JUXTA/ELECTRONIC 14 Editors: Ken Harris, Jim Leftwich Poets: Taz Delaney, Steve Fried, Malok, Tom Taylor, Steve McComas, Theo Lorenc, Amy Trussell, John M. Bennett |||||||||||||||||||| MALOK ONCE IS 2-MANY TIMES BALLING in sycamore, silaca ascending twat-angels bleed the guts a press-dent first glimmers excellent defeats, first intents of first and last world thoughts the last conception of coarse silk and woman's aspects manly puberty at the apex of reality "jive" H-bomb nothingness "jive" basicks in religion "jive" Thunderbird bumps "jive" slop-pope forgets humanity "jive" ice-faith in outhouse realm ""jive"" My tongue is sticking, jeering; the grimace, my country. The furthest reaches to beyondness; true fibre, thought. Good MaryJane in the way-wheelchairs; retarded moral of. Purity handicap thinline assholes Virtue niggers first-stone casters Sitting dumb by the fire resus monkey fingers the entwined pubic singing at ice the scream he's creating the feces touch mother rectal area, out J.C. knew the idea was not the product, blank tape eaten by the leering mirrors of fear. Religion, as perped on this planetoid, most evil-shit. Star-matter wasps bang the first and last universe. We're all sick wit hbug-spray. Jane's loincloth so quick, it hurts. Null-brains without cosmos-cum, iit hurts. Dead Los Angeles dogs on angina salads, iiit hurts. Inter-demented time/scales toasting shit, iiiit hurts. Mayfly's frying brain splats million Alamo, iiiiit hurts. Monk-junkies hiding from dirt, Big Ambus content, iiiiiit. I eat spiders. I vomit void molecules. I drink the wonder-brook. I piss the magnetic polarity. I fuck emotional nothingness. I feed my birds stupid. DEC. 19, 1986 I JUST HAD TO WATCH MY TEAM DIE (BARRACUDA My feet are clothed woth socks and children are used at halftime for prop purposes, a pox of veral black headers on USA governmental! Fuck that eclair exclamation! Amerika is the country where freedom rings and smokers are hung by their eyeballs and a woman has no rights, no rights over her own sovereign area - where Jesse Helms is some kind of role model for something and where the word "fuck" attracts stones (and the fuck has never been uttered yet that really should and would atomize the zoidals). I spit on that flag they are so ready to bow and kiss to, some overt object of golden calf-dum and rever-ence, a blindfaith non- thinking robotic flit-jerk react! I pledge obedience to the piece of symbolic clothe and will kill all peoples that don't look like me, etc ......................... I will rework the language to suit my agenda and use children at halftime in high security measured, a reflection of mine mind and no allowance of their own. Make my grave less mellow. Earth be silent, gray makers of mine eyes be stilled. They be blind! Did the lonely traveller spit upon the mirror of Self? Heresy is reason. Violence a healer. Freedom shrouds our slavery. World of madness, tangled in the universal strait-jacket, mocked by depravity, scorned in beauty. Travelling the Roads of Despair! Can we gaze upon the bleached reflection?! Kill all that is left of me on this planet. Ramainnotesounauka. JAN. 27, 19991 CIVIL HORSESHIT SPLATTERS (2) Simletomauk! All the drivel boogers posing in the juices of their own love-sweats and bready Charles wonders at the minis, tutu-wear blood/bounce dreamin', angst hippity-hops past Korean bomb craters ... Hell Planet Parties! A smile is like a naked knife! Reuniting the cleft, sharp paradise dreams mothering the sexed Jesus ... only ethics!? This is not the Earth of the future prayers. The untimate gorilla self-deception in stiff parasite forever-blasts, of the certainty Alamo! I wit o' to tits the horpy-jorpies! Arms fooled in the salute ... experience the bored cars and happy headaches left in heaven! My palms are my new-found leisure pods. I control the crash of my rush ... logroom psychedelic original "god" leak! As the factors of the Entropic Ultimeters whirl apace and on, on ... THIS ... THAT ... the precede, the day, the father's rancid pus raining, ... ALL ... the Final Flash (7th year), June 19th, 1987 congestion-spurtin" blind, it only rains in the afterlife! Phouda-Gaidha! JUNE 18, 1994 HABITAT ENTROPY-ORGIES ON THE LOOSELY MOORISH (SIRIUS CACKLES) Gulped the last teat, the total melted calculations buzz with the left/right eyeball ... elsewhere I am blind! A search for Charles Bronson clones?! A trail to telemarketeer's genital-scrunch!? A tour of Dutch UFO gift shops?! My brain is a bargain! My mind is a ham! My soul is a speaker-phone! Korgen- swauk-eetirgo! Where. Oh. Where. Is Steven Smith!? My carbon chips! The last time I was in Chicago (2 stations, square caps and hardy cigs) I photographed the fleas. Still (Mr. Lee) the stroke of the wending fart, the helicopter MISTAKES! The clause render the shift ... less gender in the aliens! So! Make my grave less mellow ... Martian Seas, dust. Ramainnotesounauka! NOV. 10, 1994 BANG-GRADUATIONS IN STUPID CITY O - "Three minutes in the jello-plunge will do us all good! Kill booty!" M - "The cat teaches with coffee? Laughing and bending will be penalized!" O - "I can't see anything to feel. Will you help the monk shave her ears? Big eyes fly in plain colors." M - "A great jov for the boobies! Ship the wonder-bra to Rwanda! Assist aliens!" O - "The angels decay with smiles that muscle the portable swimming pools. Naked blood is peace and brains, children!" M - "Skunch the groins!" |||||||||||||||||||| John M. Bennett \\\\\ \\\\\ spin your boat flute sinks SILVER FLASH your flush spouts keen sail or )or your shoulder in the milk bread floats "at last" |||||||||||||||||||| TAZ DELANEY disparate paras Palavers, honeyed. Ho! scroll ajar A wee zeal ago in dategrid needoveryskew fretified prettifaction? Art art mine allizing atamind quagware fogpi span Nice warmed Toe Recall the termites that ate me as a tree, the drifting nets in the sea the vegetables are commiserating with the meat dish good better bastard, faster and faster bastard how powerful a gun would it take to prop up a house of cards players and place of tunes it doesn't look like sky at all, it looks like letters the hole between your wordsky and the wind chimes of a nursing home Vaporveins blinkink voice, deviarrays lickwritten cineture, nover setoldowns abcertaintease See this way by the shadow shifting within it Self the shadow falls forever. Light falls more slowly |||||||||||||||||||| John M. Bennett \\\\\ \\\\\ struts the) bag, aguacate bin of watches cuento flaking desk you stray back on clinking passes stone )gust glue mourns the stamp) my flag gate "stacks of spoons" "I was peering down your throat" (Flooded, formal |||||||||||||||||||| STEVE McCOMAS \\\\\ \\\\\ THE GUILTY SECRET WE BOTH SHARE: MY PARENTS ARE LIKE CHILDREN BLACKMAILING ME ... 'Where the hell do you think you've been?' THEY FORCED ME TO HAVE AWFUL ARTHRITIC JOINT REPLACEMENTS LEGIONNAIRE'S DISEASE CRAMPS MASSAGE TECHNIQUES STRETCH MARKS TOE TORTUE HEART MURMUR UMBILICAL HERNIA 'Who is it , Freddie? You're frightened of somebody, I know' I JUST CAN'T EAT A VAGINAL LUMP I DON'T WANT AN ENEMA MY FACE MUSCLES TWITCH WHAT'S HAPPENED TO MY SENSE OF SMELL? WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY EYES? WHY DO MY NAILS SPLIT? 'Why didn't you tell me my father was Hanged for murder? IT SPOILED MY HOLIDAY |||||||||||||||||||| John M. Bennett \\\\\ \\\\\ pens so greenly, fault "sea of trees" asked her paper breasts, font plain drone CLOUD pond, the rested table's flame, "her" (clasped the knees) sea tall screen stem |||||||||||||||||||| THEO LORENC \\\\\ \\\\\ Protreptic modes of nutrition, a Mr. Big of semi-Biblical proportions, cancer festivals, divination based on static from shortwave radio, flavour diskettes, three numbers, spacebar amulet. \\\\\ \\\\\ A Fragment 'For example,' he says, leaning back slightly, 'traffic lights will no longer be run to a preconceived pattern. Rather each set will take account of the states of the people whose movements it controls - and this means as much an ambulance ignoring it as a car obeying it, since the actions of both are immediately defined in relation to the traffic light - and change according to rules intuitively derived from the aggregate state it perceives. At the same time, traffic across the whole city moves in a broadly rational way, so the behaviour of one set of lights will influence and be influenced by the others (those nearest to it most distinctly), in a way related to the changes and continuities of state of the drivers passing between them. Thus, although the lights will not be connected as such, impulses of larger or smaller scale will pass between them, and the aggregate decisions of the whole will constitute an organic unity. At night, on the other hand, when only occasional cars pass through, individual sets will be free to experiment with more or less irrational behaviours; and a car passing across the whole city will appear as an unwelcome intrusion for each individual set of lights, but as an inexplicable island of continuity for the whole, a broken memory of the day passing unnoticed through its dreams. |||||||||||||||||||| John M. Bennett \\\\\ \\\\\ ant it scaled loosely forth 'n foamy stain retention say it's so LASTER gate play of fire, tent rain scales of "home" forced tooth "fast chance" your comb |||||||||||||||||||| STEVE FRIED from PLACKETS 17\ adrenochrome contradyne drugs draw money but money draws lines mad man never could cast mine. caviars cost what bugs sad mimes. cornered I couldn't shoot past fine times. nobody's angel mugs masts floated crossed. a fad sine to forty five. polarized plugs clad in polymer fizzle fast rugs fan tossed emitted wine frost grabs grad plastic plays lost ~~~~~~~~~~ 31\ satis tissue sick is just another kind of straight howl louder than you can gait open. let fishbones stick bowel before you become your last fan late for the inch thick pan fried pet sans cowl fate is the losers you pick towel and locker floor man prick would get under state met horned owl tan talons set ~~~~~~~~~~ 37\ peninsular suspense high is a proper attitude to celebrate sit like a rubber stamp cerebrate away fright, a spy it sent to measure Gravity's spiral ramp masturbate on paper, tempted try vamp riffs, sight where fit hibernate from pink prescindence, fly shit in its sausageskins, tamp die cast night tighter, concentrate fight Father's pit lamp without light ~~~~~~~~~~ 61\ I do this unwilling to speak love fought spirit till body came shove your with through my caught memory with other articles of fame stove top stir fried by blame. Survival kit contains spot remover which may explain why pot made a time frame. DIe means spit under cover. Slit in my plot name myself it. ~~~~~~~~~~ 67\ spotted protest prosody can in the final catalysis wax prosaic. Having mutated to accomplished fact, meat pockets against possibly Mosaic sanctions upon issue too late admonished pack dying forebears into hospices. Astonished in rockets over Passaic ax dreamers executed strafing casually. Aramaic lore grows manfully diminished. Frostily jammed sockets defy pact pickets against Judaic furnished with plackets |||||||||||||||||||| John M. Bennett \\\\\ \\\\\ leaned) past shirt the sting (and fallows "sort of" reflected in my lap )rectal sore ("lecture's" )airy (thin hand steam allows "you're" dirt so fast (and then you |||||||||||||||||||| AMY TRUSSELL Astarte's Moon for M.B. it wasn't the fall of civilization that made me almost trip not the storm the buds of spring had just wheeled in on that left me dripping in a crease of time wasn't may wine made me drunk and drove me like a shopping cart to the escarpment it was the inside of me an egg not yet set and the brush of death's cat as i swooned on the levee and felt it: long ago had drowned by the prop roots of the nailed up tree in that ink composed hell turned and face your brightness and knew you as a chalice knows its own depth well of astarte's moon on the east side the creek fell over rocks in such relief that two feet slide in like carp then i laid down before her in the boat of black diamonds sank into the gathering liquid of the return to you dogwood flowers on the banks high above expanded in the dark white ovaries the water with fluted edges was the queen of cups having torn her hem on a root she was returning with all her stemware after a long long night Amy Trussell Easter Monday, 1995 Calistoga, CA |||||||||||||||||||| TOM TAYLOR freedom under discipline must follow huks i mean why sound smart? what is smart? when we say the mortal moan is felt not said, is known and acted not said nor smarted-out reference to the passed, elders the precession, the footnote to how it is - why bother? can we reconstruct the nature of nature without reference to nature? not to bemoan scholarship but why bother? this is a serious question, not no gadfly punk bullshit the lude: does knowing delimit must we not break with the past the passed know-nothingism deluged the stage earlier this cent. was itself a knowing, eh? said fuck you, said there was a faith that (rumi) el spontaneo wd contain the seeds of acts and faith not requiring the authority not requiring the approval of higher sorts even at its best in AA, the higher power rules not no forefinger in the chest, punch punch who the fuck do you think YOU are? Huh? no, not that, exactly, it's not defiant not a middle finger from center stage, no not that its a question why smart it? why not let it? is there not language there, too, everywhere slick words make the willie smoother, but its still a willie that is if we are seeking freedom, in the line and out, seeking to free ourselves in writing, in writing about it writing our way out of the paper bag why bother, why not just fucking write? would it be the monkeys like the pianos of dr lao eking out king leer or the canticle of liebowitz' remuneration of doubt into's presence all over again all over what's the biff? encod encryption only possible when the overview conscious is there to pluck it out; so if mute lingo, jargon, really doesn't capture the essence of a privacy why bother, why not bore on into the light huh? so how much the net gathers its porous tone not so much frequency but strengto cord o, fuck, i donno help me out here why smart? why not just grunt and suck and punch it out? that's not the skin, either and how did poetry become all wrapped up with truth, i thought the province of truth was, uh, oh i donno, notprose, not religo, and surely no longer not philo what then, how did poetry and quest for truth get all entangled but for mix of person and quest and act and saying and the moment itself of be fucking being there at the center of the blood storm, doubting and bending and why not cruise. why not just/duh/go with it man because that doesn't satisfy hmmm i mean i get all caught up thinking the better way to say it is the better way & i've noticed that some older writers get all wrapped up in what does all this mean when they no longer have it its the now of not; its the like you want to carry something forward something firward you want to so, gathering it all in, you lunge lunch out lurch forward, packabat i mean i wouldn't let go of much i've gathered from others, from smarts, and wouldn't spatter it uselessly, but will it help us here? now? the careful evolution of (whatever) wants to be erupted by a nomalous mutato a big fucking mutato - dino-pote, duh. denuso; platita her amort'd pluge i', hense, i'm slating forto-spule the rapted and skense, thim alle and that ain't it, boud. it's a hanker yanking plank, no more; where's the beet? so: smart & fuckinaround won't don't get it and what ah say what do? we await the emerge, like his hulking beast lurching toward bethlehem, recall? naw, we want it and we want it NOW. so its the new age demanding to be dumb is it? sez yu wanna yet still there must be a hook a plinny, a fomento and a drool there must something we haven't thought of yet yet we have, its a plot a puzzle a demento leapin lizards, itsa honk. develepmental scarop dictates buildup of pressure resulting in eventual explositon, dimenses of what are not to be described anticipate d nor measured. they are, that's all, sorta trekkie, if you ask me, but i believe and have indeed exploded several times, like, blown up a life and had to renew it again and again, & it do get old you wanna just fuckin get there, eh? so trust you follow not know day gets better days follow some sun sets higher, days follow and the room gets smaller pluncg released sports=dided lanker. i'm hoping to select to remove removal and see See you have already he saiz say, you have already seen is that the porno lunch? not to be there twice is to have missed it the first time, and remember deja new is avoids a voice calling naw, its pluck and chants paying first and secon//nay dis he acts in a trance. that s is it is it when you really act, you are in a trance but you cant talk about it a bit mad, it is can you remember a moment of acting without remembering, of just acting would you remember at all? the stud-vet answers: slowly, man, slowly i've encountered slights the way you meant nor found any skin aside and mine. movie rights any utterance might proclaim truth or doubt but the lingering sensation of pleasure is what lasts and then vanishes into smooth light and this is what carries us forward, not the simple mutation of pain and pleasure, but its lingering half life and the eventual dementia of solitude as we plinth forward and back over the skin on our thighs scrapping forward into the new and the tools themselves might encourage us in their magnitude, but its guts ball that wins the day, not its imitation in style, the real thing plunging forward grabbing you and yanking you down the train more i haven't got right now, it's plud the door says follow and you do 6.8.96 ||||||||||||||||||||