more than love

the monkey-lady & the alligator-man
were married for 57 years. something
on tv last night doug was watching,
i stood & saw a little of the story.
she was very bearded.
his skin must have been frightening
to touch. but they loved each other,
worked the circus, eventually
adopted a regular boy. the alligator-
man died in 1995.
the monkey-lady was shown, old & clean-shaven,
reminiscing in florida. doug kept eating
ranch-flavored sunflower seeds,
the splintery shells filling a bowl,
& i needed sleep. cable with doug
in the livingroom, where the lovers
were pictured in rare footage, while
this bedroom tv gets 4 channels.
i told you the monkey-lady
& the alligator-man were tagged
THE STRANGEST COUPLE IN THE WORLD.

"we're not that far behind them,"
you grinned.

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New Mexico, 74 degrees, January 28th

I broke a beer bottle
she said
I think I cleaned
most of it up

you broke a beer bottle?
over one of the neighbors'
heads
or what?

no on the dumpster
she says
I threw it but
I missed

you missed the neighbor's
head? I ask
and she gives me
that look again.

you threw a bottle
at the dumpster
and it broke
and you cleaned it up?

of course
she said --
I was angry about
the beer bottles.

she goes around picking
up the beer bottles
and cans the neighbors
leave everywhere.

the neighbors
are lowlife dipshits
I guess she's not used
to neighbors like that.

but this is poets' housing
not that the neighbors
are poets but they
are funded like poets

she picks up rocks
out back
and throws them in
the dumpster

I tell her
hey they're just rocks
you can throw them
anywhere

you don't have to take
them out to the dumpster
throw them at
that damn chihuahua

and she gives
me that look again
but I'm smiling
like I didn't mean it

one bunch of neighbors
gave us a sofa
when they moved out
actually lainie said

you taking that to
the dumpster?
thinking it looked
pretty much ok

and I come into the
bedroom from watching
tv and she screams
at me

pointing at my pants
which have a
big fat roach
running up them

the sofa hit the
dumpster very soon
after that but I think
some of the roaches

must have escaped
and she is not happy
about this at all
but the cats love them

fresh meat --
now the little cat
Ninna is in heat
suddenly

assaulting us in the night
with horrible ghostly
moaning sounds
and weird bed dances

bumping her butt
up against us
like we might have
a boy cat hidden

in a pillowcase
and just won't share
now the chihuahua starts
barking again

the chihuahua who
slips through the fence
to shit in
our backyard

the chihuahua who
yips like he's been
stepped on
morningnoon&night

the chihuahua
who comes running
full speed through
his closed back door

in which his owners
have thoughtfully knocked
a big ugly hole
to accommodate him

and I think yeah
I gotta find a way
to make more money
to apply to other housing

cause summer is coming
the neighbors all will throw
open their doors, gifting
our 90 degree summer evenings

with a dozen versions
of the macarena
and boombox mariachi music
and beer bottles will fly

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VIVA LA RESISTANCE

I just can't
let you brown eye
your way through me
again
Can't fall shattered
at your feet like before
There is a now
and then component
that changes all that
It's OK to pretend
Dress up and read
the lines
But the curtain
as always going to fall
Lord know the dust
will get in your eyes

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UNVEILED, THE ICE MAIDEN'S NON E MAIL PSYCHIC LETTER TO THE UNIBOMBER

Peru's Ampato Ice Maiden. Believed to be about 500 years old, found near the summit of 20,7000 Mount Ampato, was probably offered as a sacrifice by Inca priests.

"Veiled" I keep hearing when the curious read
about us both. Your mother talked about a veil
coming down and then the veil lifting. I'm billed,
yes, I use that word because it's not unlike your
new name, Unibomber, "Peru's Ice Maiden,
Unveiled. But let me tell you, the glass case I

lie in is misty, it's as much a veil as the snow I
could feel sun thru, smell leaves in the melting
light. To keep my cool, more gadgets and blowers,
the breath of strangers against glass is as much a
veil at times as spun alpaca. I'm trapped in this
bell jar as you are in your cell, our cages guarded

by the hour. The other day I heard a man who had
waited on line for me an hour talk about being on
line with you. I realize he meant the Internet, a
word I often mis up with "internment" after
being buried in ice 500 years. You'd easily guess
why. He talked about down loading. I wondered if

this was something like being lugged down the
mountain, strapped on a stranger's back, rushed
in a bus until I was tucked away in a freezer. I
heard him say we both seem so well preserved for
what we've gone thru, that there is a mystique to
us both. He said they admire us for eluding everyone

for so long. We both have name recognition and I
know you speak my native tongue. Juanita and Ted,
both of us turned over to higher powers by our own
family. Where we've been, where we are going, so
fascinating that we each have our own fan clubs and
tho I didn't mean to be so forward, I'm just a low tech,

old fashioned girl, some say I may be the most sought
after woman in town, examined at John Hopkins,
wanted for my ovaries, my eggs, my DNA, my perfect
teeth. Do you think, Theodore, - I know you've had
few women and I'm a virgin- you could want me?

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The Twins

In their long pink dresses the twins
sit on the steps. Their mother keeps
one eye out the window, notices
the man approaching. He gets
hung up in their blonde hair, how
it curls around his hands like ribbon.
Their tiny feet in white shoes,
scuffed, could walk all over him.
The mother in the window calls out
sharply, "Girls! Better come in now!"
and he starts, doesn't say how pretty
they are, how he could melt them
in his mouth like cotton candy.
Even the air they leave behind smells
sweet, as if his tongue could lick it.

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It was waving at us, that bear.
real bear?
oh, no
Someone in a bear suit
had a little bow tie
and a little red vest
And he was waving at us
Perma-grin upon a fuzzy face
Huge, unblinking, happy eyes
Four-fingered paw raised
and waving
at us
Great torrents of laughter poured from the car
"What the fuck was that all about?
I asked.

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Ascend if you will
Descend if you must
But always cheat

It happens all over
People and their half-assed attempts
At suicide
Diving headfirst into the kitchen sink
Dancing with the shadows of ecstasy on the wall
Old men
Heading into downtown Chicago for some skull
In exchange for 40 bucks
Or perhaps a six pack.

People get ambitious and want to jog 4 miles a day
In pursuit of love
Only to try to drown themselves in the toilet the very next morning
After they find out its all gone
Or a silent lover in the night sneaks out the bedroom window
Leaving the home owner cold and numb with shriveled genitals.

I'm no better

Those things that I had with those girls in Phoenix
It was only sexual groans and grimaces and body sweat
Even tho, we all pretended
On our pristine little stage
Acting out yet another bullshit melodrama
Trying to cover up yet another sham.

I am
I'm stupid enough to miss home
Although I've never really had one
I play with scorpions in the kitchen sink
It's all over when the sting stings like life
But there is no finality, no conclusion, no great last eclipse
No finish line to run toward

It's all a deserted dessert mirage
And the grim reaper is a middle man
Sucking lemons and grinning thru stupid dime store dentures.

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Dimensional # 3

Head hummer hoe down
In the empty house
Positives euphoric like
Marshmallow feeling sweaty fingers
Can't come up for air
Just yet
Echoing silent attachment
Off the vast Michigan woods

My backyard rolling
In the snow dog
With a chewed off tail
The cats are agitated
With the weather

Pupils the size of apples
And kamel red lights my lungs
My computer is breathing
As the animals sleep

Locked inside
This self inflicted party
I invited myself
To explore the sounds

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dickens

Vanishing Point

my fathers vanishing point
cannot be put into your perspective
o leonardo
nor taught in any class
there must be palm trees
bloody in the pacific
and a sunday night in january
wichita, 1944
and a girl
enthralled by romance and christ
and you,
father
suddenly there
on the bus
resurrected from guadalcanal
and filled with searing sperm
i lie within your cock
within her egg
seeking
parallel lines of lust
to meet
in me.
stand her up against the
kitchen sink
and call it
statuatory rape
consenting
but somehow
illegal
as all my life will be
after you
zip
and smoke
and walk out the door
to what?
i think of palm trees
in the pacific
where you must have gone
they are always bloody
i think of you dead there
on some debri-strewn beach
marine
hard
tight
young
forever
vanished

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Scott Holstad

Planet Earth

One lucky summer afternoon
I found myself a job at a
punk rock club, pounding
the drinks. My friend
Robert and I would meet
before going in and get
stone cold drunk. We
saw colors where they
weren't meant to be,
vivid images, and we
worked the girls, tried to
make them love us, or at
least make love to us.
We then went to our club
and drank the entire night.
We enjoyed the people in
mohawks, those painted
entirely in black like
fresh coal, those with
too much makeup for
boys to wear, the billy
clubs, guns, knives,
paying off the bouncers
working the door cause
they were football players
and could crush skulls.
It wasn't too hard and
we partied with the
bands in the back; I
often went numb with
excitement. The boss
was a cokehead and as
cokeheads go, he wasn't
a bad sort, though he had
a temper and threw an
employee through the
second story window.
Planet Earth only lasted
a short while for me,
but the memories linger
on and shall not
be forgotten.

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Michael Hathaway

SUNDAY SCHOOL

she said
"in heaven there'll be streets
made of transparent gold
& a mansion for everybody"

& i said "wow! but what
do people do in heaven?"

she said, "you can do
anything you want in heaven"

& i said, "do you mean
i could ride dinosaurs
& sing with Mama Cass?"

& she said "uh, i guess so."

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the reading

if I were more sure, confident
lived in a different world
flamboyant
I may step up to a mic
hair wild and electric down to my bottom
adorned in tight jeans, seductive
blouse riding my fullness
hands moist in nerves, passion
for my words, the chance to share them
perhaps tantalize an audience

instead, I remain more at ease, an at home girl
low mileage as you put it, and with an added
grin, a rarity to find one so naughty
more comfortable in bare feet, a silver toe ring
tights and a soft sweater
I smile shyly when you ask if I write
anything other than poetry
a plot with in-depth characters?
I laugh, not even if I tried
but cutting to the chase, I have my way

so I read, cross legged, sitting across
from you, something few friends have seen
few web sites will publish
I giggle, even blush throughout
trying to carry on
your intense gaze, moaning of your hips
scuttles my occasional silence
the reading is over, ready to be lived

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Sally Mour

Retro Backwards

Who knows why
These days I seem
To have immersed
My brain with
What used to be
Maybe my own
Mortality is in my face
Music fills so much space
The words of wars gone
And some coming
Like an echo heard
Over and over again
Now I am reading
Grace Slick Somebody
To love she said
And she did
Love that is
Always doing her
Own Thing..twins maybe
We had our acid dreams
Our hookahs and dragons
Two or three really good
Men and maybe a few
That were just MEN
If you know what
I mean by that.
I ain't quite ready yet
To give up the ghosts
Hanging out in
Heaven maybe or
Even hell with Grace and me
There are a few
Things that still can
Blow my mind
Which is a good thing

I guess
Or hey even
Tomorrows sunset.
Mushroom cloud Not.


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Underpass

In the thirties
and no end in sight
for the cold snap
crackin' the cheeks
and "Tysonizing"
the ears
of the homeless.

Two tattered shopping carts,
dressed in riches to rags,
sit comforting each other
as headlights reveal
the contents
of their tainted travels.

Life
under the overpass
is the e"pit"o'me
of trampled under foot

The soundwaves
of cars
crashing
on the
concrete beaches overhead
are a solemn lullaby
for the newspaper mummies
wrapped up
on the cold stone pedestals
under the interstate.

An occasional spot light
disturbs the somber dreams
as passers by
roll through the bedroom
checkin' out the newest
in Calvin Klein
Sunday Classified
Urban evening apparel

The dreams . . .
of a warm bed
not made with
Morning News sheets,
Army Jacket blankets,
and sweat shirt pillows,
under a real roof
not made
of cold concrete,
steel,
and Jack Frost
havin' a four coarse
body part banquet

The dreams . . .
of a hot bath
not taken
in the corner
gas station restroom
with paper towels
and liquid hand soap
while avoiding
used syringes
left by the local junkie
on the floor.

The dreams . . .
of hot food
not purchased
from nickels and dimes
dropped
in a tattered hat
while holding
a cardboard sign
begging for a hand
at the corner stop light
as judgements
----FLY!
through tinted windows
in the Rush Hush Hour

The dreams
of clean
warm clothes
not shared everyday
with gnats,
lice,
and passers by
that feel they need
that coat
more than you
and convince you
at knife point.

these dreams flow on...

for without these illusions

reality would kill...

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kudzu jellyfish

kudzu jellyfish hangs over head
anchored in the sky
miles and miles of the merciless
blanket vine covering bushes, trees,
houses, cars, sleeping dogs,
and slow moving pedestrians
held the the eroding earth together
only to devour it's fruit
leaving no choice but chemical retaliation

kudzu jellyfish roosts upon
a crackling telephone wire
dangled green tentacles
flutter and swing in the warm southern wind
stretching to grip a pick-up truck corpse below

highway guardrail's steel
lost in green suffocation
runs roadside forever
"does it ever end, darlin?"
"if we keep drivin' north."
this morning i swept the porch
on my way out
this evening i bought a machete
to cut my way through the
crawling vine to get back in.

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joy

joy and adverse reactions
induced by happiness
the purple kind
that drips from your head
and smells fresh
like a salty vegetable cat

implosions and spontaneous combustion
due rewards for meandering tittilation
don't grieve for a man that explodes
from over excited molecules
sped into a frenzy
with a shifty smile
a smile of joy
joy and adverse reactions

philosophy of inquiry
thoughts of consequence
unavoidably slimy sensations
a green glow warmth
two steps before the end
two feet after the fact
its gonna be one million pieces
a trillion atoms
six feet under

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