of cliches in homes by the Merchants of Metaphysics Emporia the Sun is blinking at that this is only a transitory Theatre the hour of weighing of the soul on the scale approaching, Hierachies collecting repositories of whoring Ink at large the plateus of the Unquestioning Insurances against Death & oblivion the ache in the messages of the signs & the rejoicing springs of Innocence ************************* Vincent's Ferrini's Fortieth Book Thomas Lowe Taylor Listening to him talk about vocation during a reading, you realize he's talking about the Stations of Attention, locating the moods and sensations via voice of states of being which attend from a complete world view, one which includes his corporeal chakras and an enlivened and illumined eros. No, we are not listening to erotic poetry, but to poetry from an erotically enlivened man, in whom vital energies are successfully utilized in erasing the poet's body from the physical body and so blur the inner/outer illusion. "I am the poem...we are all the poem...." he says expansively, noting that it was in the mutuality of his friendship with Olson that his sense of what poetry does was made firm, not by who Olson was, certainly a contributing factor to the depth it achieved, but more in the fact of friendship that the word became flesh. And so Vincent inhabits all religions in his embracing of them, and not with any attitude at all save the tonality of his line, be it brief or vernacular or pure juice, it is all cosmos and he is its evidence. This is ecstatic poetry. Vincent is a manifestation of the sacred and complete man, saying that he is "a communicator", perhaps enlivening the notion of what a poet is, he inhabits the personal with his Word, noting that for the most part, we have lost touch with it. But if you aren't somewhere, that is, manifesting yourself, all of this takes place in a vacuum--hence Vincent's sense of community, of being somewhere, interacting with other people in their lives. His poetry is a poetry of voice, of encounters, of a life lived fully among and within other people. "A person is a person because of other people" goes the saying. No ivory tower here. The poems strike not like artifice, but as true speech, sometimes embellished by poetic effect. A word is a just cause, not to be misused or misplaced, in each place made specific by its use. In much that is about today, the plasticity of material is so disrespectfully used as to deny many "word products" their vitality. To have a poetry which is not out of one's life and vision is to write someone else's poetry, or perhaps no ones, perhaps it is just "to write". Word as flesh, not as signifier. The Magi Image, 1995, Igneus Press, 310 N. Amherst Rd., Bedford NH 03110, 135 p., $10. ************************* A STAY IN ACCELERATION ====================== By David Hunter Sutherland On stilts, Cyrano courts Neptune, blind to the time-worn cracks and centuries coarse ephesias, of her moons. Gone this view of her suns, In my absence, behind half-opened doors Susanna finishes Figaro, Daedalus takes wing, and the price of cloves falter.. Stay ! this beaten path, balm it with a lullaby, and Spring it too a halt, In my absence. (shiploads will burn..) Letter To Valentinius (c.140) ========================== By David Hunter Sutherland Beloved, She wriggles of life. Wrapped in a palm, pale like gypsum's flakes of ivory. She wriggles of life, carved in the harsh erotics and pews whose albumens of flesh awe back her prescence.... Belonging, on her first day belonging, her mouth was yours, her lips, statutes of a testatment of a tribe gone mad. Beloved, bring me your visions your allusion on mule, your fires' brightest Channels (Meshach, Shadrach, Abdenago) your psychic, high on wooden monocles whose talk of animal theism, desert terror, phantasm, are veins in the cataclysms of her palm. This world is enough my love, tell the believers your daughter has name. Faithfully yours, ************************* VINCENT FERRINI Paean for Jake Berry's 3rd Note The waves are underswayed underoperating implied the sounds hit the walls of listening & the digitals bouncing off in directions lost feet grapple for to round out a footprint so it can be found where it came from but it's already gone the knockings try to hold even as the syllable sinks in the ozone all's open as the air is sucking for the news to make a chancing tangents are glintings of the Glorious talking reassembles speaking briefly as a cat scratch left on the cerebellum for posterity the gas in value's pushed Joy off the edge & the audience is suspended in unhearing the atmosphere is alienated from the ore & nothing stays for long in any thing Schooling is a ritual of the marketplacing Imagination is stuck in grease politics have eyeballs hanging out of white skulls borrowed from cliches the revolution is a fast backward so far ahead the language is groping Ah but the energy is freed at a pace the magical box is genuflecting to June 24, 1995 (see Juxta/Electronic #1 for the piece by Jake Berry) ************************* THOMAS LOWE TAYLOR DAILY LOG Oct 15.95 I Ed'd out. Calm day follows disjunkt outlet Pass to less remote areas underneath sense, but outer'd houses at remote sensors flung doubt erases censure nor hosted parties' time. You'd at blisses called more inner research involved his own distances resolved from the flighter pool they've callowed one two three anymore detail therein nor outer clutters distinct arrows noon where held'd hours declare newer blooms t Northern reposures where'd thence a word or more holdens called-field doublers recall flutter whose arcs deny less now & thence restore Homer cuds pealer mist descry polar attribute needles flood flower her's smiler the poem as her legs delimit pressure's tounger heart to resume there-touch angles markered silence. These hours spoken acts recall tenor leaven, nixed meals the souler spoke and centered at love's peculiar mix of the neglected & obsess. sky's laters rebirth and love twin signs of release. hard between yr sighs, another spot and room persists beyond expectant airs nor remote passion holds intents the purer shower in plan. II Your dick. I'm not schemed between yr eyes, a spot and center poles relaxed berms remind overture to hints between remarks that held nor shines have spent responds acclaim singing hours' repose. Then-spun light-slaked dust of centuries. Our luck. ************************* JOHN M. BENNETT HYDRAULIC STRATIGRAPHY Why the aspirin filed along the sink or formic acid legs 'n feelers window closed the antonym agrees your face with provolone susan nashed the hair in- stained with films of light. You cannonballed or same, canon, rowing 'cross the fatty lake lake tombs, loaf rowed of afternoons' raking head and sleep the pills-cans failed floating 'cross the scummy basin naps alone your tree feelers loose 'n wavey ("admonition") theory of the consequence or susan-link//eye on brachiopod "or case of why" ************************* David Joseph Dowker _from_ LYRICWARE _a series of semi-automatic poems_ 1/1 She entirely arbitrary addressed to true him virtually specifically across obsession flurry (iconic smile finally) that correlate of the who of another navigated the hemispheres (ionic gesticulating) across programmed array of related memory clusters attached to utter form the sensation of before configuration the intent to arouse the patterns to access Her code across chaos (She skyfile) and exchange derivatives of the folded life (hypothetical) He resolved himself of course and decided 1/2 thread _becoming-dream_: phase maintenance mostly peripheral flutter to lingual and ephemeral fields the far-away in this therefore apparent wood a nest in that allusive Tree of ululation the fibrillating source file hereafter meanders of the floating _becoming-animal_ dream said in string message: green rains through previously read receptors therefore a strangely actual dream self at the periphery has my thoughts phasing to the valences far-away the light artificial moonfull flesh nature thing listening my fictional agencies _becoming-human_: maintain world / later read: incidental green ticket scarlet rains this key to no room 1/3 we the defamiliarized and premised social ontological machine this ancient textual night being a resolution: to stay and be made namely from throbbing need how frighteningly careen her thoughts of his body through extra-linguistic media his mouth to anxiety the controlled ecstacy how immediately the representation shrugged why camouflage desire given our current inert uncontrollably poetic situation consciousness non-totalizable context smiling the very being 1/4 the structures of intensity between molecular you the sender and the table physically hard metaphorically doing that strata entirely energy to mechanism of writing that continuous sorcery a like literally flow the same nervous deployment the dynamic industry of divine systems propagation a plateau of calls to all after this be multiplicities impulses over the rhizome lines of receiver and sender the netlong vegetable rapture or route to chlorophyll consciousness the same syntactic chains say akin to again to have multiple memes non-ordinary awareness actually flight these lines technically reflection 1/5 automatic word organism detached mental plasm consummate thought compass written continuous as another channelled pattern gestures idiomatically defined ego motif calibrated to cyclic entities kinetically culminated in perforated modern culture protozoan propagation of universal standard bipedal clone and aural whorls of attuned psyche necessarily flow formats beneath spoken segmented surface ever chatter pouring in radiant circumference 1/6 intra-syllabic babble mostly indecipherable elf chatter what chromatic Venus glistens slippery with sheer shimmer in the tensity a ruby signature space-time tuning mammalian brain shift re- verberates re- sounds around fingered displacement so position echo to silence go thrive in futures with murmurs between temples empathic impossible transmissions does consciousness inhabit waterfalls estimate the tremor dwell correspondence stations ping! increasingly relation hiatus with flow through indicating water 1/7 the gradually laminated brain the habitual conditional accretion of intent bending with surface recognition gulfs by volume will generate memory but beauty given symmetrically hyperventilates visibly (clarify assumptions then learn Her story while the lines compile the think constant) before whenever dense presence in brain swells immense yet related shaped world everything gradually patterns regions of flickering increasing so given being to wave through always contriving disaster precipitating millions each invades each and we of bodies almost extravagance ever this: to have Her determines all work and mappings of touch repeat speech events blur before difficult auspice 1/8 same you intensely physical being the like self the because deterministic cosmic axes mirror feeling over motor culture engage activity inhabit human planet the heart of pivoting everything original magnetic order however the fractured other transcends occasion that same energy doubled to however you pleasure each sensual absolute barrier burst to immaterial enthusiastic intensity exponentially nervous consciousness itself suddenly instantly infinite ************************* A MONODY ON MARS ================ By David Hunter Sutherland Images of Venus, writhing in her sea, sunlit specimens un-breathing, while the fisherman baits a picture whose artist lies nascent in dreams. (Because there is a lake, a breeze, a setting sun...) And, so it is for Mars - whose disillusioned self sits fetid in his waste, red hands - white sands, fissure trapped islands of eyes... in a large sense searching, (should even this escape him), there is a world, his star, our universe superimposing this ratio superior of brutal half-truths turned law, icons seething in his net as your quantum gesture flips baited on its' back, sun-backed to submission, answering death. (should even this elude you), There is an ocean, and a bigger fish to catch. HOLLY DAY In College After the War a young he these occasionally made them all into veterans in a job taken running even a loved little dark she an old he was the like one to attract her falls and the nowhere nothing hoisted to attention like bird shall be a slow bird air and the scarecrow she lies in a corner they floor he sits in her favorite got his horn to cut the like girls down locked up now breaking only wine ************************* MICHAEL BASINSKI THE TRUTH ABOUT LAUNDRY does a wild shirt have a bear wisht in a wrinkled forest THE TRUTH AND LIFE OF VEGETABLE MOLD melody cucumbers fig leaf moon liet which soft furry shriVeilLling has been in the rain of a witch's pubic hair ************************* PAX MONGOLICA ============= By David Hunter Sutherland And the Wave, porous to touch, collapsed at your door. The full dissolution, "OM AH HUM !", and mantras of desperation, (heartbreak...despair), spiral down an orbit near a retrograde star. Yet on a small scale, Life coodles and croons to you, from an atoms' gestation, to the milk and manna of meal for a sun. Our toss and turn dream Buddhas' tight subtle bodies are muons that bind you in this cosmic soup of strange bedpartners, heavy velocities, and ghost orbits. Now affixed within this gaze, you sleep snug. Friend to the ethers and comforts' raison d'etre. Both, borders in a universe, whose cause and effect portend as loves' finest vision; a vision of swords into shares, sheaves into rain, rain into your silence... (as an eerie peace ensues.) ************************* VINCENT FERRINI Fond Ah Lee is won spinning at rest Lao Luv's is Lina's mind around a willing fulfielding & complete to be phased no wasting & the sounds in her(ea) dunagreed angels in Congress remember this is by the channel through the bonebox alchemizing fingers the Poem is in fueling & controlling freely exuberance! ************************* JOHN M. BENNETT IONIC Touted the very glans batiment smoke ("undies") tuned and flat through sopping chains of steel wool the "berry jakes" you stood adobe shaft and needle rite ("write") too all so much for scaling, razor wire the alternating pall of wheezing wasps walks for minutes circles glistened pit the nates tree aeoliates right thin erection left. You wheedled his, "dopey food" or candor wound stuffed with wood and gelding brains. (Mood flat jumping chickens redim- embered through your patchy vacuation ("corse touted") ************************* THOMAS LOWE TAYLOR DAILY LOG Oct 1.95 "So many roads, so much at stake" Bob Dylan, Dignity I Longer forms permit passion its due and entry how you'd painted-out her eyes from former stains; these lighter hours remind you of whetted outward light between her eyes, a spot and send her out again. I'd at had. Was enough, or spread? Nor denial not. though. In between sentences roughed plantaris cast nor forward claims to halt or sing completed rooms are cast and doubt removed, relived in terms other. Then no holds release after calm no season en retard. What's seeming less intent or hovered motif's claimant was removed, a tumor, or less visitor than plinth, or scoriated hoop intend echo from heathered palms. He'd them after other authors, calm remove no smokers in within chance what takers had implied, thus beyond scope intense to idles in daily life retain improved wassail term she'd been sent'or whipped-white shafts' rude snouts. Inert prudes resign their anchor-wit, them stuffed ports hold not their own Captain said's bye thanked betters ought apparent clues for tooth sd reel, then fish behead, otter 's musk healed animate platforms of attentive spoons laid. Other rovers correspond. Plight attends fancy, weald. Not. Hear her then spent actors remiss perspire leaving the butt held to send her center short marks permit, en coeur. II My dick. In shower short shaft white extent to purple. From retreat to pure stance; another shallow beckons-out there pride re-sealed then pusher spots a sigh coming at outs from poorer sentiments as revealed daily meant. Love's weigh no rancor begin explore tunes; what luck. ************************* JEFFREY LITTLE ruins fragged in the hold the QE2 bearded in a floral print dress & england's cindering offshore the barbequed new york asphalts but it didn't never like this all wrong wind machines they rumble & vacuum to life, a life sonorous as the metronome of a string-tied parcel abandoned on the rubber floor of a crosstown bus in heavy traffic a small pennsylvania town of 3000 its hand-less citizenry up-in-stump works itself into lather a latin rubric pinned like the french to a hunting jacket on the living & the dead as if a huricane wasn't enough MEMO: the calisthenics of trees is a subterfuge i cannot allow undermining as it does the tendentious soverergnity of my cash cow the empirical pinion "there is no chronometer more bankrupt than the windsock of change" my pockets remain locked to me/i will wear my father's shirts briskly through the fistula where once there was a wall ************************* FORCE OF INSIGHT ================ By David Hunter Sutherland Worlds pregnant in worlds, and the buzz of matter is not beatific vision or pleasure, if pleasure is found in that original sin: the Father of Lies whispers, "Is this paradise?", as intuition of pure Being looks in opposite directions, vaguely concerned for transitions, events, ulterior or exterior motives. Alien half-knowns, animal faith and eventual passions privy my thoughts in their private collection, stationed between Here and Now, requisite relativities of labouring minds cling to this pervasive sphere of sound blue skies and "B" flats, illusions of positive depths pure and simple strike my captive audience whose view now bent on idealized natures, yell Jump ! ************************* DAILY LOG Dec 2, 1995 Thomas Lowe Taylor I Leaner streaks to pool around house and tense again the dream persists within hours, your hand along and signing it into these later schemes resist to tempos throne and gong intense or outer heaves to paler moons hearing harkers pinned astute centers at her movie's pealers truck-stroke down toward where they'd been tunnel piercing tracks leading forward at tunes he brought within, no stranger at luck's heart. Local antics their own replete, set conc to arrive in them then spin the door's day was to me sent how I'd made inquiry in song and meditation, yr messages plainly done toward whom you sent me. Here you've danced across my room at last the photo in resounding clarity marks the sign coming again a less impulsive record of starts the mooner spin the darner, no sin examination under another glass Hope no mere definition of where'd you bin attached at the lefter hand-set in sentence noun or paragraph for mark internal strokes the heater's mix obtains their lost larks receding intent or other toward her Pealer dusk the throat benign sender that his harps lead aside aloud pins without reference to some inner dude he'd left behind without starts. II Your dick. There's to husk nor powder arts to tune the air between us a message or a palm insetting flavors presume toward the marking time in sent her powered plume resume arc and light time bending. Heart's time flood arrive sense become soon. My luck. ************************* JAKE BERRY PHASEOSTROPHE #30 Tracking heliosphere dangling, the local police fabricate the blue flesh and circulate among the regulars. No rhythm explains griffins dive bombing Mecca, but the black current is a bladder forecasting. Exile is atonement. Swans are forbidden, planting foreskins in Jupiter ash nestled from eyelash to keyhole. Lifeless as bait we gather for doctrine in the wings of chainlink maelstroms wound through succulent bitch.