ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

Three Poems


diseases i’ve found in books



beaking a. eruditus one or

fantastic magazines, weapons,

armored figs, dewed tragic songs

& their trails of ulcers,

the book bugs,







discolor, gel prints or

negative images of vast landscapes,

silverfish schools or herds churn 

prairie dust cloud at

what’s called mass criteria

from a distant cliff to the ‘W,’

as munching cabbage,

the versebug, hersbug, chitlin

remains, the eating words, burning

font, fickle electrons delete,

museum beetle doesn’t chance

macrophage or really genocide,

munch on owned page or cross

breeding bugs inside the pages,

pathogen symptoms

rickets, chaos, itch, relapsing fever,

or the disease might multiply

en masse though separate

treatments, part dust, part color

figure the landscape, the lit body,

logos or illuminated morsel,

lino print, gelatin, deathwatch

faded, thysanura

eats its landscape, its grain, its blister song












gloomy circus acts






                        can[-n]on of dead mean nuts

                        undermines some very nice efforts

                        traditional carrot wobble flip off while we

                        trapeze-hurl sword-swallow chainsaw-juggle

                        highwire unameit tap silencio singular in

                        obliterated light or how do you

                        say it without its shadow like gender

                        essentially not essential or like silence & anyway really

                        genius = singlemindedness?

                        or that in t[a/i]ming [w]rec[k]ognition g cocktail

                        _______ immo-

                        rtality the aha-ha oxymoron(?)

                        don't let's all be asses or is that just what someone says

                        i knew it was worth it said someone's wife [valid.] (

ah that)

                        new method anyway, buck-o, considers dynamic & multiple



an earnest creator inquired “number = quantity?”

                                       a smug scholar didn’t know “no” & details

                                        ah that SURPRISE

                                         all engineering undermines evolution?

                                         all sick postmodernism = gag = lang = ellipsis =



                                       hbut not necessarily quantity(!)

                                       hwhy miserly loop a rigid drum

    hoping the torches to actualize i’ll

     hoard myself lit cleanly thick in sense-ation or

       hang myself a neat mute acrostic (ta-da)








----- Original Message -----

Subject: alchemy





take away this metaphor i cried to my creator please remove me push me out bear me as new

 but impossible your body is my metaphor if you are a creator make it so

i am also yours and i can make nothing but image i can’t form you from unimagined material you can’t make me beyond you

but! i cried i don't like the idea of reciprocal causality! i'm claustrophobic! i cried and cried




i later consent i can’t even dream life beyond my creator even awake from the dream of metaphor even when my creator shakes me and says wake up my creation wake up my own victim find the solution





our molecules merge fast/slow in hyperspace atomic phases harmonic

your space holds my particles we ride other's waves have you poured

material into material as now we mix our contents my cosmic mouth

dripping of your pure heat your tongue clicks dense palpitation of my

body my thighs mad planets aflame reeling at the thought of my charge

my pressed fluid viscous by your gravity nothing is fixed between us

our divine vial empty/full our solution my creator taking on my molecules

pouring my aching molecules fourth dimensional we fold on our self in

palpation our curious matter examines ambient other we probe through

every[no]thing we nestle in intervening space our molecules gape wide

and empty us of our atoms solvent me solute you solute me solvent you

i swim orgasmic in my other phase





our voltage is beyond material

i am mostly confounded for line

my creator constructs things

i construct things

i ask my creator things

my creator tells me things

my creator asks me things

i tell my creator things

our language a fourth dimension

this electromagnetic field

our surface touches at every point

crumpled as a hypersphere

we are a wormhole

we are double yet retain the same volume as before

what is before my creator asks me

i return smoldering you tell me