Q.Z. P.C. (Excerpts From Found Poetry in the Titles and Some Lines From The Poet's Market) by Q.Z. Blaze

In line for a kiss, 94

Beneath the moonlit touch

Of a hooker’s hand

Of course she’s a loved one

Loved one, loved all:

French kisses on me, in her

Favorite women’s room

IN THE

ABATTOIR (92)

SLAUGHTERHOUSE:

PICTURE THAT,

Grief is my (moon) beam, 94

Sucking breeze.

An orange smog carpet of clouds,

The sky is a walnut, 93

A prune,

A lady in waiting

For yet another

Eruption,

Another immortal moment

Inside the rock,

ABSOLUTE. INTERZONE BIZZARE, (94)

ABSCOND (91)

WITH SOME WORDS;

Oh, Summer night! Night without war, 92

Night without the supremacy of white

Snow, don’t you know we all love peace?

Hardeyed, I tell you 94

Love, never a code word,

Forbad

Words of experience

That sounded similar to

“I love you…

Every night, a little more burned out, 92

Sons of sex maniacs and whoremongers

Sons of coming and going with booze

Daughters of the milking breast

Daughters of the hammered hemorrhoid

Fathers of future disease

Fathers of freedom

Mothers of need and greed

Mothers of the wash room

Grandfathers of progress

Grandfathers of mass production

Grandmothers of silent watchfulness

Your fame and glory

Are candles without wax, (wicks floating in oil)

On the nightclub scene

TIED TO THE VIVID

EXPLOSION

The sky is not a velvet cock 92

Nor the earth a womb

Of only warmth

ONLY

ADVOCACY (94)

SUSTAINS

Sister Q.Z. (THAT’S ME!) 92

Had a man who couldn’t please me,

Didn’t even try to tease me,

Needing, as I do, a spank and a whack

When I scratch his brother’s back

I was a fat tub 94

Standing on squat legs

Young and begging

To be entered

But you gave me a diamond scrub

Descended upon me from above

And, in bubblebath crystals,

You brought me lilacs.

Hand above eyes, 94

Squinting, I search the ecliptic

For words in precession, wobbling

Along the Van Allan Belts

Like a toboggan ride down the dark dandruff

Of a permanent wave (the kind you go back to get redone)

SWATTING ASTEROIDS,

AERIAL (94)

FLIES FLY

IN THE FACE OF REALITY.

OKAY, JUST

Statisticate to be unlike meaninglessness 92

GO AHEAD GO AHEAD AND LIVE!!!!

AFRICA WORLD (94)

AFRICAN AMERICAN (94)

AFROHISPANIC (94)

PANIC

AFTER THE END (92)

AGADA (91)

GADFLY PAPER

FRIGHTENS MILD HER

Glastonbury 91

What keeps me away

An obese woman

Once a prisoner of fad

Now retired to a feast

Tiny bits of the best

In the flatlands under the mountains

WITH HER

AGASSIZ (94)

AGENDA (92)

SITTING STONED

AHSAHTA, COLDDRILL (94)

PUMMELED

VORTICE?

WHORE TENSE

SHEBOYGAN

MAN, OH, MAN

I DON’T WANT TO BURN OUT

Until Winter Pops In For a Visit 94

He Reads

A Postcard From Iraq for Christmas

The people snub us

But to surrender. Send toothpaste.

Met many terrible, smelly men barracks crowded.

Great to be on shore patrol, off the ship.

It was a long four months at sea.

I may be home after a second wave

Of blood soaks the sand. Baby’s due

In July. No contraceptives or abortions

Available. It won’t have your eyes.

Your loving wife,

Chastity

WHILE

AILERON TAKES A VOWEL MOVEMENT, (94)

Small blue thesaurus 94

Sits dioxidizing

Dinosaur creations,

Penned plumage

Of toothless tripescented

Feline, pharaohfollowing,

Ankhishly holding sparrows

Like Teflon pterodactyls

LIKE BAD

AIM. (94)

I go to war 93

For my mother’s pasty

Fingers, her orchard,

And glory

The faggots would not leave me alone 92

They went without coming after they pawed

Pubescent me, sharing their loneliness

Like longlicked, swelling penii

And lonely now, youth gone, I search

For company I don’t have to hug

SWOLLEN

ALCHEMY (92)

Do you know your writing on the surface of anything? 93

IF DEPTH MEANS GLORIFICATION OF FICTIONALIZED

ALICE JAMES COLLECTIVES (94)

OR JAMESIANS

WHOSE TONGUELESSNESS

IS A COUNTRY EMBARRASSED, EMBITTERED

UNNOTICED WHO WINS?

Your tree has more circles, 91

Knots from broken branches, leaves that left,

So I use my chainsaw, cut you down to my level,

Sculpt a galloping stallion for friends to fawn over

And leave a giant clearing, too empty for does in

Winter.

By Twit Nevershare 91

I am modeling myself in porcelain

Halfbaked highlights, rerounded

And rerouted in the runny clay,

The glint of light does not enter me

As I shape the outside of my poetry

Whining about rusty locks 92

With back porch bramble words

And implied secrets safe,

But only safe when described as canopeners

Rusting.

I SAY

Grow only? 94

Grow only to … (whatever)?

Not my children

They grow up

Even if they smell

Of fish

All over the Lower East Side 92

Art spills into veins

Is guzzled down gullets

Tangos with terror

And then is forgotten

There lies my mistress in her bed 92

She’d like to move but her limbs are dead

Her mind alive with rainbow wings

ALTERNATIVE (91)

MOODS

ALTERNATIVE (94)

ACTION SOMETIMES

sHIT in THE BUCKet 94

TOTo

ACTIVATES

So much passion 92

Portrayed

To smash

Innocence

Like a gay guy

Just out of his closet

Flashing his

Chocolatechipped dick

ALURA (92)

IN THE AZURE DUST

Words got you clogged? 94

Try a tango

Spring 91

The beautiful brown fingers of Oak in Spring

Are malignant with uncontrolled green budding

Against glorious grey clouds, laden with acid

Too soon, Summer’s leaves will make them look flaccid.

The incandescent sprinkles of distant stars 91

Are porch lights in patterned mythology

Guarding yards where families went supernova

HOT SUN

AMBIT (94)

GAMBIT

SUICIDE GAMBLERS

BUNDLING FARDEL BURDENS

STEPPED ON BY

AMELIA (94)

OH, I’D LIKE TO

HEAL YA

Go to foreign lands 93

To become bilingual

Stay home for homily

AMELIA

AGAIN AGAIN

My cyan indignation 94

At cyanide coloration

Of craft and capability

THE POISON

IS AMELIORATED

BUT NOT BY

AMELIA

Jung in slant rhymes 94

An archetypal “din”

Not to get lost in

IN AN

AMERICAN SQUAREDANCE (92)

TOWN

AMERICAN STUDIES, MARILU, HERLAND (91)

SILLY SHOCK WARRIORS

SHACKLED STILL BY SELFCONCEPT,

Horny hitchhikerhousewife 91

Waves beauty in the wake of trucks

Pieces of poetry scatter

Like a storm cloud, billowing

Backward into the past

BY INCLUSION REALIZED

WITHOUT A GOOD “WHY”

MEET OUR

AMERICAN TOLKIEN SOCIETY (94)

WHY?

BECAUSE

Tolkien’s poetry 92

Schooooooooshes in aluminum

Like the poptop

Of a soda can

THE ALUMINUM TRANSITION OF THE

AMERICAN VOICE (94)

IS SO CLOSE TO THE CHANTS

OF OARSMEN ON SLAVE SHIPS

BUT WE ARE ….. WE ARE

SAVING OURSELVES FOR POSTERITY

A Kid’s Day in Wonderland 94

My mother hates my arsenal

She hides my Ouzi

Reads from books that lie

Outside, real flesh (smiling

Out of gaping wounds) warriors

Fight for freedom, teeth clenched

Under mossy rocks 92

Under (water) pressure

In the muck miasma

Under the big toe of poverty

The sponge

Dreams starfish darknesses

And separation

STRANGLING

ANACONDA (94)

SLITHERING

ANALECTA (94)

DELECTABLE

EAT IT!

Neglect? 92

One less cigarette?

No designer sneakers?

Handmedown clothing?

Leftovers often?

No vacation in France?

Caffree coffee?

How dare you claim

Neglect?

You drive your car 94

Naked

But not without

A seat belt

APPLE

AND CORE (91)

AND CORE

Centered, the silly line soothes and sates. 91

We went for a walk.

DO IT THE WAY I TELL YOU TO.

PARTAKE OF LIBERAL THINKING

AND, OF COURSE,

ANDROGYNE (92)

TOO.

We gather words 92

Like lonely ladies

Calling for demons

To impregnate the pauses

INERT

ANERCA (91)

Most holes are not (W)holes 91

To fall into in the Fall.

Waiting for Winter to winter

The storm, window screens scream, ripped

IN THE

ANGEL SUN (91)

ANGLE SON

DANGLING

FISHSTORY BIG

Her tush

As good as gravy

Her lips

Were wide awake

Why women scream 92

Because of their multiple men

Because of their menstrual release

Because of their mutual isolation

Because they don’t wear rubbers

ANIMAL TALES. (93)

FLOUNDERING

FOUNDRY

FOUNDER

FOUND HER

ANJOU? (94)

DOES FISH SUIT YOU?

ANSUDA (94)

THE

ANT FARM (93)

BUSTLES ENCASE

YOUR GLUTES

HIDING HARRIED PRE

OCCUPATIONS

Does our fence really need 93

Feathers from the dead bird

You dream?

OOPS!

BUSTLE FENCE FALLS

BOUNDARY BROKEN

BUT THE LAND INSIDE IT

IS STILL OURS

FOR NOW

ANTAEUS, ECCO (94)

FOR NOW

ANTERIOR BITEWING (94)

Cold, cold, soothing peace 94

(Full enough? Full enough)

ANTHOLOGY (94)

OF NAMES BIG NAMES

The magician I know 92

Conjured a family

With my mother

Sunday is not his Sabbath 91

Saturday is

Sunday, pulling and bagging,

He rakes Autumn’s refuse.

ANTIGONISH (94)

ANTIGONAD

BUT YOU WITH YOUR LEGS PARTED

ARE MY FANTASY

NOT

ANYTHING THAT MOVES. (94)

His proud march in the gay parade 94

Could have been pride for having, maybe,

Helped to save all humanity

Bahboom! 94

Why so few shootings heard about?

Because grief and fear of grief can turn to rebellion,

Retrograde projectiles aimed backwards up the trajectory?

Posthumous accolades 93

Are better than being forgotten,

Rotten, swamp succor

In the everglades of the immediate

Hokma Nistarah 94

Translates like this

Secret wisdom

Words worried wasted when 92

The man fell on his face

Into the warm wet gutter

Of his woman’s disgrace

BUT I’LL BET SHE HAD FUN, WET FUN

ARNAZELLA (94)

POINTED

ARROWWOOD, (94)

PORCUPINED TREE OF YOUR

ARS (93)

UP YOUR ART!

IN THESE

ART TIMES. (94)

How to think in modernity 92

Make existence a greedy glut

Of lowdollar barrels, rolling

Out to sea. We don’t all get

Bombed but all need energy

Bored and poor 92

Wise and rich men

Wander (wonder, at least)

Women produce

At home with men

Who linger alone

“Never agains” 92

So so “can never go home”

Impregnated

So sure

No miracle will reoccur,

Sit down, so settled

Beneathness 93

You want

A city frozen

Under ice

So that you won’t

Need to put up

With pity

For the chilly mollusks

Creeping into your heart

WHAT SICKLE WISH WAS SUBJECTED

TO THE DOUBLEEDGED

AXE (91)

TO CUT DEEP

FROM THE OBSERVER’S POINT

OF VIEW?

Objective obliteration 91

Doesn’t cut me

COWS COULDN’T MAKE IT IF NOT FOR PROFIT

AXE FACTORY (91)

TO MAKE MORE

TREES

Mussolini was my mistress 91

Hitler was my halter

Hirohito was my hook

Begin was the beginning of another fashion statement

AXIS (91)

THE CRUX IS

THAT

The jeans have his father’s bulges 91

Are worn down at the knees and thighs,

Craftwork jeans embroidered with

Doublehelix spirals and sixties paisley

AXIS (91)

AGAIN

If you come 91

And be nice

To your brother

I’ll bake a cake.

BABY SUE (94)

BABYFISH (LOST ITS MOMMA) (92)

IN A CHICKEN/EGG

QUANDARY

SITTING IN MY

BACKYARD (93)

One single diverseness 93

WITH

BACON (94)

There is an hormonal haze 94

In his testosterone soul

His heart a rutting beast,

Over gonads, that searches

For its next beat

OVER AN EPINEPHRINE CLIFF

HIS LEFT

BALL SIDE O’ FRIES (94)

Radical feminism 94

Side o’ fries

Support

Side o’ fries

Escape

Side o’ fries

Abortion

Side o’ fries

Divine plan

Side o’ fries

Dignity

Side o’ fries

35footlong

Side o’ fries

BANGTAIL (93)

AND TITS

Don’t disparage the drone 93

Look,

The sly part is that those New

York drones don’t need

A queen

BOUNCING HOME

THEY LIVE ON

BANK STREET WITH RED PORT AUTHORITY (94)

Hamhock, sirloin, 94

Filet, shoulder,

Butt and Chuck

He separates his lovers

Into parts

BELLADONNA 91

BRICKLAYER

FALLS TO GROUND

Gravity pulls pagans, too 91

BELLADONNA (93)

FOR A

BELLEVUE (91)

The pretty names, 91

Like colors

And amethyststudded rings,

Are less in their abundance

BELLFLOWER (94)

DISCONTENT

BARK

Picture made, 92

My head crashes

Against the poet’s

Philosophy

The lost snail 91

Slugging along the bricks

Slime sister on concrete

LITTLE

BELITTLE

BELOIT (94)

AND OBSTRUCTION TO ABSTRACTION

Mystical acid queen 94

Becomes

Blind, mute

Secret herbal

Donor of flightless

Frustration

DOING THE MENTAL

BENCH PRESS (92)

THE PECK BUILDER

NEEDS WEIGHT

BENEATH THE SURFACE (94)

UNDER TOADS

UNDER MINING

UNDERWEAR

TO ELIMINATE

ONE EXTRA STAIN

My eyes droop at sound distortion 94

Muffled by a vacuum tightness

In a safe car

On a dark road

Lit by strobe lights.

My father never sleeps

BERKELEY (94)

Chaos is not a butterfly; 92

Butterflies live within

Slipstream geometry

Hamiltonians,

Halftruths to cover

Our waxed and polished,

Shineglossed,

Shellac mistakes

BERKELEY (91)

Mirthmockerymakingishness 91

To tear apart or to expand

Is not always like

The language of rap

Which pseudorefuses to use

Anything white on the page

But not rhyme

The Healthy Child 94

Sleepy eyes, dark hall,

The dull sound of lines and then

A brother calling with thunder

From the lightening street

It has been a long time going 91

But after postmodern man

The word will try for wisdom

Again, not just “Bauhaus” concrete

But organic concrete

And shape won’t matter so much

As long as there are some shoes,

Then, to fit those funny, flat feet.

His Lap Dog 91

Too rich to drive

Myself away,

I stay, sitting

Sad, a tad tipsy,

Isolated like

The litter’s runt

BLACK AMERICAN (93)

A peaceful hidden war 92

Where are the white women?

Waiting on this line

Or taken through the back door

(Not now the socialpariahindication

It used to be?), it may be

The very last fixation

Of economic disproportion,

To get those nagging nosy white women

Out of the house and local affairs,

So moan

BLACK BEAR (94)

Clapping its intestine 93

Name the news event 91

Blame the blood

Versify variations

Of Voltaire’s What Frenchman

Was it? maggots

Growing out of a cat’s

Vagina; telling the whore

“That soon will be you”

And hit the stomach

The groin, the heart

The brain, with one

Tiny, little, rosecolored stain.

Somehow, the maggots 92

And oatmeal

Connect

By my scorn

Tries to put a hierarchy

Upon the food chain

Tries to separate the superficial

From a shotgun facial

Tapioca from Topeka 94

Toast on a Buttered Tray

Tea to the Side

Visit from A Boyfriend Who Smelled of Perfume and Stale Sex

Sickly drowsed

Sickly heard weeping

Sickly survived

To write

Sickly verse

BLACK BOOKS (94)

BLACK THOUGHTS

BACKSTABBED BY BAD IMPRESSIONS

BLACK BOUGH (94)

Easter Mourning 94

Children

Running naked

Egg shells breaking

Secret knowledge is 94

A fetus festering unborn

But, Daddy didn’t do it! 91

on joy 94

oh, joy!

enjoy on joy. enjoy joy.

enjoy joy on joy.

on joy, enjoy joy.

BLACK RIVER

RUNNING FROM MY TWAT

(WHAT A THOUGHT)

Ageism all old men don’t have loose teeth 94

Serpentsight most pines are straight

Fear of more than just “frictions”

Children are always throwing death

In their parents’ faces

BLACK SCHOLAR (94)

Your jello is unformed 92

I sit in the cold

To help it mold

I know no philosophy 92

That can not be abused

But who ever said

We shouldn’t have girls

As children because

They might get raped?

Branflake farts and dirty dishes? 93

BLANK GUN ??????? SILENCER (94)

UPSET

Sometimes truth leaks out 91

Of Winter’s broken pipes

Unintended

I spit into the cold 94

Dark corridors of your soul

To lubricate the vamp you were

YOU KNOW I HATE TO PICK ON THE LITTLE GUYS

BUT POETS ARE ALL BIG IN MY EYES

HAVE TWENTYINCH PENII AND BASKETBALLS

OR AT LEAST DILDOS TO STRAP ON

TO REAM THE EDGES OF THE TRUTH,

AND TONGUES AND LIPS AND FINGERS FOR LATER

TO SOOTHE ANY PAIN THAT’S CAUSED TO

YOU PECKERHEADS,

YOU PUCKERED PUSSIES,

BLUE LIPS STUCK TO

BLUE BUILDINGS (91)

BLUE GUITAR (92)

Player with blue fingers 92

Plucks pensively, painted

For effect, he watches t.v.

Frets about t.b., drips

Blood from his fingertips,

Examines his sperm, his life,

His worth during daytime.

There is a difference between chewing up children 94

And not stopping the cannibals

So, America is timid, a bystander wussie,

In horror, numbed to complacency by compromise

Selfconscious 92

Still see

Depth

In her newmade

Love poetry

The swan flew faster than ever 94

For fearfrozen fish,

Dived and then

BAM!!!!

Headfirst it glided through clear ice,

Outside the Pyrex factory;

A feather landed in the snow

Gotta give you something to see? 92

The canoe glide describes the real me

The gilded leaf my golden thoughts

The creamcolored corn my segments

The blue fetus, unborn, my past tense? (is that it?)

Rosegarnished 92

Dinner

A lost recipe

Describing grief

Because love

Can be laughed at

(whereas laughing at grief is not PC)(That’s a TLA and

this is a TLA only that TLA is a twoletteranagram and

this one is three)

STUCK IN A

BOGG (94)

She thought New York 94

Was a state

Of mind

You give yourself too much credit 92

To think the bank

Will keep your records and give you a history

After all your debts are paid.

A Waitress Visiting Chicago Yells 94

“Na na na poo poo

Owwwwwher

Jazz

Is better than

Yoooooouuur

Jazz!”

And I call it finderskeepers poetry

But you do see the deep meaning, don’t you?

Alice Walker from fiction class 94

Shows up in Marilyn’s poetry

Showup toeup

SPARKING

BOREALIS (94)

AURORA NIPPLES

Often, awake, I see 94

Mice and rabbits

Running across the page,

Knowing that your poetry

Understands

The seen better than the dream

You keep falling deeper 94

Into suicidal bliss,

Imagining how pretty

All the red will be

Against this season’s fashions

Sleep tight 91

Blanket’s big enough

To ward off

Fitful images

WELL

DONE WITH THOSE BLACK AND BLUELINED EYES

DONE WITH

BOUILLABAISSE (94)

BEEFY BABES

BOULEVARD (94)

Barmaid titmouse 92

With a pocket full

Of cheese

Doesn’t want to sell

Much more than sleaze

AND THE BOUILLABAISSE, BEEFY BABES, BOULEVARD ANTHEM

BIM BAM BOOM BOOMS

IN THE SOULS OF TESTOSTERONE BIMBOS

(AND ON A NOTE OF MORE ROMANCE, INSTEAD OF CALLING ME A BIMBO

SHOULDN’T I BE CALLED A BIMBA?)

BIM BAH BOOM

BOX YOUR DOG FEMINIST. THE BASEBALL (93)

BOUNCES INTO A

BOX (92)

OF CRACKERS

CRACKING JOKE, BONE AND GUM

The gogo girl 91

Came

To sit on

His Saturday

Suntan

Went without

Waiting

For (money) day

BRUNSWICK (94)

BECOMES ASH

WHEN THE LOVEWAX

WANES

DNA tells 93

Of shape, not soul

Becoming “I”

BUFFALO SPREE (94)

CHIPS OR DIPS

(DON’T SATISFY.)

Separatist! 94

Does it soothe your guilt

To stay away

When confronted

By a cloudy day?

I GOTTA GET A

BUYLINE

BYLINE (94)

Sleep poet sleep 92

Your dreams are more true

Your apathy

Tells more about

Your nature,

The searching for sounds

Degrades your sense,

Your blanket more comforter

Than an untangled phrase

CACHE (91)

CASHED GREEN

Cash crop 91

Confused

Corn

Cop(e)

CAESURA (91)

IN A CRAMPED

CAFE (94)

Sperm suspension 94

Without suspense

CALLALOO (93)

INFRINGING UPON

CALLI’S (93)

CALYX (94)

RIGHTS

She won’t let me come 91

When she goes out;

In her turning from culture

Lies

The feminine turning from mother

Just as much

CAMELLIA (94)

CAN’T CONNECT

Horniness is to handguns 91

Shopping is to babies

no….

Horniness is to handguns

Sun is to pudding

no….

Horniness is to handguns

Poetry is to propaganda

(the big lie kind, not like good bullshit,

not tainted by only truth and omission)

Cribbage 91

We peg for points

Look for pairs and threesomes

Doubleskunk when we can

Play listless

Play

Birds 93

How pretty they are

Before the pellets hit them

Barrenness was planted 92

In that Winter field

By only one frost

And a proclivity for gold

Rather than the green

Shoots of family farming

With heaters and husbandry

CANDLESTONES (94)

(OR GALLSTONES),

SELFISH LITTLE SURPRISES

Oh, those barbaric Euros 94

Such nasty colonizing creatures!

Melonmush 94

Is the honeydew

Green or orange?

Is the daughter seed

White inside?

A CAROLINA? (91)

Or does she see 91

Colors as tripping

Tools over poetry

Stumps

And taboo humps

CAROLINA (93)

Anything sucking 91

Reminds me of

What you said

About my poetry

Everything creaking

And wrinkled and poor

Glows on the wet face

Of youth you adore

Bills for the cleanser? 92

Jeff and Jim?

Clean fire?

Freeloading initiative?

“Excellence” abridged?

CAROLINA WREN (94)

CHIRPING

Poetry lives as long 92

As pen meets paper

In any gutter or penthouse

Where there is feeling to express

Or thought to share

But good poetry goes

Where great poetry doesn’t dare

And will until the penthouse pet

Kisses the gutter dog with glee

And calls the barking “great poetry”

I sit with Superman, Margaret Sanger, 94

Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa,

Ghandi, and any other great name

I can think of, pretending

To hold their hands, in my attempt

To hold your attention.

Siniod at Maggie’s Nipple 92

Taut horizon

Pitted face of the moon

Rolling, round hills

Licked by lightning

TO BE A POET, YOUR DAD MUST HAVE BEEN A DRUNK

OR YOU MUST PRETEND HE WAS

AND IF HE ABUSED YOU SEXUALLY OR HIT YOU, ALL THE BETTER

FOR THIS NEW DADDY PRETENSE.

MINE LOVED TO BITE NECK

MOUNT A CAT

CATAMOUNT (94)

The boy is eating breakfast 94

In a place to be called

“The house of cracked eggs”

WHICH LED TO

CATHARTIC (94)

PUSSY DAYDREAMS

Sex queen 91

Starved for psychic

Salivation,

Lips licked,

Eyes popping out,

And other

Manifestations of

A sex scream

“More! Bigger!

Deeper!”

TO INFECT THE

CAT’S EAR (94)

Nobody is home 94

When

Nobody is foreign

WITHOUT EAR MITES

CATS (94)

PURR

INKY OCTOPUS

Fucking 92

Baby

Sucked

Out

Chicken Little 94

Pops out

When the sky falls

Castration versus 92

“Ripping their tits off”

CHANGING MEN

Curry and oil? 93

Farts and fellatio?

They refuse to breed any more assholes 94

On a theme of incest or not

Being concerned about family planning

His brother had to stop buggering him

THEY SWITCH

CHANNELS, CURRENTS (92)

CHANTRY (94)

PANTRY

Your “rage” will 92

Upset the rhythm

Of the message

Of the massage

Of the masturbation

Huff and puff away, lupine bitch 94

…… Huh?

I can’t HEAR you!

CHANTS (93)

Warm worm? 93

Perversions 92

For

Plantations

NO FORCED

CHASTITY (93)

NO MOIST

JAZZ TITTY

AND

Everything 91

Progresses

Better into

Proud putrefaction

Explode into soy sauce 93

Oh, my porkfried soul

Explode into bowel movement,

Into vomit, to exorcise

Those nasty sin balls

CHATTAHOOCHEE (94)

IS FREE

A Good Date 94

He grabbed my hair

And pulled

And pushed

CHELSEA (93)

CHICKADEE (94)

Chewing china 94

SLAPS YOUR KNUCKLES

FOR DREAMING OR TAKES UP THE SLACK WITH

The horny lightpost standing guard 94

Sometimes I know how it feels

She wishes AIDS upon breeders? 91

Sick fucking poems about sick fucks! 92

Oh, I feel a kindred spirit 94

To a cussing American Indian

(Do I get published, now? … oh… Native American… shit!

wrong again)

I’m old but I’m rich 94

And I’m a poet

Full of

Goblet wailings

And lucky rain

So, fuck me good

Or I’ll complain

You’re not enough

And then you’ll be

Up shit’s creek

With only rope for

A paddle

Still breaking glass 94

About Crystal Nacht

And hiding in the homes

Of the unchosen

Paranoia 92

Is the modern

Classic

It seems to be morning, Sour Puss. 94

You don’t need to purr

Until you get your coffee

In the kitchen and suck it down

Mountain so big 94

Me so small

Mention mountain

To excuse “me” extrapolations

WALLET WATCH

CLOCKWATCH (94)

YUPPEES

YUP, YUP, UP

Is Minsk the only specific 92

With accordion flowers,

Expanding stars,

Hillhaloed sky

And a thousand million smiles

To share?

WITH

CLOTHESPIN FEVER (91)

Clothespin fever 91

spin fever

in fever

in ever

in Eve

I’ ve

“I”

PEELED OUT IN THE STRETCH MARKS

All I see is the ugly, 94

Pretending so hard to be pretty.

I am pretty. I am.

Orgy or children’s storybook 91

Puzzle with two pieces

To piece and sheets

To separate sweat dance

Dribble from burning friction

And overhead fiction, outside,

Looking down, crispening sheets

And smoky smells to stoke

The fire of revision

White Trash 92

I cry honk

Without any rhythm

MY FATHER AS

COLABORER (94)

METICULOUS

Women grossed out 94

By their children

DRAFTED

A GRID OF DESCARTES

A GRID TO MAKE ART

A GRID TO PLANT THE SEEDS

A GRID IRON TO UNWRINKLE CLOTHES

A GRID TO MEASURE THE SHAPE OF HIS FACE

A GRID IN THE ROUGH

A GRID OF INTENSITY COLDER THAN NITROGEN

COLDDRILL (91)

SOLDIER DRILLED

Biology Boot Camp 91

Minds gorged

Collaboration companions

Shower and soap

The drivel of doctors

Who try to confuse

With philosophy I never

Wanted and jumbled lectures

Or prescribed scripts

That allow me to let them

Draw the course

Of suicide (not mine) dreams

So we can say

College was tough

One guy died

But we made it out

Almost unscathed

COLLAGES AND BRICOLAGES (94)

OF EXISTENTIAL

SERVITUDE

Don’t believe a word I say? 94

She left her corks 91

On the counter

Like a bandage kept

From a warrior’s first wound

Rilke screamed 92

But you didn’t listen

(He was dead and white)

Or did you?

“Let people die their own little death,

Each the one they choose!”

They lived a life for it, didn’t they?

How can you condemn the way they look

Or feel on the way out?

From a seething pool 94

Of industrial pollutants

Grow pretty, little flower mutants

Les Grands Mots a la Cote des Mots 94

Go ahead!

Tell me you know

More about war

Because you went to a school

That taught you French

Cuntlicker 91

I’m a cunt licker with long tongue

I eat them alive

But can’t tell you that

In a plain simple way,

Hide behind the mask

Of solopseudopsychology

And “your turn today”

COLUMBUS SINGLE SCENE (92)

Why not frame the remains? 92

Bronze the toothpick he used;

Put the wine glass under glass

With a touch of red wine and his dribble

Still inside, vacuum seal it.

He comes; he goes.

You don’t desperately need him

He comes; he goes.

You won’t leave up the toilet seat

He comes; he goes.

A COMMON SQUEAL

Finger, you “obscene” silly symbol, I watch 94

Myself blaming you for this expression

Now you won’t pick my nose or enter her crotch

And my hand gets the blame for this digression

Thesis 94

Antithesis

Synthesis

Thesis

Momma abused my mind 91

Daddy didn’t do a thing

He knew

What did he do about it?

She said she was being kind

Ignored his suffering

And mine.

Multibigots 94

Bag the big bucks

The little bigots

With only one cause

Are too damn real to be political

They really try to express how they feel

And everyone knows that’s dangerous and stupid

Honest bigotry is stupid

Like poverty is a mental illness

So the multibigots who only pick on the

Silent minorities, the multibigots

Bag the big bucks and sail away in their

Big yachts for bigots

Justice 93

Just

Ice

In this desert

Melting for money

BUT NOT

THE COOL TRAVELER (94)

On Washington Square 92

Bug carpet leaves

Sail on the wind

Multiple visions

Of a greybrown

Day, insect eyes

That don’t see

“The Bottom Line”

Trinkets of erotica, shattered romance 92

In twisted love dance crystal

Of diminishing frequency

Refracted into an infinity

Of excuses

Certain times 93

Newborn certain time

In timeless now

Times within the now

Oh, yeah, and love moving universes

Celestial music and

“Calm” fucking “the storm”

I will seal some strawberries 94

In the hubcap of my orneryness

And throw them in the pamplemousse pudding,

Like fate with a twist of lemon,

For your mother to eat

Flowerless husband 92

Bearing bulbs

Removes his wife’s leg

From his flatulence.

Outside, bed bugs

Run to the warmth

Of hot air

Under satin sheets

THE

COUNCIL FOR INDIAN EDUCATION? (94)

WHY NOT GOOD EDUCATION?

ANYWAY MORE THAN AN INDIAN

DIA (DIE A OR DYE A)

TRIBE

CHILDREN NEED TO SURVIVE WITH HOPE, MAN!

SO HE SAID,

“DON’T CALL ME MAN!

I HAVE THE RIGHT

TO BE CALLED WHAT I WANT TO BE CALLED

SO, DON’T CALL ME MAN TOO MUCH BAD HISTORY

FROM NOW ON I WOULD PREFER TO BE CALLED,

IN FACT, I INSIST ON BEING CALLED

`EARTHENTITY, GREAT BIG WONDERFUL TITTYQUESTOR, WHO MUST BE

BOWED BEFORE, HORMONAL BEING WHO SETS FIRE TO EMOTIONS,

MASTER OF SEX AND SENSUALITY, HORMONAL GENIUS, IRRESISTIBLE

PIONEER OF INNER SPACE AND FLAWLESS STRENGTH OF SUCCESSFULNESS

EMBODIED, WHOM EVERYONE FALLS TO THEIR KNEES IN FRONT OF

TO PLEASURE AND BEG FOR THAT BIGGEST OF PENISES THAT A WOMAN

COULD POSSIBLY HANDLE, TO PLEAD FOR REPRODUCTIVE SEED, MENTOR

TO ALL AND A NICE HUMBLE SOUL (IN COMPARISON TO HOW GREAT I

REALLY AM)’ IF YOU CARE TO ADDRESS ME”

I REPLIED “SHOW ME”

YOUR

COUNTRY JOURNAL (94)

Whoa, bloodstone! 92

Flowers catch fire 91

Her words were like curds? 94

SCATTERED ON

COUNTRY ROADS (92)

So they expose themselves to a rose? 92

COUNTRY WOMAN (94)

Turns the earth (also the one with the capital) 92

WITH

COUNTRYMAN (94)

Carbohydrate cravings 92

Abridge an asphalt escape

You are distracted by pizza smells

On our drive to a glistening garden

Salt lick suckers 93

Froglike toads

Weather or not

We wear our thick skin

I’m going to say 94

Some really nice

Sensitive things

And then say,

“Hey! Trust me.”

Does not the “fishwife” have the strength 94

(I believe she does) to be “independent”

With her fisherman at her side?

CREATIVITY (94)

Your fertilizer falls 94

Unto other people’s lawns

In a Cadilac world 94

Nymphs attend

Another painting

On the lip of your KT boundary 94

I count 26 million years

With my fingers

WITH

CROSSCULTURAL (94)

FLAVOR

Side to side 92

In front of me

Swinging

Up and down

For fantasy

Becoming 94

Becomes you

Being

Am not yet

Whoreship 94

Boatloads

Miracle bodies

Display children

“Nothing thoughtless” 94

We are the beached flurry

There still are pockets 94

For the jingling change

Of your dreams and desires

Baby clamfetus was 94

You

Tossed away

Finger fucker 91

Lover

Water wells 92

Dream folds

Light washes

This squashes

Offense, pretense,

Any sense the poem

Dies in the colors

Of sunset and song

Wells up to take its place

Another wife 92

Wishing for

Separation

A state,

A lone star,

A bank failure,

After threatened divorce

Paint a picture with your best colors 91

If black oil be on your brush

And a black spot in the heart

Of your canvas, why paste minced words?

EXTRAPOLATION

ESCHEWS BLUES

DEVIANCE (92)

I, we, love peace 91

No poetry is needed

To say that

Human nature 92

Is human’s nature

Web, thread, spun, tongues

Carpet, ceiling, soundings

Rhetoric, ideology

And all

DICKER, DICKER, PICKER

PICK HER;

SHE’S A GOOD TROPHY

The elite, 91

Bored

A hemp head hidden in hyperbole 93

Doo Dat by Baa Baa Am E’more 94

Whah woo wake

Fffffffffum offfffffff

Mah wiffffp??

ENTALONED RAPTORS IN RAPTURE THROES DIVING INTO

EARTH’S DAUGHTERS (94)

SHOCK WARRIORS

SHOCKED WARRIORS

Eating seeds 91

Silent

Falling eggs cushioned

By crunchy snow

Maiden form

Frescos

The multipline shallots 94

Of midnight secrets

Between maiden spinsters

Are replanted to keep

Men from sharing

In virgin contact

Saving them for all the evil

Vile things women don’t want

The smell of, garlic onions

That overtake the garden

To keep away the rabbits

Poxy “Proxies” 94

Give up your virgin

Land

Or we will pull out our

Germs

Factories don’t neglect 94

Children with guns

All federal forms 92

Must now be in Chinese

And Swahili,

German and Japanese

And French and Farci

(Persian) Arabic, Icelandic,

Scandinavian Oh! …. Oooooops!

It’s because they’re such a large minority

That they want forms in Spanish

(not to mention Texas and California)

Majority minorities get their own paper.

EL GATO TUERTO (91)

I need a couple of years 91

To learn my Greek and mythology

Oh! and the Roman, too,

And about six years to learn dead Latin,

And to learn Calculus like new math,

Like Newton did, all the steps and progressions,

How many years for that?

EL TECOLOTE (94)

ELDRITCH (94)

THE ELEVENTH MUSE (93)

SATURATES SATURDAY PICNICS

Time distortion 93

For poetry’s line

The catsup smells homey 91

The way Grandma did

Women poets 94

Get published

Best as poets

The best women

Poets are degraded

By a female poetry

Niche

GENETIC

ENCOUNTER (91)

PIPETTE

MISENCOUNTER WITH THE

ENITHARMON (94)

MALICIOUS

ENVOI, (94)

Yeah, right all old men 94

With “spoiled milk” eyes

Are beggars and drunks

EPOCH (94)

GONE AND ALWAYS APPROACHING, EXCEPT ONCE, THE

EQUILIBRIUM EAGLE (93)

EQUINOX (93)

IN THE NADIR

ESCAPIST (92)

ESSENCE (94)

Rewriting History 91

no, nothing new for nubians

Akhenaton was a sonofa

Bugger genetic deficient, inbred

According to the history I read

And Nubians were not well used

My shorting can not touch your stamping 94

My shortning can not touch your vamping

My snorting can not touch your tramping

My chortling can not touch your cramping

EUROPEAN JUDIAISM (94)

Women 94

Wishing men

Were wisps

Memories of mementoes

History will never shrug enough 92

For smoky bones and poetry

Once, 94

Was so soon ago

SOME CHARITY

EXPEDITION (94)

To the tennis courts 92

Daring the safari sun

Pay 92

For your life

Or life

Without pay

No Wonder They’re Wimps 94

The court case

Displays

Bobbit glans

Bahloons 94

Six pense

Wadeyed

The perky nymphettes

Stir and snatch their Spring

Drools, while I, boss, task it out,

You play, you work, you get laid, you

Collect cucumbers from the garden,

You shear the weeds and Bobbits

Being only figuration 93

Was a figment

Of you margarination

A frig meant to console homogenization

IN THE GUNNEL AS FLOTATION,

SHOCK WARRIORS GET AWAY

WITH POETRY THEY WOULD HATE

IF NOT FOR CAUSE, COOKED OVER

A CAMPFIRE OF TINDER,

BITTER SAUCE WITH TOO MUCH SEASONING

FENNEL (93)

IN MY TOOTH GAP

Slice of fiction poetry pies 93

FIDDLEHEAD (94)

SQUEAKING

Always about father’s leaving 92

He left over pavement

Left you two thousand a month

I pray you never have to know

The forces that drove him away

He left because of what 91

You were looking for,

Didn’t like the midnight rain

Cold, dripping down engorged sponges

Ran from the whip

Wanting a fifty/fifty wife

And a fifty/fifty life

BLOODIED BY A PREGNANT

FIGHTING WOMAN (94)

Don’t leave the martial kiah!room 91

If that’s where all your power resides

Prop 94

Gand(er)Ganda

Columns

(But not stacked)

NO LONGER

FIGMENT (94)

FIGURES (94)

Bulbous blather about figurines 92

Figures to be bought

Finally saying,

“Stars are stars and amazing enough”

NO!

Stars are the explosions in my head!

FINE MADNESS (94)

TO BE

A SOLITARY MEMBER OF A SINGLESOUL FAMILY

The Organic Chemistry of an Idea 94

Stabbed in the gut with an icicle

Melting and mixing with tomato effects

Strangely vacuous, thinking is an event

Thinking that thinking is an event is an event

Funny way to drink ice water

Oh, I healed and heeled

But that’s not the end of all these events

Couch potato events and versifying events

And then one needs imagery to justify

And it is a necessary event

Unlike the event of writing that thinking is events

So, here’s a picture, too

An avalanche of rings removed from divorced fingers

Rolling down and lighting up the lake bottom

With sparkling knives of memory….. events

Dripping cold under my dress, over pantyhose

Shock flashes, stars of pain, icicle memory,

Spanking me, yanking the nipples of an idea.

Bullwhip lust 91

Cat’s cradle musk

Moribund

Malfeasance

And not turpitude,

Yet

FIREBRAND (94)

ON HER RUMP

COULD BE MORE DEGRADING

AUTOMATED TEST TUBE TAKES THE JERK’S

JERK OFF HIS HANDS, BECOMING “RECIPIENT”

Damn straight! 94

You gave nothing but speed bumps

Looked long and narrow

Like a highway over the horizon

But were a parking lot

WARMING THE

FIREWEED (94)

INSTINCT

FIRING THE BEE PISTOL

MAKING WEED OF THE STAMEN

STAY MEN DON’T LEAVE THE LOST

THAT NEVER KNEW

Blah, breaking up is hard to undo 94

POUNDING VULCANIZED PLASTIC

FISHDRUM (94)

I.U.D.

Baby’s a UPS package at the door? 92

Hoplophobia 94

Streetsweeper words

Chickenpecked imagery

Alphabetical hallucinations

Multisyllabic semiautomatic

2 down one to go

Pressed religion brown dandelions in yellow books

The militia of the new monarchy wait a second

Amend or become outlaw

What can still be painted

Tax words tax bullets

Driveby media law

Ancestry impales? 91

Memory pulls us into place?

What mirror cracks

In front of your face?

MAYBE, IF IT ISN’T WORK TO KEEP LOVE ALIVE,

I WANT TO BE THERE WHEN I RETIRE

Makeup for men 94

To undistinguish them

FORBIDDEN LINES (93)

Horror 93

Blood

Gore intestines

Digesting food

As Vice President

BECAUSE MOST CHILDREN ARE NOT SAFE NOT SAFE NOT SAFE

WE KEEP OUR TWO IN PRISON

SHOO AND SHOUT OTHERS INTO CAGES,

AWAY FROM US, IN OUR SUBURBS

IN A FOREST OF

FOREST BOOKS (94)

FOUR ZOAS (91)

BECAUSE ON THE SINGULAR PATH OF PROGRESS

BABY’S A NEW

GENETIC PROTOTYPE

IT WILL HEAR AND IMITATE YOUR

FOX CRY (94)

Your big fucking words 94

That enfold mistaken meaning

The detritus of premature ejaculation

FREE FOCUS (94)

Free salt for your wounds 94

Free focus for us females

Forget it for guys

YOUR

OSTENTATIOUS

BIKINI CUISINE

Home soon 91

You harness your hatred

In bald critiques

The wash woman 92

Folding, unfolding

Laundered bills

Tape crinkles, strewn 93

Hand to hifi

Rips favorite tune

People are the candy 92

Sold in city buildings

In those words 93

I hear that droning voice

That “This is poetry” voice

That “this has religious sanctity”

Voice

Hypnotizing

Without

Hip

tizing

(and no floated titty to exercise the tongue and lips

and mouth, to boot!)

Harmless? 94

Unnatural humans

Again a center of another circle?

(Dissenter of coanything)

Worshipping rodents?

Stumblestream, brambleflesh

Swimburrow, streammeadow

Harmless forgiveness?

Black passion 94

Jungle fever?

Pet a dark animal

To find out where it eats?

What is bad? 94

What is badly?

What is badly written

If this is not?

This is the panting oxen

Of blue cheer

Tullied and sullied

And caught by the balls

I saw we’re more like waves 93

That pull away the beach

And keep coming back for more

I say we’re more like wind

Which winds its way

Anywhere it wishes

I say we’re more flexible

And, even though the dreams

I had didn’t turn out the way

I’d imagined, my father was right,

“You can be whatever you want to be

It’s all a matter of what you’re willing

To give up”

Letting oranges sit crinkling 92

For history’s dry potpourri

I’ve got to say something about asking for what you want 94

in a way that people can understand

Fuck any considerations of anything poetic, 94

Throw in Tina and What’s Love Got to Do With It?

GOING GAGA (92)

Over ambiguity? 92

I’ll never get over ambiguity

Or underpants

Starving

Circle

Shares me

With its

Disconnected

Innards

And now, years before, to precall dry dirt,

the skinny, solid, darkness that stuck,

that separated around she and me(I?)

Evenings (She and I evenings?) old times, overripe,

sinking to the whore, neither being the last Eve,

found or lost not to forget, to spit bitter bile, sperm

Out of the hard void

Slap the shit out of that boy. 93

Tie him up if you have to.

Take away that damnable glue

He sniffs then talk talk talk

Talk talk talk talk talk the other

Glue, talk love until he listens

Or loses his faith in release

My best friend keeps saying 93

She doesn’t want to live

But means she wants to be spoiled

The reindeer can live without 91

Your faith in them

But not if you kill them

If you kill them all Simple isn’t it?

Sometimes underwater, 91

Plato’s cave echoes

With loose theorems

And skipped steps

Escaping from the cave

Even night is light

Opening into air

As you adjust your vision

Getting out of there

Just use a Tampax 94

And drop your toil

You embrace your nightmares 92

Write and talk about them

To hide deeper fears

About worlds you didn’t save

One line alone? 92

At the speed of light your father is infinite mass 92

According to Einstein’s rules.

Inertia is not subjective and not dependent upon

Stalling motion, even yours.

Gravity sucks and puffs out its own grief.

Father’s rules were better to listen to.

Pearlhandled revolver turns 93

So, you exercise and write. I’m glad you have the time.93

The old guys knew you had 92

To work until the work was done

And only some looked

Beyond the horizon

No one told them 94

That July Seventh

Would not be a Tuesday

No!

No one told them

That the fairy

Had a tail

No!

No one told them

That no one told them

Artichoke 92

I never saw a rainstorm of children

Or an art

Choke

At the throttle of fad

Queen bee 91

Lies about the honey

Spiraling anchor cord 91

No anchor shape nor weight

At one end, no attachment

To the other, floating yellow

Nylon in a greygreen sea

You’re not half done yet, hamburger, 91

Don’t make me eat you raw

The last thing a restaurant ever was 92

Was a food factory

The last thing marriage was

Was silence.

Cat and dog love analogies 92

Are wrong

Because cats are not bitches

FILLED WITH

HERESIES (94)

Licking words like loins 92

Pushing nose closed

Developing a brussels sprouts taste

For the bitter side of the finger

In a trash can not

The Culinart

HERSPECTIVES (94)

LET THE HOUSE ROT AWAY

Shock warriors shaking 94

With pyromania

and Phlegm

My reason 92

Is rejected

By a deceived daughter

Sucking milk from someone

Else’s mother

Net 93

Working

Is for fisheries

Who’s a Hecht? 94

That’s okay

Any memoriam of yours

Is a memoriam of mine

HOLMGANGERS (94)

GANGBANGERS GOING WILD,

WITHOUT SUFFIXES

Icy hole cut 91

For frozen fish

Clothespin freedom 94

The wind pulls and pushes

The trapped clothing of bodies

That are sailing over the ocean

On Sunfish I can barely see,

Bobbing against the horizon

HOPEWELL (94)

PROMISES THAT THE CHILDREN WILL SOON PLAY

HOPSCOTCH (94)

In pregnant respite 92

She flows familial

Spitting out words

About selfishness

About the bitter taste

Our baby finds

Antacid frustration

And no Mozart

Now, “Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout” 94

HOW(EVER) (91)

THE

HOWLING DOG (94)

MUST GO

Paying for Rebocks 91

Rather than a good school

Book

Your husband made such a fuss about your diary 94

And you, of course, sent it to me

ICE COLD (94)

Happy, nappy 94

Unarrested

Dresses

That incite

Desperate freedom

Stabs from

Baggypanted

Conformists

Grandma was a Santa Claus to the mind 92

Sang lullabies to babies

As gifts

Yeah, 92

I can’t tell

You what these

Lines are really about

Talking

Like an insurance adjuster

Asking questions

After an incident

The equator 93

Ate her

Canned ants 94

Dipped in chocolate

Canned aunts

Served with sour cream

Fanned “Can’t”s

Brighten flames of alien

Edibles

Tighten my gullet

Around a chirping

Swallow

Systems succumb

To the hauntings

Of hunger

Sink o’ duh my oh! 94

Sank o da mayo

Please do not tax me

In a foreign tongue

Translation needs a poet

Not a cunning linguist

Not a slapface family man

To run me

Down

By percentages

To divide

To conquer

All the goods are mean 94

To immigrant 91

Elitism

I say, “Unpile

Your cartons

They’re wet on the bottom”

Heplophobes 94

Try to outlaw

My feminine mystique

Whose 94

Fetus

Mends

Memory?

DO YOU

IRON (94)

TIES

BORED, OVER THE IRONING BOARD?

ISRAEL (94)

IS REAL

ISSUE ONE (92)

THE FETAL TISSUE ISSUE, ALONG WITH

ALL

ISSUES (94)

TWISTED

ITALIAN (94)

PRETZEL PONTIFICATIONS WITH ONE

ITALICA (94)

Of the house I must say 93

I let the termites,

Cockroaches, ants

Mice, rats and robbers

Carry it all away

House symbols 94

More cracks

To lick with love’s

Psychodrama

Painted with spittle

Sinking into the soft foundation

Of mortality

The center sagging

In a wide gaping smile

Wipe you achtung ass/ papa’s got to come 94

THROUGH ROETHKE TO

JAMES JOYCE (92)

JUDI K’TUVIM (94)

You told me that prophets said 92

That the end will come

When Zion lives for twentyfive years

Without war, create you own hell

On earth, make war on

A regular schedule,

Every time I say “I love you”

Imagine 94

The way Münch

Would have painted

Judi

Howlee heritage 92

Hewn

Houses

Have hampered

Hawaii?

You nibble the central vein 94

Of vanity

Cinderella, shoes 94

In hand, ready to trade

Nothing satisfies

The line

Searching for a period

Keeping alligators 92

Out

Of our living rooms

We poison the pond

Unions 91

Make work

A dirty word

Soul Sister Q.Z. 91

I don’t understand why the women who do so

So hate me for nothing. I was first in line

For equality, still speak out against double standard

Fuck you! 92

Dickdangler!

If only blacks can sing the blues

Then only whites can rule

Only women can nurture

Only Greeks can philosophize

Only Jews like Einstein and Oppenheimer can really kill

LA NUEZ (93)

All that Spanish 92

To make me feel

Speech/

Less

Looking for the aisle

Where they keep the collard greens

LACTULA (94)

LACTATING

LADIES (92)

You let your children take advantage 92

Of vicarious greed

And time not spent on them

Under kerosene or campfire light

Or the precious purity of poverty’s muse

LIKE THE

LAKE EFFECT (92)

BUT NOT

MOSQUITOES ALONG THE

LAKE SHORE (94)

Widows 94

Wanting

Windows on the world

Worry about

Wanton moments

With wasted gigolos

Wrinkles and riches

With real words

A rarity

Stuck, broken, on a halfsawed limb 91

THE LEADING EDGE (94)

OF REBELLION

IS JELLO

Cocksucker poetry 92

Making sperm pretty

Bitter about the bitterness

Of beer and poisons

But mentioning only oysters

Not realizing the symmetry

Once upon a time 93

There used to be men roaming the land

Now men hide in the forest

Of rhetoric

Going to war 92

They gloat about glory

Because a bluff is better

Than a cliff edge

Some days deserve 92

A good spanking

Homey hexagons 91

Are not enough reward

For the waxworm crowded Queen Bee

I have a message 92

And it is,

“I have a message”

Holocaust 93

Genetic

Memories?

Pap 92

Smear

Finds junk

Did Martin 94

Pound the pud

With two prostitutes

Did he go to bed

With commun(e)

Ists?

Domesticated 93

Cool and hasslefree

UnAfricanized

Honey bee

Riot Runouts 94

Los Angeles

Heplophobes

Went to stores

To buy the familiar

Rewriting history 94

Through today’s

Wobbling mirror

Is like

Siting on a baby

Because it

Reminds you of what you looked like,

Once upon a time

The musk on Fire Island 92

Is as thick as chicken hawks

On the fly

LOS HOMBRES (94)

FALL PREY TO THE KNIFE

OF ANTIVIOLENCE CAMPAIGNS

THAT ARE READY TO CUT OFF

THEIR TESTOSTERONE JUST BECAUSE

IT MAKES THEM FRISKY

LOS HOMBRES LOST HOME BOYS

REAMS WRITTEN

ELITISM REDISTRIBUTED

MEMORABLE MOMENTS BY INVITATION ONLY (91)

It was a legend of a myth 91

That secondary education

I hear the skin of the Governor of Texas wrinkling 92

Micevice? 94

Do the cheese and peanut butter cravings

Justify mouse malevolence, bird wishes,

Cat cruelty when finally caught in the vice

Like grip of the sneaky mousetrap?

Can I ever really understand the mouse?

I really don’t want him in my house.

Now I could, in a new wave way, say something

About having lost my pet snake

He is the Rhino 92

The Condor, the Heron

The man without a mate

Dad didn’t want to explain how hopeless things 93

Seemed after all the terrible things he’d seen

That’s why he was silent.

But as long as men drink their lives away 91

They’re not a threat to my picnicpink day

I say that everything is a woman 92

Nothing is outside of femininity

Or the feminine domain, nothing.

MEN BALK

Trying for earthquakeinspired 94

Resurrection, trying to pull out

Of a deep pussy willow sleep

GOING BICOASTAL

WHEN THEY HAVE TO UNDRESS AGAIN

ANYWHERE NEAR THE MEMORY OF THE

MIDWEST (94)

Twisting definitions to tame the confabulation 94

WHEN

MIDWIFERY (94)

IS THOUGHT ABOUT

I’m a saddlestapled 92

Matte card

Cover girl

Fuzzy but fun

The Earth may stop turning for lack of 91

Revolution

Everything goes to the laundry today 92

Dirty laundry, lies, illgotten gains,

Dodgeball taxes, almost clean oratory

The truth gets lost in the wash

Is remembered like the other sock.

Statistics confuse for a ruse 93

So that even “normal” is abused

And when the perception you choose

Includes even happy blues, misconstrues

News about fire and bloodred hues for

Anything but eyegrabbing schmooze, and

Everyone is driving on booze, prepared for

Baby hell the whole year of those terrible

Twos, I tell you, I’m not amused.

With that kind of truth you’re bound to lose

Downstairs, in that tile kitchen 94

Young girls squealed with delight

As cockroaches they’d found in the tuna

Squished under their plasticgloved

Fingers and young guys jerkedoff

Into the scrambled eggs for fun

Because they couldn’t hear the words

Of the murmurous rich

Consider the cat 92

Run over

Softly squeezing out colors 93

The gentle beast strangles

For purpleblueyellowgreen

Face effects

Giddy, you open 94

Your yap.

Yup, giddy.

Heehee

The kind of things that so angered you 92

When done to Karen Silkwood by men

Have been done to men by men for a very

Very long time. Women, then, had the time

To do something about it. Or didn’t we?

Eggbutt baby vacated eggs? 91

Bed vacates building? 92

Tired, 93

Mad,

We have to prove love

Before

We make it

We fuck to find it

Become too tired

To continue searching

And then settle

When we both know he has power, 93

We no longer enjoy my groveling

Don’t give birth mother 91

Don’t try to change things father

Be coddled by propaganda while baby cries

Like a whole bunch of things that sound really good 94

It’s what follows that counts on a menu

The price tag that exposes the lie

Isn’t all of society an antirape movement? 93

OH NO!

NEBO (94)

Relish the death of those that annoy you? 92

Must hard actions be matched by hard thoughts?

Catsup, will ya?!!!

Marching petunias 94

Marching to war

Against Hyacinth

For the sake of Morning Glory

Crying for better water

And integration

SHOCK WARRIORS THINKING SHOCKING MEN WILL BE SILENCED

BY A GOOD SPELL OR A SPELLING BEE

STINGING THEIR EGO TO INFLATE IT EVEN MORE

TWISTING IN DECEITFUL WIND THEY WIND DOWN

SO THAT MEN LOOK AT ME LIKE I’M A DANGER

IN DRESSES, AND WOMEN, UNSURE ANYMORE, DO TOO.

You let your father become a petrified postcard? 91

Blame to Tame 94

It’s your fault

I’m not a revolutionary militant

So, there!

New Hampshire poets gloating about the good life

That where I’m going for

Solitude with a change of scenery

Snicker sneaker! 94

Boy was convicted for atrophy, a trophy 91

Making a fuss when I say ugly people should have 91

More rights

Making abstraction of all women 92

In the objecting to fictional objectification

The glistening page is just that, nor subjectivized

Apprehension of what others think.

Poets try that when they begin, before they control

Not only words, but themselves as well.

The poem is always loved for the wrong reasons

The highlit woman becomes more real than

Assonance

The memory of your last bitch 94

Red phone rings unanswered

Even apartheid and loneliness can show up 92

In the same sentence when mood is the moving force

Get into yourself not out to me 91

The scythe and the sickle 91

Have a dirty mythology

Fashion some lines 94

That show your tits

And make Elsa

Klentch

No porno, honeytongue, 94

Just fat women, left, for littler ones

You search for yourself 93

Without seeing your father,

Mortar and brick hands,

Squish, squish, stroke,

Tweek, nibble; he did

Have other rhythm

Practiced laying more than bricks,

With kisses and butterfly fingers

All over your mother’s breasts,

Squeek, squish, circle around.

Licking, sand sometimes,

Memories and houses

Were not all he built,

All he left,

His only healing art.

Tight voice 94

Luminous

Drippings of dew

Off leaves

Dawn

Drenched in muted

Cockadoodles

COMBINING RACISM AND DIVERSITY

Third Line Horizon 94

Third line

The picture line

Skywheel Sunlight spokes spinning

To turn an image

For halffigured philosophy

(I wish.) 92

A cute political awareness 93

Bouncing against my conventions

The same essential stillness 94

A brassiere cutting off circulation

In wishbone configurations 93

Stretched wings

Resilience

Doesn’t have

To be

Concession

“Get your fish here!… yes,

We have no hot dogs.”

Birdbrained lines 94

But still, but soft

Fly over my mountains;

I’ll be your baby

Untitled by Pussy Slashing 92

Flighty heart

And whole being

Buy a ticket on a jet plane

Fly an ache to Ecktar

A Nancy By Any Other Name

Oh, Emily, where are you now?

Shrubbery verity 94

“Ni!”

And humming bird farts

For a whiff of the arts

“Ni!”

Amherst is buried under snow

But the pantyhose still come out

To aim a dart

In broccoli directions.

Asparagus takes years

To root and settle

While Carol contrives herself

As a hummingbird feeder

“Ni!”

Between two of them

Grateful

Cheese

Licking up dew

Sentences.

Verbs have or do

Dart up

Dart up!

Down boy.

Climb a tree.

Hey, you with the scabbed nose, 91

I gotta Daddy too

And polyester daffodils

To Withstand 93

Sliding dew

Darkest stars touch

Mooneyed crescent hill

An endless girl

On couldnot nights

Of a gentle hand

MOST OF THE WORLD EXPLOITS WOMEN’S

WEAKNESSES. HERE, WE EXPLOIT

THAT WEAKNESS, TOO.

ANY SISTER WHO DENIES IT, LIES

Dim song 94

Schewan Goose

In sweet and sour

Tones of lonely

Oneplate dinners

Dim song 92

Ended at an arbitrary point

Called a period.

STRONG ENOUGH

TO CREASE THE HEART

OF UNREALITY WITH A SOCIAL WOUND

I STARTED THIS, BUT WHAT ABOUT MY SISTERS BEING RAPED?

WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER THINGS THAT MAKE THIS UNIMPORTANT?

WE TALK FAT AND

PINCHGUT (94)

TO DISTRACT US

You bust the hymen 94

Of your children’s minds

“Null brown … cellulose…

Reclaiming” yourself.

Softening the blow, tones, touch 92

Of yielding to impending sin

No,

Of yielding to an offending son

No,

Of yielding to my display of spinning pasties

No,

Of yielding to the waiter’s tray of pastries

The large curd of her anxiety 94

Bubbles the surface of the skin.

I reach for her nippled flares, 93

Burn my fingers on the yellowed skin

THROWING HAIR EXTENSIONS OUT

OF THE

PLASTIC TOWER (94)

INTERVIEWED ON OFRAY WHIMPERY,

TO WHOM I WILL REMAIN

A MAMA MUFF,

SPORT PLAYTHINGS

FOR A DOG OR TWO

DONE IN DOGGIESTYLE

VARIATIONS

America as a Plant Dethroned in Latin 94

Am I supposed to understand

America’s in trouble, any more clearly,

Aided by lines about crownless willows?

Now your “beauty” is controlled 91

By the hairdresser’s words of praise?

In all thy orisons be the virgin remembered 92

Stereos and steroids 92

We buy, buy, buy.

Ice and Crystal 92

Break

Trying to bond

“Rock me like 94

Hypocrisy! Oh, yeah.”

Bambi met the Xmen 94

On a Bohemian Rhapsody

With Garth in a bath

Of mail to Wayne’s World

When all of a Vanna

Was spread out with staples

To tempt Tony the Tiger

Into meaningless Cher care

Products for hair and skin

That’s democracy now 92

Don’t shoot them,

Silence them

Make other people

Deaf to their words

If you don’t like

Their poetry

Make paper and postage

Expensive

The sophisticated lie 91

Always was a modeled

Version of the truth

A sip of tension lessened 92

Left lifted, absence took us,

Our glasses left grazing her

Thundercloud toockus

Valhalla was conceived 91

When war was not a lie

Now men deceived

(And women too)

Talk peace before they die

Wants (94)

Patient poets

Who are voluntarily committed

Or in tents but accessible

(With a phone or mailbox)

So they can get in tush

They do not dare you to pick them, 92

They dare you to name them

Color and flowerbased 92

Poetry is not racism

But is something like it

Peppering Snowblower is the Wrong Title for This Poem 93

Cheap fashion coat

To last only one Winter

Of no particular season

(ing)

Peoplewatching 94

Is more than

Fan

Fare

Fan

Tasy

Talking to Plants 91

I love you still

Shriveling, losing rigidity

Or turgid tonnage, filled with life fluid.

I wet you down and purr to you

And say how pretty you are

But I never seem to treat you

Nicely enough

To get you to buy that new, yellow car

I’ll bet someone there 92

Was staring at your tits and ass

Cocaine stapled 93

There’s snot

Much in

The baby face

She’s a highclassed hooker 92

She gets a paycheck

Selfinflicted, perfect lips 91

Hard tunnel for my choo chew

Tooth impressions, scrape marks

Balloon lips bought

Deflated

No smut here 92

Sluts think of death angels

Mourners fear a slip of the tongue

Rock and Roll with save 94

Capitalism?

No, baby, just repeat

And repeat and repeat

With a good downbeat

What’s a dead man a metaphor for?

No one likes to be lonely 92

Memory 94

Casting a draft

Raisins swallow me

Dipping wet crackers in the Brie

I’m a jacket that’s worn wrinkled

The Lawrence Welk of halfberries

Your ears bend to listen to Lee

Clinging to fistsful of rocky road ice cream

Widow’s walk tongue slides

Walk tongue!

Don’t get caught in the plosives

Eve of Guilt 93

Eve of Guilt

Spell, mailed into candlelight

Apples mulled over the

Guilt of Eve

Boil That Baby In Water 93

The sun’s a disinfectant

For your crass crybaby wounds

Fly jokes inside

Cracked fortune

Moon

The Moon isn’t out tonight

But if it were it wouldn’t be

A festering boil or a simple boil on the bottom

Before it bursts because

The moon has sharp edges

Even in the haze; A boil is soft

And squishy when not aroused

Never Say Never 94

“Nothing is right”

This Spring, but you don’t write (or do you?) that

“Nothing is left”

Almost Obscenity 91

Scythes lopping

Dancing Jersey

Udders

Milking girls

Resurrection of tuberous fibrils 94

No Freud in the closet

Not the one without clothing, dark

Enough to imagine our existence,

But here, alive again

After Line 2, I Give Up 92

Rhythmmaking soulshaking

Phrases forming words conforming

And then there’s this dragon

Stuck in my tea cup

(Which, by the way, is porcelain

So you know I’m not merely some bohemian)

How Can She Come? 92

Unsheathing and masturbation

Don’t eat meat 93

Don’t eat anything

Eating kills you

If I wanted to cater 92

To the highest common

Denominator of humanity

What would that be?

Hey, hand me a twenty, 93

I’ll give you a wink.

For thirty, I’ll wink

At you …. in Spanish.

Right Rite Wrong Wrong 91

Left loved or loved left?

Wronged love or loved wrong?

Left right or left wrong?

Slippery 91

Fullflavored fish on the tongue

We don’t all reach adulthood

United some of us never do

Some of us stay separate.

Hard to Make You Count 91

A list of lists

Or a list of live things

Is as hard to count

As a list of dead mementos

So I add a dropped angel wing,

Ripped from her left side

For your violent poetry

Your “Mommy! Mommy!

It’s a mummy!” lines

Your obituary imagery

Your seashore sloth

Preferring poetry penned for lazy tongues

Like aural sex without foreplay for play

Depending, so much, upon who does the reading

And for whom

Weep not for Argentina 91

Poetry is not an illegitimate child 92

We Two 92

We, too, went through

The blazing maze

Of our mayonnaise craze.

Butter became passé

Margarine words spread quicker

But left infinite indigestion.

Now,

We are fatfree polyunsaturated

That smell was deodorant 91

Pheromone

And the genius of the balls

In a fog of radioactive VGA vapor 93

Astride the information highway

She shrinks from the sun

Never sees their son

Weighs three quarters of a ton,

But she’s in there, on the bus,

Ms. missing, Ms. minimillionaire, Ms.

Autoexec

15 inch knife 94

Or standard 6 inch blade?

Always propaganda?

No truth, no news to use,?

Always the halfback theory?

Always the O.J. monopoly (FLA, CALTEX)?

Always some football legend

Caught up in the black myth?

RACKHAM (94)

ENDS LIKE HAM

ON THE TORTURE RACK

I GET MY INSIDES SMOKED

Puerto Rico is a puppy? 94

I didn’t say that

RADCLIFFE (94)

OVER A RAD OCEAN OF STARVING PEOPLE

A collector’s journal? 92

Fat collector’s propaganda?

Do they have diet bubblegum cards?

Liposuction leftovers in sealed jars?

“THEIR PROBLEMS” IN THERAPY, NOW

RECOVERING BLACKBERRY (94)

STAINS

We tear at the scabs 92

Weave word butterfly

Bandages

To seal the wounds

Frigid dark 91

Frigid dark

RED ADLER PANEROTIC (92)

WASHOUTMYBRAINWITHSOAP SOMA

COLORS AND FLOWERS AND DEATH

AND GOSSAMER

VEILED SEX

EROTICA, BUT NO PORNOGRAPHY

REVERSE DISCRIMINATION

REVERSE HYPOPARISTALSIS

REGULAR OLD LIFE

HEIGHTENED TO THE HEAVENS

OF UNREALITY

BOREDOM AND GRIEF

CHEWED LIKE DELICACIES

They dump their waste on us 91

Saying, “you want the good life?”

Hide maps of contaminated areas

Like they hide their combination safes

Inland revenue (for the children)

Pay tax

To play clean

They dump their waste on us

Saying, “The reason it smells funny, like that,

Is because it’s art”

Dr. Spock’s Little Monsters 91

Some, twisted, turn

On the memorized road

Of “for a nickle I will

Blow up the toll gate.”

Confetti silk 92

Incipient stone

Catfight clammor

We’re both in love

With the same woman,

Inside us

REFLECT (94)

EUPHONIES IN ACOUSTICAL MIRRORS

REFLECT, YOU PHONEYS

REFLECT ON THIS

Images in the flashing light 91

To avoid what things mean to me.

Is it enough? Is it enough

To let the heart know it means… something?

Isn’t that something like a moon without a sun?

Like an asteroid in a black hole?

Love is a poet unidentified 92

In the right setting

Odds 7:5 (demographically)

I’m beginning to feel like a YouthVampire 94

Blow your breath cold

Rebreathing

Life into me

“Myyyy Grandma was 94

Stupider than

Youuuuur Grandma!”

Zen 91

Suicide?

Sometimes I stand on my bed 92

And try to piss into the lake

Does that make sleepy sense

To you, watching me,

My belly protruding,

Hips tilted like a man

Before making love 92

Lying minds

Does grammar matter? 91

Does Grandma?

Does new poetry disconnect us,

Looking for obscure connectives?

Dream shredder 94

Talking Tolstoy to justify

Common Bovary’s

Stretching Zola stockingstalkings

Tarnished with newness 92

Mass graves to hide swollen 92

Reasons

Sand turned to help blood seep

Away

We go on with a certain

Justice

But justice

Just

Ice

In this desert

BECAUSE THERE’S NO

ROOM (91)

ROOM OF ONE’S OWN (94)

ONLY

ROPE BURNS (94)

OF CONFINEMENT

Automotive Mother Goose 94

Fairy tales for women

And a few sensitive men

(The rest of the sensitive men

Can run home to mama

Like the crybabies they are)

I’m almost used to not knowing where I’m going 92

Since they bought that trailer and sawed off my tail

I get the eerie feeling they’re going to make a show

Of me. (At least give me a luxury ride to the glue

factory)

These bubbles glistening down 94

My bosom are my toys, my treasure,

My perimeter. These baubles glittering

On my bosom are …..

Men want them

Removed before they see me

Lick my coins? 92

Turtle crossed the road 93

And I know why

Seasons of Contempt 92

These new laws like

“The Freedom of Access

To Bathroom Entrances Act”

These new laws are deadly

Are killing my business

Retort!

Tort

Retort, but all there is

Is retarded reaction,

Reticence to move the legal

Mountain for this molecular

Tart who screams out into

Blank lust, “I would fuck

The whole world for freedom!”

This tart tastes the tramp

Trickle on my tongue

I can’t blow the jobs back

In this foul, flatulent wind

Of world order wishfulness

I bow my head, beaten

At this point, 92

History has a right to say

Of me and my sisters

That everything bad

Said about us was true

That we have been stupid

And whining, trite with

Hackedknees

The Skidmore girls 92

Sneak dates with

Poor poets who have

Earthy, real rhythm

But publish Seamus

In wedding invitations

`Cus he’s …. okay

Prego, prego 94

Too much salt in the waffles

And I thought the best

Ingredient, the bignamechef

Ingredient, was supposed to be love

Orchard Memories 91

Trees growing back

But what does not?

What is this sense of loss

I feel?

What have I forgotten, here?

We were never not lost 92

On this backslide of a booming

Generation,

We were never not lost

Can’t get ahead 91

Can’t get head

Can’t get my head

On crooked enough

To make some real money

Like they say, 92

Bullshit walks,

But they don’t mean

The kind that just sits there,

Steaming

Mountain woman, will you stay there 94

Stuck

Where you belong

If I write a poem or sing you a song?

Sissypus 91

Depending upon your friends

To “hold me back!”

Hey, Cristy, I’ll put my tongue around you 94

You don’t mind fresh fish, do you?

I’ll call you flounderface

And you can keep the name as your own

The memory 92

A million mouths

Salivating over me

And now I call myself woman,

Know how few men there are

Legacy of poetry 94

Written now

To describe yesterday’s

Promise for the future

Lookingatapainting 92

Thatyoucan’tsee

ButIdon’tgiveafuck

BecauseIcanpoetry

To dam or not to dam 93

That is the fishy question

OLD POETS KNOW ENOUGH TO PRETEND TO PAY ATTENTION TO HER

OPINIONS UNTIL THE SAND FLEA SAYS

SCAT! (94)

Loaded pistol 93

That’s all

It just sits there

Such landscape 91

Such sun

Such an open door

But, where’s the

“Girl in the white wetsuit?”

Cramped smile 92

Is like a

Cramped simile

Cirrhosis P.C. 91

Sexist, PapaBasher!

Mama sucked `em down

As good as any Daddy did

Is it sexist to say most rapists are guys? 92

Would it be sexist if I were a celebrity?

Corporate power 91

Is the perfect tyranny

With no succession

To kinder kin

And no queen, there,

To let love sink in

IF YOU ARE AN OBNOXIOUS,ANTISOCIAL,

UNCOMPROMISINGLY SELFISH,

IMPOSSIBLETOLIVEWITHBITCH

WHO GETS PREGNANT,

YOU AUTOMATICALLY MAKE

THE 8DOLLARSANHOUR THAT PAYS

FOR THE BABYSITTER

SO YOU CAN DANCE TABLE DANCES ON

AND UNDER THE TABLE, AND EVEN

HAVE A GREAT EXCUSE, ANYTIME,

NOT TO SHOW UP, TAXFREE, TO WORK

BUT MOST STUPID OF ALL,

WE DON’T HAVE OR NEED JOBS

TO SUPPORT OUR CHILDREN.

THEY’RE FLOATING IN THE INTERNATIONAL

WATERS OF THE WORLD BANK

AND THE MONETARY FUND, RAISED BY EXPERTS,

THE SAME BREED WHO SAY WE NEED,

BUT WON’T FIND, ANOTHER SHAKESPEARE.

I am sure 94

You are sure

CONKING HIM THROUGH HIS

SHATTERED WIG (94)

The black dog of my guilt 92

Eats your white cat

Nah, just kidding

If I do not wear a pink triangle 94

Does that mean I am not queer?

Am not hated?

Am not lied to?

Am not sent for and then sent away?

Am not asked to contribute my life?

If you had any idea of it, 94

You would not invoke

…….. Poetry, so lightly

SIDESHOW IN CRUEL GARTERS (93)

Your poetry is soggy 93

With the sotweed factor

Milking poetry’s shriveled breasts 91

The poem does not know

It’s sucking on a wetnurse

While its mother is full,

Ripe, exploding,

But too busy

Wildlife Loving 94

Scamper Camper

I fire the woods

To make sure

The animals

Are not dead

Ram stall 93

Butt out

The spirit of her tits 94

Took

A rest

You gave your life to 91

The dream you dreamt of me

I did too

So sorry

No, it’s not true; 94

Women of color do not have longer tongues

Father’s Lesson 94

All love is precious

SISYPHUS (93)

SISSY PUS

Bitter about the bitterness? 94

But you don’t feed your man on the right diet

Of love and exercise and tenderness

Ah, well, who needs sugar? You can always buy it.

BUT WATCH OUT FOR

SKAZ (93)

SCAGS AND GERMS

SKOOB (94)

SCUBA DIVING FOR MUFFS

WITH

SKYLARK (94)

TONGUES

Damn Yankees! 93

They Steal the Oil From the Land 93

So I drive to the post office

Twenty times a week,

Mailing out letters of protest

In the fever of Summer 91

I found a pool of water

Jumped in with my friends

Shouted delight

Then Carl Rowan came out and shot me

I was told I could get 92

My old teacher’s job

If I reported him

For child abuse

To That Lazy Librarian 94

If you’d been doing your job

She wouldn’t need picturebooks

About pregnancy

She would have read from lines like mine

About what a GRAND time

It is to be on your knees, pumping out sperm,

On your back, ingesting injustice

And how we’re made to pay and pay and pay

For the pleasure

At my poetry readings 91

I do a table dance to pronounce

The beauty of the line

Of my legs and hips

To accentuate the body of my work,

Because men (and most women) will listen to nipples

Stuck out in the middle of a teeshirt line

Grandma wore a live fox as a scarf 92

And little lines of poetiferousness, too 91

Living in Reality and Dreams 92

Broken

Fantasy

Breaker,

Broke

Forever frozen in midsentence 94

Kickboxing karate angels

I will tell you that I really …..

Withered 94

Before mankind was so terrible

So hopeless and hollow

You heard the tones of “in whose image”

I don’t even see 92

Yesterday

Though these tears

SONOMA MANDALA (94)

MANDELA MANIA (GREAT OR NOT)

Necklaces 94

There are people who are combustible

We know this because our solid waste policy

Allows the burning of tires

Sucking bronze statues, 92

I lose the flesh features

Of the man that he is,

Deny him his humanity

By denying the truth

Of beauty

Objectifying metal

Like men aren’t able to

They’re the romantic ones.

I don’t care about flowers,

Just like to watch them pose

And crawl

No one was ever nice to me 93

Not the way I wanted them to be

Inbreeding keeps kids from having mad eyes? 93

Seeds sown in our slippers 93

We throw out old laundry

Check the pockets of our jeans

For loose grandmothers

Hava Nagila? 91

Go ahead,

Have one on me

A good mount 92

Does not hang, after being hunted down,

Dead, against the wall,

Sometimes, isn’t even horny

Teeshirt Poetry 92

“Up mine!”

Oh me, oh my 94

Oh, why isn’t life

As dreary and dull

And awful as it is in books

Of poetry?

You have to admit 93

Everyone is crazy,

Completely insane,

Hopelessly lost in the ozone,

So, let’s fuck, huh?

Picture this one; 94

I envied the bitch in heat:

To be a bitch so openly

And, yet, be surrounded

I’ll describe a scene 93

To trigger visions

So that you’ll listen,

Like the puppy licking my chocolate breasts,

To the last line, which I will

Throw in as a statement.

Live free or die.

Perfection 92

Alberto the Cuban rebel/guitarist

Taught me how to split a log for the fire

(9 millimeter bullets are expensive and fun but

also efficient)

She raised her son 94

To be pussywhipped

Heavy

Cream curdling in its container

Animal Secrets 91

Swallow, Tern, Robin,

Bitch, Ass, Maggot

Now sheets( ironed) are “blank” 92

Not crisp

And old ladies that bore

Generations/ (Bore readers,) get

Only “an hour’s rest”?

(I picture them, lost at their typewriters

Spitting on their grandmother’s legacies

And my grandmother’s too.

You spit on your grandmother’s

Legacy!

That’s why you’re lost;

You don’t know the synthesis of rebellion

The smushing together of pursed lips

The iron is still too cool

To make a good sizzle

Schizophrenic Poets and Religious Lovers 92

Hating progress

Loving the fruits of it

Sucking the juice out of their wordprocessors

Man, 92

This ain’t right, man.

I don’t want no fuckin’

Hang gliders

Scaring my fuckin’ birds

Treasures? 92

Don’t natural wonders display their own price tags?

I need an image, a new image 93

I need imagery, NOW,

Or I’ll go all prosey

Uh, uh

Petunia in a pancake

Uh, uh

Six galloping julien fries

Uh, uh

The moon, sandwiched between lettuce and bacon

Uh, uh

Ice cream dripping onto my sweating cleavage,

Strawberry bosom, scooped by tender tendrils of butterfly

Shrimp

Oh! ….

Uh, nevermind.

Maybe all I needed was lunch

Moron of many big words 91

He looks like a zootsuiter 92

Spinning keys on a chain,

That precocious little baby of mine,

Playing jump rope with our umbilical cord

The game warden 93

And poacher

Entertain each other

Chalk crumbles to bits 92

In the excited teacher’s hands

We, the experienced, know the value of chalk

You 94

Really mean nothing to me

I’d rather have a revolver

Than your facedown, flat poetry

The poverty paradox 91

Third world soup song

Everyone should eat soybeans

I don’t need steak

Anyway, I’m on a starvation diet

THEY HAVE US COMPETING

IN DEAD FIELDS

LIKE POETRY

(THOUGH TEACHING AND LECTURING MAKE MONEY)

THEY HAVE US COMPETING

COMPETING AGAINST THE BODY

THAT USED TO BE “OURSELVES”

THEY HAVE US COMPETING

NOT THE GOOD KIND, EITHER,

FOR TOO FEW PRIZES

FOR ALL SISTERS TO SHARE IN

JUST ENOUGH TO KEEP US,

SISTERS AND BROTHERS

FROM COMPETING AGAINST THEM

AND WHO IS “THEM”

IF ANY ONE OF “US” KNEW THAT

WE WOULD BE OUTCAST FROM “OURSELVES”

AND WHAT IF ALL THIS IS PARANOIA?

IF THERE IS NO “THEY”, NO CONTROLLING

ENTITY THAT WE ARE NOT,

THAT WOULD BE THE BEGINNING OF PARANOIA

It is easier to pen silver lines 92

When you’re born with a spoon in your mouth

She’s a poor girl, but rich inspiration 92

For my, sometimes, slumming poetry

Radical Lonna 94

19yearold poet

Who says she is lonely

Protests nothing

“Kill My Landlord” 94

`Cus Cambi says we got mushroom clowns

Growing up our asses (or was it blowing up our asses?)

And tyrant whales about to overthrow us

And just enough air to breathe

To pay off this month’s thrills

Empathy 91

Burnout and not a peep from the

Pope

I grew a dang pickeralstyle pickle this big! 91

Nothing happened 92

Didn’t cut my finger

There’s no way around it,

Three bottles

left

Tragicly pretty 91

Cyan starburst

Burning out before

It reaches 7 billion

GET OFF IT!!

Seeing Self in Everything 94

Image of

A personified

Concept

Twisted

By saying the idiom

Is not axiomatic

To the fishing pole

We’re talking mob rule 91

Doubleentendre intended

Better organized crime

Than the other kind;

Then, at least, you know

What kind of asshole

You have to be.

When we begin to believe

We’re talking survival

It’s easier to get us

To agree, “Fuck Freedom!”

The Mountains See It Before We Do 92

But we keep the day

And feed it celery.

Donna, making crooked tracks, 94

Trudging through the deep snow

And wilderness of her mind’s exile

And the twisted path it takes,

Steal heat from the heart.

Then she wakes, startled,

Dumping halfgallons of icecream

In buckets, to the freezer floor

Of the grocery store

Semantic confusion.

Having left it to cool off

In the walkin refrigerator,

It was not an exile but an exaisle

When The Work Is Done 92

Spotlessly clean kitchen

Shining, prim,

Is eerie at midnight,

Smells of death

TESSERA BILINGUAL WOMEN FROM ONTARIO IN TRANSLATION (94)

These Tears 94

I won’t be happy

Until the whole world,

Maggot to magistrate,

Plant, vegetable, fish, animal,

All hear me crying these tears

We publish bad poets from 92

All around the world

Oblivious 91

Complacent, comfortable

In a cage,

Squeezing in on you

Thorny Subjects 94

Guns, trapping, bullets

Potatoes, potato velocity, etc.

Teaching me to “lick the underside” 91

You bring down the hatchet 92

To chop the timeline,

Cut me off from the past

Creating the monsters of a bad trip, 94

Goofing, they used to call it,

Scaring up images of animals

To inject into our dreams

Scarey scarey animal kingdom

Scary dark Africa

You make me wonder

If you aren’t a hunter

Or a land developer

Or a concrete contractor

Or a politician

My old father 92

Is my conscience

My new father

Is my ego

But I’m still

Looking for my

Birth father,

My id

We’ve given up writing poetry 94

It’s all these bills and debts everywhere

All the romance of knights and princesses

Is squashed under a rotting roof, falling

From termites and tradition

Lucky Visions of a Lady 91

First edition

Parole replacement

TIGHT (94)

EPESIOTOMY MIRROR OF

Joy 94

Is a timerelease capsule

And grief is a bad cold

No! Wait!

Grief is a timerelease capsule

And joy is a bad cold

TIMBERLINES (94)

CARVED IN TREES

Sweet tree lines 94

(Awash) In fall colors

So to hear the sound of “timber”

All those rich women 92

Carrying around celestial bodies

(The sun, the moon, the stars)

In their purses

While, we, less fortunate ones

Must cherish them

With pursed lips

Not Finding the Proper Form at the Back, 91

She Exploded Into Her Favorite Escape

Her fit didn’t fit the format,

So she stormed out and found shoes

That would fit

Shall I put a moral 92

Into a verse with rhyme?

Or should I, rather, get a job

And make some profit from my time?

I wish I talked 93

Ching, thump, whir

Clank, phizzzzz.

Then I could talk

To my car

Shall I Compare Myself With Me? 94

Better not. Competition’s bad

And mnemonic schizophrenia’s

Still a possibility

Nah, 94

He ripped open the “I”

That never again was shut

And turned his lover,

Poetry,

Into an aging slut

Tramp tree 92

Out of mythology

Pulls up its roots

And leaves

Homeric Heroineaddict 94

Stuffs Moliere’s methodone

Into Alice Walker’s arm

(Even though it’s only legal orally)

Graycoloured, 92

British

Beauty fades

(While some of us, here,

Keep replacing parts

Until the car rusts away

From inside)

“She” should have been 93

A good girl

And buttered your potatoes

Too

Plant Trees, Not Three Plants 91

Go lots, go!

Go lots(in kulots)

Go lots go!

Golots and Helots and Shelots and Welots

And bigots and whatnots in factory car lots;

Now, that’s what I call a lot of diversity.

Tompoet 91

Sentient A nice word

Most of the time, my lover is a “guy”

And still is sentient

Maybe I’m the one who sounds male,

In comparison, but

I had a poet big brother

I used to play poetry

With the boys in the schoolyard

Europeanization 92

For a colonial nation

Tainted by proposals, I 94

Don’t dare approach beauty

With psychology.

Overly impressed

By a good body

I can’t find a model

For my poetry.

Nighvisiton

….. He said

Past crying, men and boys, left naked before

Heaven, scream before she has taken all eyes.

Hell ghosts in floats left a window

Times a thousand. Veiled dreaming of the thousand

Naked midnights, more lady to princess,

She’s my my and and through.

Can’t 94

“Revoke”

Life fuckups

On the laws

That created them

Anyway, Eating is Passé 94

If we didn’t butcher cows

For the store

Who would keep them

From going extinct?

But 91

I love 92

Butt 93

The big problem with diapers 92

Is not that they pile up

Lovetraitor 91

Racetraitor

Speciestraitor

I can’t tell the haters

From the lovers

But, then again, vegetarians scribbled on paper 93

That was made from cutdown trees

Sat at chairs and desks made of tropical wood

Drove smokey cars all those extra miles to the

Whole Foods Market

And made a mess in their own biodegradable

cleartunneled ways.

Pulling violence out 94

With limbic insertions

Implanting the peace

Of a mere machine

That only requires gas and oil

I really want you back 91

But before you come

You have to promise

Not to go through

My trash anymore

Because, now,

I’ve shaped up

And am prettier

Transmuted 93

Here, shining, she,

A glinting and slippery mermaid,

Creature of and on the green end,

Waves and leaves again

But

There, the stone trees are solid

And the man, reduced, subdued,

Not wooden, sits through the wood pew

To “they”, transmuted.

A year before he died,

My grandfather didn’t say anything

To me and I didn’t call him.

I was far off and working on a

Callgirl’s career

Sexual Harassment At Home 91

Dinner is burning

Shoelace undone

Catapult the garbage

Black, flying fish

Hidden in aerial shadows

From vicious cats

That wish us dead

Because the dogs get the scraps

And the cats

Don’t frighten the bad guys

Who hoot and howl

From hungry shadows

And only subside

To commit more murders

And all this mess

Because you wouldn’t listen

When I said, “No.”

Mortified But Not Fried 92

…. And “she” will be

Ever mortalized

In the dying lines

Of my “she” poetry

No Gore Allowed 92

Virgin in a vest?

Virgin vessel?

Romance?

Sword dance?

Vestal virgin

Eggs, over easy

With catsup

VICTIMOLOGY (92)

OF THE

VIETNAM GENERATION (94)

Dad explained 93

How hard it is

To understand.

Crawling back into 91

Mother Earth’s

Ocean,

Face smushed

TASTING

VIRGIN MEAT (94)

DESTROYED

VIRGINIA Q (94)

VIRTUE (94)

How To Mop Mud With Grace 94

Let Grace

Scoop

While you

Swirl

So, I’ll just sit in my skinny office, 91

Remembering Moses and Donald and all

Insert my stubby fingers into children’s brains

And sniff the juices while I watch their pain

Then I’ll take the whole thing

Back to Moses again.

How can I sit shiva 93

On yon kipper

Without getting Shiva’s

Bottom oily?

WOMEN IN THE MOON (94)

WOMEN IN THE MOOD

“No sexual abuse themes this year” 94

just lessons on how to lie

and like it and to be proud

of your deceit and devices

while i am still sexually abused

Fastfood buffet reminds me 94

Of the day I was born and wasn’t

Scooped like a Csection

Into shallow plates

At a good foodcost percentage,

Delivered,

All prepped,

By the truckload

R,_W,_&_B 91

My words

Are blue

Varicose veins

Of patriotic

Coloration

Caucasian

With high high

Blood pressure

Then I had to put my face 92

Into the couch

Dropping children like 92

Simile

Like smiles

Foxy 94

Caught in a trap

She forgot

All about the chickens

What a revelation! 94

That lumberjacking

Is a real profession

In the sense that it

Is money for something

That is really needed,

The cleaning , pruning,

Nurturing of the land

Yeah, “A world 94

Only we can build”

Listening to the pitterpatter 92

Of tiny

Eggs going to ground

Unwilled Passions? 91

Hormones in harnesses

Limbic lollypops

I am an ant 94

Crawling over the rotten stump

Of history

Looking for flesh to sting

And for food

No Need for Love Until the Visions Start 91

Until the Hunger

Open wide

To eat this warm apple

Then you’ll know love

As a woman, I prefer men 94

Does that make me sexist?

Many black men have treated

Women like me like chattel

Smooth outside, seeing white

Skin under the sheets,

Slapping me with their genitals

Does that make me racist?

I’m scared that the women I lick

Will try to frighten off my men

Does that make me homophobic?

I love the moist skin of youth

Does that make me ageist?

I’d rather be upper middle class

Does that make me classist?

I sometimes am defined

By the smell of sex

Does that ban me as erotic

I love a good limerick

Sometimes I

Write certain line lengths

In controlled form

What is all that compared

To your prejudice

Which keeps you from reading me?

The only things

That are even a little different

Are the poetry pieces

Under these seasons of change

Written

In this old house

And the barn

That needs rebuilding

And the windows

That crack in the Winter

No Doggerel 94

No Dog Growls

Leo, the mutt, plays

Elbows on the grass

Butt up, nipping At Woolybooger

The Big black chowdog

Who reigns now

“Come on! Play!”

But there’s too much

To do as top dog

That’s what Leo envies

A sense of purpose

We dive out of democracy 94

Into a pool of dictatorship

By the majority

Who say collectively,

Unconscious, “Hold

Your neighbor’s Hand

And float because

It’s a sin to swim”

Frying Fish 94

Flying fish

(flipped)

Which “element”

Is theirs?

THE

WISE WOMAN (94)

WASHES

Why wisdom for women? 92

Why is wisdom not world wisdom,

Universal wisdom?

Why menstrual wisdom?

Why answer?

Oh, clap your pustual trap ya whining twit 94

Trying to teach your sisters

Lessons you still need to learn

“We’re the same”

“We’re different”

“We’re the same”

“We’re different”

“Tastes great”

“Looks good”

Even the toilet’s scrubbed and foreign.

Someone made the water blue

Domino effect with falling towels

In Lightning colors of hauberked nakedness

Like stiff cotten

And there were flying mistresses of furballs

Against the wall by the spiget

Rainier Marie 92

Still wrong, MarieCarol Becker

The songs, the sonnets, the elegies,

The prose don’t translate, it’s true,

But, more still, the mood can’t be left to you,

Sitting in the Swiss Alps, breathing old air,

Breaking in hiking boots, deaf to cowbells.

Do you have Rodin, chipping away every day,

At the granite of your head, removing every part

That is not art; In circular motions with his hands

Smoothing your bust, the bust of inspiration?

Do you have a wealthy mistress, who takes you in

Like the stormcat? Do you sit with The Panther,

Shaking your head, stuffing another line in the dresser?

Well, even if you do, I can’t leave the mood to you,

Outside of The Castle’s grandeur,

In the fair weather of the now,

Because it was storming cats and dogs of unrememberance

Then Yes, back then, it was rainier, Marie.

Rhomboid 92

“Just like the one who ran

What do you do when you’re” RHOMBOID

“`Cus you know you’re” no man?

Why Women Piss Me Off (More than Men) 92

We were supposed to be better

Make it better

Compete to change

Beyond the surface

But we didn’t

We were not better

Could not be, by those rules

Everyone knows

Men have always been better

Always been better

At being total assholes

This is you, you weak little bimbette octopussy, 94

This poem you didn’t write

“Touch me and I’ll be bad

I’ll be bad and touch me

But don’t send me any

Fuckin’ haiku!”

Scrubbing the dirty bottom 92

Of the twoheaded baby

You bore and called Poetry

Already stinging it sightless with soap

Putting screams in its burbling mouths

Considering murder vicariously

You say they say “Stop, you’re killing me!”

My father lit my hair on fire! 93

Fuck him

Fuck him! He even had the nerve

To try to tell me it was an accident!

Hah!

In and out 92

Of an

Iron curtain mood

Prop

Propaganda

Translations

Of bad translations

Where the setting

And the character names are all

That are left to play

Winter heart contracts 91

Unborn

Ungathered

Unpotato

Unto

Una

Unroaming

Unfarm

Undog

Unleave me together

Unstars

Undigestion

WORDS OF WISDOM (94)

FALLOUT

Mallard makes green you bow? 94

What would a loon make brown you do?

Tribal Words 91

Dancing together

On the outskirts

Of costumed frills

Hemming and hawing

About the proximity

Of petticoats

Bigotry 94

Got big

Try

I go

Bigotry

Bigotry 94

Don’t talk

About

Big

Unless you

Know

What

Is.

Don’t talk to me about racism or the racist experience

You can’t possibly know what it’s like to be a racist,

Not having lived as a racist

Don’t talk to me about sexism, etc.

Don’t talk to me about homophobia

Species: Pig of ClosedMindedness

noooo, you can talk about that.

You do know about that.

OBEY! 94

Nibbles that tremble

OBEY!

Friends and loved ones

OBEY!

Toast me

Tea me

Cup me in your calloused heartstrings

In C# Minor

Green World! 94

Floral revolution

Under the floral leadership

Of ruling vegetables

Stamen (sta y men?) and pistol stuff

Guntotingpoets

Who don’t leave their wives

Make humans stupid and weak enough 93

And they’ll not fight for love,

Nor land, nor freedom, nor food,

Nor comfort, nor ideals, nor self,

Nor soul

Caught in the tryst 91

Between .32 caliber

And 10 millimeters

erotica pornography metaphors 94

It’s a big world of art, now 93

Commemorate your ass off!