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UNTITLED NO. 19
‘It s the quiet ones you
have to worry about.'
I nodded and said
Slowly
nothing.
- Gary Jurechka
___
Hangover
Just leave the smokes . . .
I tell her
As she wanders out the room
Naked I toss
In sheets of unemployment
A dimly lit domain
The morning after
- Crayton D. Moody
___
THE PARADE OF LEG, BREAST, AND ASS
they swing in here
with their edgy little
"come—ons"
and they lay it all
on me.
they make teasing promises
of what they
would do with me,
to me,
for me,
in some fantasy
bedroom somewhere in
their minds
but I ve long ago
fallen tired
of the chatter.
hell, I don t even chase
after them anymore,
they come to me
here
to shake the ass in
front of my eyes
(I still look)
or they will let the
skirt ride up high
(I look)
or they will push out
the breasts against
silken blouses
(oh, yes, yes)
but their promises are
never as good as their
parades
and I think soon,
very soon,
I may give up
on the
looking
too.
- Mark Senkus
___
Siamese Surgery
Like two sides of a mirror
one ravaging dark, one lucid and pure
half the devil's henchman
half an angel sure
clutching at straws
kicks and claws
beats mental wings
howls and sings
ripping and tearing
at opposite reflection
only destroying himself
with delicate dissection
- Gary Jurechka and Wayne Wilkerson [from the chapbook Done
with Mirrors (and other reflections)]
___
Twenty Stories
Sitting on the ledge
Of a three day binge
Twenty stories
Can gain perspective
"You fucking crazy" she said
While bouncing off the walls
Looking for the stash.
"I'm fucking crazy!" I screamed
The Vegas dusk smiled humid
And still they came . . .
Up to lock the window
- Crayton D. Moody
___
Curiosity Killed The Cat
"worst case of the bullhead
clap, I ve ever seen"
the Dr. said shaking his head
the nurse came in with
a 5 pound sledgehammer,
a stack of towels,
a blow torch,
& a meat skewer
they grinned at each other,
my legs started shaking
of their own accord
"dddoctor, what dddo
you plan to dddo?"
I asked
"place your penis
& testicles upon
the counter, please"
he lights the blow torch
it hisses blue yellow
the nurse hands
him the sledge
while heating the skewer
the room starts swimming
suddenly the Dr. is
on the floor unconscious
a lump growing on his pate
the nurse has her
bare ass hiked in the air
& I m riding doggie
toward the North Pole
- Catfish McDaris (from the Funk/works chap)
___
Sundown
Job makes me something I dont wanta
No ‘Let us' here put heads together crap
Blore imitation, stupid papercut, sundown awkward
- Mark Sonnenfeld (from the Funk/works chap)
___
barnyard education
i must correct you on your correction
with a couth that has certainly been slept in
manure, Bob, is what you put on the garden
shit, is what you step in
- Bernell Macdonald
___
Excerpt from AFTER A NITE WITH THE KKKKILLOWATTFMSTATION
boy the music was hot last night.
it burned my left nipple
and drilled a hoe (sic) right into
my throat. sharksheetsmuse music
all that jazz caused me
a need for goo & gloo whatthehell if this is
so i fixed it right up
and never turned off that
rinky dinky berzerk walkman
i listenlikea singer of
i list
i list away like i m a high protean powder with nothing to do
byte
hear voices in the soprano saxes
of the boom boom godessed gagged & plished up like fine silver
taken outta my teeth
music is funner when you can hear the voices in your neckle
chord
try living it up with daddio
vo dough di och.
- Alice Olds-Ellingson
___
March Madness
using broken pails
to bail the rain
overworked and underpaid
spring semester
familiar ring
slap me senseless
bitter sting
I crash on the commuter train
until tattoo talk shakes me awake
cheap booze and tattoos
mix with
small talk
And the daily news
the commuters create
a constant chatter
my train of thought
gets suddenly shattered
I need to nap
I am wound-up tight
I just might snap tonight
- Chris Bodor
___
the morning after drinking all night in waco
my eyelids jack-hammer
themselves open at 6:23am
for some un-godly
reason.
my mouth feels like i've
been eating rat turd sweet
tarts . . . it's a stale taste.
i raise my balloon head &
there she is sitting at the
kitchen table with a fresh
beer in hand,
eyes wide open,
bolt up-right
looking around like
Plato or Socrates
a roach scampers across the
table, her hand flattens it
like paper as she announces
majestically, "i found this
one stashed in the ice box
way back behind the lettuce!"
- William Bryan Massey III (from his chapbook The Sister:
A small tale of great distress)
___
Struggle to Relax
Meaninglessness
Suicide seems like a task
Depression takes a hold
I'm too tired to attempt
I can handle my position
Prone on my back
But I can't decide what to do
Struggle or relax
- William David Hall
___
FANTASIES
in a small dingy room
of a small dingy brothel
of the red-light district
an unhappily married
business man has his
fetishes actualized
as the aging prostitute
dreams one step closer to
her fenced suburban detached
complete with husband and kids
- Bernell Macdonald
___
SWEET IS THE NIGHT
(for John Sweet)
bleak
desolation, desecration, mutilation
standing in a landscape of
11:00 news autobiographical poetry therapy
eyes bleeding from the splinters
of hard edge america
only april makes him smile
running into the holocaust
weaving in macrabe dances down
streets of endicott, new york,
spitting out tarnished gold coins
to cover the eyes of the dead
april s solemn sanctuary crying in the wind,
the cold heat of the vagrant sun
burning holes in the ragged sidewalks,
sinister songs of sex and slayings
seep through the cracks and eat the day
leaving only dark visions and
sweet night shadows
- Gary Jurechka
___
I Wanna Go Home
Never wanted after hours
parties. Never needed malcontent
fanatics dropping phone #‘s,
pants or skirts. Only wanted
a little unrequited love.
Only needed a new kind of
strange brew. Undiscovered
Norma Jean. Mixed up. Fucked up.
beauty queen w/o penial implants
or breast enlargements.
15 beers later I wouldn t
care if the wicked witch of the west
wanted to get lucky. I d click my heels
after it was consummated.
Knowing Captain condom would
take me home. Not wanting payment for the obvious.
- Wayne Wilkerson
___
TOUGH
It is a sad fact:
to attract a tooth fairy
you have to lose teeth
- Mike Hoy
___
OF PERCEPTIONS AND PROSECUTIONS
Life is a one—way mirror
like in stores or police rooms
where I can see the past reflected
but can catch no clear glimpse
of the opaque future
clouded as if in a
crystal with a psychic
peering into infinite
possibilities. Never
getting an answer.
Still, peering intently,
straining eyes that
only stare back into
the present with cataract futility
of what may happen next
Not wanting to spend
time behind bars, I take
the pilfered merchandise out
of my coat, but unable to resist,
I shoot the finger
at the ceiling s hidden security camera.
- Gary Jurechka and Wayne Wilkerson
___
SPLIT
Girlthing, when your e hot
I can smell you for miles
I tracker I will not stop
fight my way to you, coiled
for impact like gun hammer
I will shred your secondary
fabric flesh, split you open
taste your burning thighs and
finding you ripe and willing
I will kiss and lick you I
will read your heaving body
like braille I will arrive
to consummate feast on your
skin-flower until you speak
in tongues I will quench my
cock s raging furnace hunger
in your pussy, in your mouth,
in your ass, in anyplace I
might squeeze it in no this
won t take a half hour I
need a whole night a month
a year a life or three
- C.F. Roberts
___
The Days Lacking of Sympathy
"John . . ." who was a client that
she had worked with for the past
eleven months, ". . . died last night"
she told me
there was, of course, nothing
I could say to bring him out
of it so I said
nothing
but I did think of how it was
not anything unusual;
people are dying all
the time
everywhere,
and for most of them,
it will be the one thing
they will do
best.
- Mark Senkus (from his chapbook Dreams and Garbage and
The Abyss)
___
The Example
Cold and dark
November.
A single rose
outside my window
is in bloom,
looming large and full
of color and life and everything.
saying
Look.
See
how easy
it is.
- William Taylor, Jr. (from his chapbook The Sad Dumb Beauty
of Everything)
___
BE THIS THE VERSE?
They fuck you up, your sons
It isn t really fair
By doing what you should have done
Not being what you were.
They fuck you up, your daughters
Deserving of the best
Instead of men who walk on water
They choose partners you detest
They fuck you up your children
When the grey shows in your beard
Being everything you wanted
and everything you feared
- Mike Hoy
___
The Happy Poem
Smile
Fucker.
- Grey Ajurahck
___
Goddess
skin mean but weak
with delirious apparatus
want pink chocolate
have whisper
recall lather, vision, friend
- Victoria
___
Insanity
Disrobing the damsel
I ran my fingers
Across her smooth white flesh
Tracing the lines of maturity
When like a great wave
Of boredom
Overcame my desire for her
Most sacred gift
I balked . . .
Disinterested
And lit a smoke instead
Deciding the thought of a drink
Sounded much more appealing
Insanity
- Crayton D. Moody
___
SPOOK
1
every ring
on
every hand
distorted
the mumbling
to no one
to go away
2
fuck
the malcontents
i m locked
inside the
box
of waste
my mind
crushed
on the spray
i can t quit
but return
each night
smoking
praying for
the sign
or the talk
so seldom
here
3
my head
the echo
of saturday
frights
locked
in gold
fumes
who fuck
who fuck
the nothing
can
so returns
spell every day
every sock
an invite
to pull in
and sniff out
another
dream
- Lawrence Welsh
___
Surf
we called it the last summer
because that s when it fell apart
carl kicked out of his apartment
sleeping on top of the county
owned restroom down at toes beach
snuggling up with anything
he could find like a stolen
sixer of schlitz malt liquor
and a pack of newports
he tried crashing at the burnt-out
frat house but no dice
frat boys found him curled up in
a corner and said sigma chi
would never approve of anyone
sleeping in that long-gone relic
in so many ways we had all gone inland
kevin, the goofy footer,
working a straight gig at hughes aircraft
dave, the knee boarder,
sponging off a rich girl in simi valley
sliffkoff back in jail for selling pcp
and me eight miles away breaking my back
at safeway on a graveyard stock crew
but carl still had the waves
even though he didn t body surf anymore
he heard them at night
while tossing and turning
on the warm tar roof
his head buzzing from it all
hanging on to the memories of the summers before
when all it took was robbing
someone s car as they made the
trek for a weekend slice of toes beach
smash the window
look for the wallet under the seat
and then a case of miller
and a pack of smokes and we d
watch the girls and the sparkling ocean
like diamonds and wait for the news
of the next party
and carl held on as the next generation
took our spots
took our lifes
took our dreams
and then he left one day
and made the trek inland too
- Lawrence Welsh
___
Underground
Slipping under
blanket
as clean
as the dream
I dreamed
of you
of me
Flat eared
striving
for meaning
which
underground
Torn and worn
clean under
I strike a match
to see
the secret
under the
blanket
- William David Hall
___
THE MAD GIRL COULDN T TAKE HAVING A PENIS OF HER OWN FOR
MORE THAN ONE DAY
one might charm, be
a change. To see it
all from a different
angle, carrying a
loaded weapon, daring
to go where she
wouldn t before. No
panhandler would
try to look up
her dress. She wouldn t
have to shave her
legs, be sweet, be
pretty. Her penis
would open any door,
a skeleton key with
its own life, its
own secrets. She
wouldn t be waiting
in any of the lines
she has: for the
manager s job, the
coffee pot, ladies
room. Even at a
wedding she smirks,
the bride comes last.
After a while it
might be a chore,
keeping the little
fellow happy, not
letting it get in-
sulted or bored or
hit the ground
in a desert where
it could get shot
up or hacked off,
stuffed in her mouth
or buried in sand.
Or petrified and
bottled like
Napoleon s in a
pickle jar, smuggled
from country to
country. Or tossed
to the dogs who
prefer hearts, would
let it rot to remind
anyone who comes
near it how close
lice and life are
- Lyn Lifshin
___
I'm Bad
The bent old lady was slow—unsteady with her steps.
She held herself up with a cane. She wanted me—
My taxi. She called out— Can you help me mister?
Pissed off—I got out and opened the door for her.
I could have killed a few bottles of beer
in the time it took her to get in—
Or at least finished the sports page.
I felt like telling her to call a fuckin' ambulance.
She wanted me to take her to the bank
around the corner—and wait while she
made a transaction. Then—she wanted me
to take her to the market and wait
while she shopped—
And of course—I d have to carry the bags
inside her house.
On our way to the bank—all she did was complain
About growing old and dying. I was already
depressed.
We got to the bank.
It took her all of five minutes to get out of the cab
and make her way inside.
When she was out of sight
I took off.
- Dave Church
___
Let Me Count the Ways
You're acrimonious
bitter
callous
diabolical
egotistical
and fickle.
You re a god awful
hopeless
irritating
jealous
kill-joy
Your mind is SO little.
You re a malicious
nausiating
obstreporous
piss artist
queer as a fourpenny bit.
You re a rat arsed
sodding
toss pot
An ugly
vile
wanker
a xenaphobic yukky zit.
And I love you.
- Mike Hoy
___
The Search
When I was twenty
It was a ball
And there were no thoughts
About the right one
It was this one and that one
Booze music and fun
When I was thirty
The search began
It became more than
Flesh and bone
And I thought of marriage
And a home
Tired of hangovers
Bent retching over
The toilet bowl
The searching of the soul
When I was forty doubts
Began to set in
Memories of my mother
Breaking a dish over
My father's head
A lover two years dead
Young women passing in and
Out of my bed
When I was fifty the women
Began to walk it on
Past my door
The bars became a bore
But the search went on
And on and on
Now at sixty
My spirit on the run
I no longer play the game
Just trying to stay sane
Having escaped the mad house
Having escaped the nursing home
Is a small victory in itself
The graveyards are filled
With lovers who searched
For the right one
Only to rot under
The weight of the sun
- A.D. Winans (from his chapbook Venus in Pisces)
___
BALLET CLASS
the men drenched,
perfecting what
nobody said would
come easy. Buttocks
like hard melons,
pools of sweat
like someone working
at love. Thighs
open, reach and
stretch. You can t
see anybody s heavy
breath. Bodies
move toward each
other, spin until
it seems the room
would blur. Like
the Shakers they
rarely touch
- Lyn Lifshin
___
acrophobia
im terrified of heights
especially tall buildings
dont tell me about guardrails and glass
im not afraid of falling
but jumping
even more scary is the realization
that im not suicidal
im afraid im going to jump
just for the fun of it
- Bernell Macdonald
___
A Mistake
I must admit I m more than a bit
embarassed to have to take back
that poem
I had dedicated
to you
and I hope you understand
that I do so only with great
reluctance
and red faced shame
but you see a great mistake
has been made,
for now, having truly
known you
I realise
I had written it
for someone else.
- William Taylor Jr.
___
ENDORPHIN RICH
Perhaps his love is the kind that disappears
when I walk out of the room.
I don t care.
And I know he s a flirt.
And he sees someone else
from time to time.
And he brags he has no morals or guilt
and probably needs an A.I.D.s test.
Yet I want
the cream of his loins in mine.
I want his hot milk-shake in my mouth.
I want him to bathe my throat with his joy
and to feel his electric silk body all around me.
I want his long wet kisses
in my two hot mouths.
I cannot portray my feelings here,
moments of heart and soul
and the laughter we share.
Others would say we re just having fun.
I ll accept that.
It s a step up from the portrait I paint
of a dangerous, hedonistic little mover
and a sensuous, unmitigated fool.
- Belinda Subraman
___
Some Truths
They tell me you re nothing
more than a
self
serving
manipulative
unattractive
bitch
with dumb
face
crooked
mouth
&
heart of
cardboard.
I say your drunken
laughter at
3 a.m.
is more beautiful
than god.
They are right
and I am right.
I buy you another drink with the
understanding
that some truths
matter more
than others.
- William Taylor Jr.
___
A LITTLE DITTY ON THE UNIVERSAL
QUESTION UPON HUMAN EXPIRATION
Who can say
death is a doorway,
when it just may
be a brick wall?
Who can really say?
Of those living, none at all,
none at all.
- Gary Jurechka
___
Erogenous Zone
Your neck is so erogenous
with cords so tight and thin,
the muscles lump along your jaw
when twin punctures let me in.
I love to glide my tongue
along the smooth length of your nape,
then linger near the upper spine
I kiss beneath my cape.
Like luscious fruit
your shoulders beckon boldly, firm and round,
reflecting little moons of lust
above your body bound.
The hollow
of your throat so deep between your collarbones
fills up with blood that trembles off
in trickles between moans.
Your neck is so exquisite,
slender, columnar, and tight;
and pale when it s drained complete
beneath my final bite.
- Michael W. McClellan
___
picasso skies
and you re beautiful
in the carbon monoxide
twilight
a halo of prozac
and a small silver cross
and i kiss your scars
beneath the weight of
picasso skies
three thousand miles
from los alamos
and nothing but sugar
and a needleful of god
in my veins
lost beyond words
but almost home
- John Sweet
___
TOUCHES
Curled up in bed
with my Siamese
I think of a loving man
I recently met.
He French kisses
like the devil of paradise
as I stroke his long dark mane.
My Siamese stretches and sighs,
touches his warm paw to my cheek
and scoots to nuzzle in my hair
as if to augment my thoughts.
It is not bad to live alone
as long as
there s the love of a good cat
and a man to pet.
- Belinda Subraman
___
For Yvonne DeCarlo
It was always you Lilly
Who kept me watching!
For hope the image
Of your shroud would
Finally prove to be,
And in the end become,
See—through and reveal
Just the ghostly outline
Of your sweet round nipples,
The Vee of your dark pubic hair...
- Denworthy
___
NO DELUSIONS HERE
Scattered across the floor,
crumpled white balls
blemished by lines of black ink
scribbled and crossed out,
words and phrases
that died on paper
as I relentlessly search
for the ultimate poem.
This obviously isn t it.
- Gary Jurechka
___
At the Flamingo Hilton...
I overhear a man
bragging to his wife and kids,
"Not everybody comes to Vegas
and gets 10 to 1 odds."
"Yeah," the wife said,
"you made nine dollars today."
So he d dropped a buck
and gotten back ten
and was acting so cocky
you could tell
he d be a big loser soon.
In the same resort,
the night before,
a housewife lost $20,000
playing $5.00 slot machines
two at a time
always believing
in the next spin of the wheels.
A belief so beyond reason,
so beyond knowing
that if Lady Luck exists at all,
she s a bitch.
- Belinda Subraman
___
a young boy kidnapped
a young boy kidnapped
and murdered
and left for the animals
in the southern
california desert
i write about it
on a rainy spring morning
from the safety of a
second-story apartment
in new york
this
is the kind of coward
i am
- John Sweet
___
Sometimes Even Critics Speak The Truth
You re so full of
shit, she said,
the way you
romanticize everything,
it's
maddening.
You take everything trivial
and transform it
into something more
than it is, was, or
could ever be.
I paused a moment,
considering every nice
poem I had ever
written
about her
and had to admit
she was right.
- William Taylor Jr.
___
FOR TWENTY FIVE YEARS THE PHOTOGRAPHER PHOTOGRAPHED HIS
WIFE, NUDE, EVERY DAY BETWEEN 4 AND 5 PM
although he was good, times were not easy.
We didn t know about any wars ahead but we
knew depression. Sometimes it was freezing
when I stepped out of heavy wool and layers
of cotton. He used to joke it didn t matter
we had no money for new clothes: I didn t
need them. In truth, he was the one that
didn t care and I guess I was lucky,
my skin, my belly the envy of any young girl
even if it wasn t wrapped in silk and
cashmere. Some afternoons I dreamt of
thick soup and meat roasting to a crisp.
Not romantic but true. Once we thought we d
have to move back with his parents. On the
bill boards, everybody was smiling. If
there d been more work, maybe he couldn t have
kept me naked for him every day. It wasn t
like he was making money from it. Octobers were
the leaves falling, like our fuel, losing
their flame and gold, all their wild color
- Lyn Lifshin
___
SPIDER REMNANTS
Dead web, gray sunlight
a beautiful, lonely frame
catching stardust and
moonlight and glistening dew and
raindroplets that shatter the sun
into a million splendid prisms of colour
Silently swaying in feather breezes
until strand by strand
carried away
by the wanton wind.
- Gary Jurechka
___ |
