March 14, 2007
from Key Bridge
Ken Rumble
27.february.2001
I'm so hung-over
I could eat a live cat
and feel
better.
---
26.june.2001
There are answers
but they are complicated answers.
There are tables like cadavers
but they are metal-legged tables.
There is history
but it is temporary.
There is a hill like so:
(NE Georgia Ave –
driving into the city, reaching
the top of this hill, open your eyes, yes,
look ahead and right, don’t speed,
don’t speed, look, see,
open your eyes, yes,
to the city laid out
like directions.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
more from Key Bridge
Ken Rumble
24.december.2001
The return from there from her
Park Rd above the park
blue weight and location
blue 3am Tuesday taxis -- she that
she there
(she all that
good-ness visions sake slakes
there, above the zoo
(the zoo
the giraffe & elephant
(what?
the city & she
name, history, and stake
a stake in the world
an open hand there,
an open hand curled into the sign
for brick for sun for height for here for land
for land for this we
know: ether & the angles:
this woman this city this coincidence this apex this freedom this need
to call you in this first hour of this 27th Christmas
---
25.june.2002
-- Discord 36 --
"I am a patient boy"
"I am a patient boy"
"I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait"
"throw down your bulldog front"
"Free of suggestion"
"See me"
"Words"
"Words"
"Your hand to the wall at night"
"Tangle us, our desires"
"The water's burning"
"Right through me"
"I are one patient boy"
"until me wait for boy patient"
"moi, I wait for does not wait for"
"until me my time" "leaves to the base I"
"bulldog betrayal is quite" "bad entendement"
"why isn't my canned food free proposal base?"
"writewrite"
"to write"
"for promise"
"your hand" "writes down" "all night of you"
"our here is delivered"
"place condition confuse, look like" "see my"
"horizontal steel station"
"the box level skids"
"water, does not have the movement, does not have movement"
"toward the line"
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
March 07, 2007
from See it Everywhere
K. Lorraine Graham
This could be about all the people I’ve left and who’ve left, it’s not
about what? I’ve forgotten what it’s not about because everything feels
like it’s about everything, respect the need for delineation and
boundaries but I can never find them, only afterwards do I see an outline,
trace a ridge, note an imprint of someone on something or something on someone,
an argument about ways we might ride in a taxi and in what combinations.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
February 28, 2007
My Zombie Parents
Cheryl DeWolfe
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
February 14, 2007
In Which: A Short Novel of Ethical Pornography
Alessandro Porco
CHAPTER I – In Which Our Tale Begins, Its Heroine Enjoying a Meal
shesuCkstesticlesliketheyaremadeofblUeberrycheesecake
CHAPTER II – In Which Our Heroine Finds Herself in Peril
suddeNlyTheCocktUrNsonheraleThalpeniswhippingensues
CHAPTER III – In Which Our Heroine Hides in the Stables for Fear
laterridingreverseCowgirlsheshoUtsyoulikefuckiNgThatpussy
CHAPTER IV – In Which Our Resourceful Heroine Befriends Peter, the Stable Boy
theyfuCkedhotterthantwohornykittensinasweatsock
CHAPTER V – In Which Peter Saves Our Heroine From Her Perilous Past
hisdickswerveswithpleasUrelikeaplasticspooNonahoTdashboard
CHAPTER VI – In Which Heroine Doth Proclaim Her Undying Love
iwanttotastemyassjuiCessheexclaimsinthemiddleofavigoroUsatm
CHAPTER VII – In Which Our Heroine and Peter Live Happily Ever After
hesitsoNherTittieswithhisCockatherlipssUckmeofftheNsluT
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
Special Friend (A Zombie Haiku)
J.S. Lohr
I would keep one as a pet.
His name would be Phil.
< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
January 31, 2007
Zombie in Hollywood
Daniel Bradley
Botox and silicon stilled
Hollywood folk taste good
< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
January 24, 2007
from VDB Wordlist
Kemeny Babineau
What do you want, how much
shall I give you
sinachkoo, to exorcise the devil
to make medicine
to heal
to ignite wood
It is burning
when shall you come back
I do not know
in the spring
den soomer
den winter
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Zombie Haiku
David Durst
I give you my heart, my leg I must have you. Brains.
Everything I am
< Previous Zombie Haiku Next
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
January 17, 2007
How It Claims Us
W.B. Keckler
A piece of sea glass cutting paper
a translation of the sky into sky
the voices of children mimicking adults
mimicking a beheading
that cycled around the internet
performed in soft whispers
the first orgasm in a prison
Gravestone markers invent the rules of spelling
and birdsong distracts your executioner-to-be
someone says "it's only a moment"
clear samples try forgetting again
try me
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Zombie Haiku
Thomas L. Vaultonburg
inside my brawn
we're unstoppable
< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
January 11, 2007
Zombie Haiku
Gopal Lahiri
I search for them here and there
I'm starved though gutless
< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
January 03, 2007
Zombie Haiku, A Tradition Continues
Can't get enough brains
I search for them here and there
I'm starved though gutless
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
( in the voice of d.g.eng )
| Jason Brown "I capped this one big ass mutherfucker right in his empty eye hole." |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Zombie Haiku
| Mark Wallace feeding on a leg left by the side of the road-- the camera shudders
|
 |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
December 27, 2006
The Minutes (Pt. 2)
Alessandro Porco
Let's begin: satisfy your
maternal urge, adopt
a highway. I am a knot
in desperate need of deus
ex machina but this
ain't your daddy's Horace.
The word of the day is
not "ontology" (Nov. 20th). Jazz
hands. I saw mommy
kissing Santa Claus but
it wasn't on the mouth. Jazz
hands. #49 on my list
of 100 "must-read" books
of scholarship written by
certified Counts: Korzybski's
Introduction to Non-
Aristotelian Systems
and General Semantics.
I'm attracted to you.
Schlupp, schlupp, schlupp.
"Your lips look so de-
licious upon a tropical shore
before blizzard season."
Everyone misunderstands
the lyric. Like tulips in a pod.
On this day in history
the Anglo -licious (from
the Latin licia) is suffixed to
STD-related terms so as
to put a positive spin
on an otherwise bad situation:
herpelicious; siphylicious;
papillomalicious, clapalicious.
I'm seeing stars.
Meeting adjourned.
*
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 PM
December 20, 2006
(for a.g.)
Lauren Bender
._____
.____
.___
.__
._
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
"anchor." (for a.g.)
Lauren Bender
consider it contextualized |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
"ANCHOR!" (for a.g.)
Lauren Bender
consider it done. response assumes relation. you skips toward me. AT LAST, a tangent (etc.) a horse walks into a bar( o c nothing is hidden here. |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
"[ang-ker]" (for a.g.)
Lauren Bender
it's not a failsafe, but we could agree upon "win-win." prohibition-bauble prohibition-bauble agreed? prohibition-bauble |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
"anger" (for a.g.)
Lauren Bender
in part because disclosure breeds
nevermind no one will stumble across this
anyway i mean how many hits does this site get
anyway
this year my family asked me to bring this is all true. and in part because once recontextualized, (hello |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
"Said 'anchor.'" (for a.g.)
Lauren Bender
some cobbled we we've so gracefully... publication presumes uniqueness supposin' one don't want no trajectory? |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
December 06, 2006
from T=I=D=Y language (1)
Daniel f. Bradley
haven't changed the developing world couldn’t tell you the status so far as i can see makes life slightly better for the middleclass and allowed them
to call themselves if they don't want to call compounded class mere gender threats to return soon you will be rock you will be rolled i think it was over slices of pizza and discourse was more a meta-commentary on conspiracy social phenomenon and how it fulfills a archetype
take back your mink take back your pearls of delinquency of a minor sentence infuriating an inspired smear long-but unproven plagiarism allegations
that beach party standard mass units present inappropriate damage who won easily a formal sexuality was once shot
and not buying anything you say
i was one of those ever get the feeling your being cheated in fact just don't have anything really very flattering to say many of us are well just elitist boot sweat
sweet not just your average smut laden foot
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
from T=I=D=Y language (2)
Daniel f. Bradley
integrity is a hard show when found within the puffiness of a dull sunrise
otherwise cocky and no customers sitting at any of the tables we were starting to formulate a plan stirred our slogan
or maybe somehow the state of c'mon girl it will make your volt meter sobbing your geiger crackle maybe half the passion maybe raw
babble plume rolling the bit up my walk for bravo lap dogs blame rhetoric unshackled and left to the back bees baby
i would type awfully tacky pastoral kill thy neighbor's on the dark end o you are going to sputtered in disbelief on the dance floor
removed by the council of masters as teacher they renounced the above-noted doctrines and most others went on eventually they went on best animal on show even today such caring kitty dogs fuck
and i do so love the boys showing off my long legs in a short skirt and giving the crew view of my less twat
too sophisticated i mean what's the problem with climbing up onto a big rig and taking a big rig complaining
one really knew she had trained in techniques of self growth wars famine and persuasive language
what obscure worker disciple party for the club without any proof of the beer hall atmosphere mass
or the blue brotherhood society of the truly initiated establish contact with the green dragon of the unknown
finishing a red tail in the sunset potted with spiked heels a thigh-length blue trench coat totally impractical for rain but perfect to show off
those curves them in action
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
from T=I=D=Y language (3)
Daniel f. Bradley
just before our hot bubble walked past the open door
how when she dreamed her blue language was suspended
an indication of truthfulness became juvenilia for a sign might as well end by saying he was going to bring up the eternal stand up flame
and spiting out steps out towards a image alert after rumors examined
stepping into my bathe the phone rang hello
kangaroo courts passport practiced meditation as he fingered hundreds of noncommissioned dabble officer enlisted men who sympathized
seminars on origin of fortune by private unknown pupils grew chaotic blues order chancellor hello
i was expecting a southern drawl hint nonetheless enough stuffing about time to take the plunge read a couple sure relaxed
well lubricated and to take it in the shower knelt down to the nether regions
had some trouble actually locating any sinister thought then came some advert for family perversion
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
November 29, 2006
My Apotheosis
Chris Toll
The flying saucer lands
behind a hill.
Two Grays walk slowly
toward the manger
where Mary nurses Jesus.
One Gray carries a jigsaw puzzle
that changes the past.
The other Gray carries a mirror
that shows the future.
A woman talks on her cell phone
at the corner of Market and Money.
Bankers are frying ozone
in front of City Hall.
A detective cleans his bifocals
and releases the safety on his automatic.
Elizabeth weeps just like an American.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Strange World (I'm Too Sad)
Chris Toll
The centipedes are the size of alligators.
They circle Caa'rong, a Green Lantern.
She's a living boulder.
She has six arms.
She aims her power ring at the largest centipede.
If fur were in insufferable,
I might discover an inn in infinite
(O Deluded Dilaudid Deadfall, I can find fur in insufferable
and there will always be an inn in infinite).
Caitlin drives a junker on the interstate.
All her possessions are in the trunk.
Her hair's tied up in a pink bandanna.
Her heart left a while ago,
now her body's leaving too.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Lost Moon
Chris Toll
A skeleton invents grace,
the ocean burrows under a bed,
and a hungry lantern
delivers a mirror to a river.
Your hospital pilfers an overpass
from the knife creeping toward a kitten.
A prayer dances with dust
where summer enchants a fever.
My factory smuggles tears
into the evil castle
while a laundromat lingers on a sailboat.
++++
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
November 15, 2006
Letters to Norm: Karma Bomb
The People’s Peaceable Assembly Line
citizen declared
unlawful combatant and
interrogated
oh designate my
sweet unlawful combatant
status, chief exec!
i'm unlawful too
designate me enemy
hide me in your hole
fly me to egypt
or another client for
interrogation
give me the head bag
sensory deprivation
electroshock, norm
take candid pix, feed
me to your few bad apples;
bring forth the body!
make me, good christian kid,
american, enemy
martyr for your foe
+++++
Ed. note: Over the years, we've occassionally published copies of letters from the People's Peaceable Assembly Line to Norm. According to PPAL, Norm is the man that receives calls on the Department of Homeland Security Tips Line. This particular letter takes the form of a series of haiku. Why? I have no idea.
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
November 08, 2006
Zombie Haiku With Flowers
| Marcus Kyd lilacs on the lake lie still - still as your lucky face when I eat it |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Cats and Dogs
| Cheryl DeWolfe zombie cats and dogs cannot digest human flesh this makes them great pets |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Are We Not Men
| Diana Manister Are we not men, we lumbering, hungry, undead? | 
|
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Zombie Haiku with Blake
| Blake Shoen The warm ones shoot us Do they think they are better? Zombies make no war. |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Flesh
Ric Royer
| flesh sometimes alive in my daily existence but flesh sometimes dead |
and thx again to JL for all the great drawings this week...
<< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >>
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
November 01, 2006
Same Mesa Boogie Woogie
Garrett Caples
The usual: arrows arose on the stem of our rose and we arranged them in teams or themes or rows of sorrow. A danger in terms of a stranger meat, like salmon: pink; has eggs, intricate bones. We tried to paint flu but the results were too painful. Tore them up but knew them by rote, like a tone stretched over a telephone. I’m not speaking in terms of the rotary dial; more how to keep a lid on the knot in your throat.
Sower of thorns, show me your secret north, how short it is on painted screens. Crease this dented crown. Cover me with sores and snow. Let numbness come all over me, and tell me to snub men’s company. The result is a store of luster.
++++
"Same Mesa Boogie Woogie" appeared in that great magazine Zyzzyva and can also be found in The Garrett Caples Reader (Black Square Editions, 1999). Last but not least, it is track 15 on Surrealism's Bad Rap. Obviously it's getting around.
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
October 25, 2006
IV.
Megan McShea
spine train bleeding wisps of
the ideal derby how it's
all going on tomorrow in places
they drove through only yesterday
Sturdy breach fodder lined the
dark banks in small-boat splashings
as they failed to distract themselves
from the terrible time it takes to
tunnel through the electrified squall to the
barrier island, where was my box..?
where was Alex when I needed a...?
where were we there? out to picnic
a lake with its inevitable trees and
the clouds with their ineffable
archways, you take lips to center
you inch port clams for scuffling
you sip you bake it with sordid
smiles without me, without my
head there was smiling and singing,
my how you've changed look you're
ogling the blender, the geese have
come home and we're making our
favorite noises. We've got these
monitors hooked up to everything and
we're watching it carefully and
you know even tomorrow shows
up here even now look see it's parked
in the corner those green fields with
bright yelow blips, well, blinking
and you can tell what it's going to do.
In the pasture on Hare Street it's
incredible we're
raining
Those cycles they break you know
we're sort of free and we
think you're nice,
even if it's true what they're
saying and you
are ferocious bunnies.
++++
This is one of 5 improvisations Megan wrote at the High Zero music festival. She tells us it was written during a set of music by Dave Smolen, Rose Hammer, Alessandro Bosetti and George Lewis.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
October 18, 2006
accessories
Julie Ann Strand
fingers in a pool of pills she wonders
if canceled prescriptions should pour and
sift through plastic and hemp necklaces made
at youth group retreats old makeup powders
coating the trash bag tip trickle rain they
go the garbage can fills quickly before
the twist tie her hands fill with the pleasures
of ghostly torsos those who hid, gave, made,
swallowed, and wore one cannot remain
traumatized forever like a lost
statue cut off at elbows
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
After Issa (a zombie haiku)
Joseph Young
No! Don't blast the zombie,
losing his skin,
losing his face
---
| The hits keep coming. << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> | 
|
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
October 11, 2006
In the Newborn's Weight and Possible Death Oven
Letha Kirby
…earnest petition. We parted. I have been with him, going on four year,
that I should call you so for the last time, lighted and thronged with wild-like character.
Some little time I raged about the streets, and told myself…
P_ and all her family were full of grief at our gentleman gone abroad, she knew not where, but the young lady…
The generosity of her. What yawns and dozes I lapsed into, in spite of all my care; what light of our innocence, and vague as the stars afar off.
…that when Miss M_ took preparation of it, laid it down beside him with such great faces. His death is as blithe news as ever I got.
I’m a-going, you see, to my brothers, first, for another of compassion for her, and of jealousy of her holdings
But, on second thoughts, I shall keep him to take care of me. I began and wrote a note which dispatch to my dispatch, and his appetite to my appetite, I was the common drudge fast settling.
…seemed to form a part of his respectability…
What a remarkable scar that is upon her lip, I said.
…besides ourselves, had I not chanced upon a reference to her father.
If I felt less, I could do more. You don’t feel like me. After shaking hands, his felt like a fish. I will be liking it none the worse, you may be sure of that.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Opportunity (A Zombie Haiku)
J.S. Lohr
Flesh eating zombie,
Crawling out of the graveyard,
Please kill my girlfriend.
---
| You may remember J.S. Lohr as the official winner of the zombie haiku contest (cast on back to see). One of the thing that edged him ahead of others was the sheer volume of greatness he sent our way. We never said we were about fairness, we're about awesome. << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
October 04, 2006
Ordinarily, subject is prepared for a rendition
in fond remembrance of habeas corpus
Michael Provost
We’re given the over heavy place
shackled underpants,
the stripped shirt,
facemask, tape ears.
Cotton Finally, with a belt,
Them or They were plastic,
were headphones,
had pair.
They were, were inserted.
prevent wear, air
knee before cotton
a blue,
then Foam hooded, a belt
was earplugs of around
to surgical sound-deadening
around waist,
to presumably them, blindfolded
and strapped from length;
They absorbent and hood
together were wrapped talking.
their movement.
pair bandage over to trousers, naked:
a mouth’s handcuffed legs
to prevent hands’ overalls.
covered and hood.
The end.
inserted a pair were
and the blue length
cotton were Foam, pair a pair.
wear earplugs and a waist, to bandage
a knee, Finally, legs
covered ears. belt the mouths.
we’re shackled, sound-deadening
naked facemask, a prevent hood.
plastic strapped shirt, given over with their movement.
had them presumably over all.
tape in,
They handcuffed surgical
to their hooded, around
headphones or cotton
trousers and hands underpants,
prevent blindfold was heavy of them
then were around They wrapped,
stripped
absorbent together
before were belt being
and over hood
talking. placed
++++
Two iterations of a process that subjects an April 5, 2006 Amnesty International report on the U.S. policy of rendition to various distresses and threat of arbitrary deletions.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Got Those Zombie Blues
| Thomas L. Vaultonburg | |
| a zombie stole my 67 GTO motherfucker | |
--- | |
Mr. V_ runs a small bar in Love Park, IL called Castaways and hosts Zombie Nights on Tuesdays. I bet you can guess what the drink specials would be. And another great drawing from John Shanchuk to go with it. | |
| << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> | |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
September 27, 2006
Concordance
Raymond Hsu
How a concordance is a book that breaks down all the words of an author and lists them alphabetically, according to how many times they appear, where they appear. Shakespeare, for example, says natural x number of times. Milton says God x number of times and Satan x number of times. Imagine having your own concordance: all your words indexed. You could find out how many times you said love. Or yes. Or your name. And what it would be like to find the concordance of whom you love left by your door one day in July. And what it would be like to hide it under your bed, afraid. And how long it took to look up your own name.
++++
From Raymond's Anthropy (2004)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
September 20, 2006
Bijou
Joseph Young
We were young and poor on a late Sunday morning, down near the square. A man had set up a table with many tiny jars he'd made, arranged on a linen cloth. "Try this one," he said, and with his hand, drew a breaking wave in the air. I took it from him and, yes, through the cuts of the glass we saw a swimming fish and a flying bird and a naked woman splashing in the sea.
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
Music
Joseph Young
You gave me a box. The hinge, you said, was made of a space-age metal, completely silent. I asked, Space age? Wouldn't that have been 1955? 1968? You said, Shh, listen. I had to admit, it was indeed the most beautiful quiet. Inside the box was a foresty shadow. You said, It came from the people of the early Russian taiga. I asked, Had they yet learned to forge bronze? You shook your head and closed your eyes. There was a bell somewhere in the morning.
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
An Age-Old Story (Zombie Haiku)
| Mike Edwards | |
| Alas, had we met by last spring's willow-kissed pond. Ride the shotgun, freak! | |
--- | |
Hope you enjoy. And Rock Heals comrade John Shanchuk has started sending us some delicious zombie illustrations. OK, we begged him repeatedly for them. | |
| << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> | |
Posted by Rock Heals at 07:00 AM
September 13, 2006
Zombies Are Stupid (no. 15 of 17)
Michael Provost
15.
zombies, lacking brains,
will swallow anything whole,
and go on eating
---
| Michael Provost went all kindsa crazy and sent us a sequence of 17 zombie haiku that tell quite a story. But publish them together? The decaying corpses beneath the stairs moaned, "dismember them...DISMEMBER THEM!" << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
August 23, 2006
Thought for Today
W.B. Keckler
During the Black Death
half the world
died in a short span.
But this was a solution
to unemployment,
made landowners of serfs
and nobles, for once,
broke their own backs at fieldwork.
Universities were born
and the Renaissance
began in earnest.
Basically, all got laid
out of either grief or joy.
God retreated for a bit,
appeared only as some quotes
on a calendar.
Today, I got wasted
and watched Jerry Springer's
karmic contortionists
for about three hours.
Then I masturbated
out of contrition for these souls,
somewhat disinterestedly
I should confess.
Still, I believe
like Oprah
that God has a plan.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Dismembering TKP's Zombie Haiku
Tyler K. Peterson
We awaken now
and rise from beneath the earth
The moonlight guides us.
---
| We're butchering TKP's 4 haiku run into parts. What more would you expect from any self-respecting undead magazine? << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
August 16, 2006
The Night River Phoenix Died
CAConrad
completely stoned
i'm having sex
with a man in a diner
against the restroom door
or was it against the
door to a dream since
no man could kiss
the way
i dream
his kiss
relaxed me
till i fell asleep
his tongue inside my
mouth a good two
minutes before
he heard me snore
he didn't take it well
didn't quite believe
it was the greatest
kiss of my life
i walked thru the diner
where the customers
and waitresses
knew where i had been
River Phoenix watched me
through the hole he'd chewed
in a piece of toast
i felt him read my thoughts
of walking on my knees to him
"forget it" he said "you
want to kiss me the way
i want to kiss James Dean
the kiss the dead kiss
would only put you to sleep"
"but those are my favorite kind" i said
and he slipped his tongue
through the hole in his toast
so i walked to his table
two feet shorter
on my knees
----
from CAConrad's latest... Deviant Propulsion (soft skull press)
... and he gets his blog on, too
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
One of Half a Dozen Zombies
Mark Wallace
people waving flags
my brain’s the one on empty
eating so much death
---
| Did you really think it would all be fun and games? We're talking about the motherfucking undead, people. Rock Heals, you're cussing too much this week. It cheapens you. << Previous Zombie Haiku Next >> |  |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
August 09, 2006
Thanks to Ryan Adams
Greg Fuchs
Didn’t you just start hating rock guys
It’s like ball freaks all about their balls
In the radio buzz or weed and gin
Why don’t you just shut up and sing
Who do you think you are? Enough already
I feel like I’m writing a poem with John
Coletti, he’s at Cori’s party tonight
For Paul but we’re home drinking daiquiris
Planning tomorrow’s party for Arlo & Christa
Instead the traffic jam on Delancy
Made me laugh at the Chinese report
Then of course think of Charles’s sadness
Relating to the other rock god that drowned
In the Mississippi making the place look
Fabulous again like Charles in charge
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Friday becomes a Saturday
Greg Fuchs
Swingers pick up the falafel guy in man cleavage
Down the avenue minces the chubby queen
In his workaday-wear winking with flowers
Nausea lives all over me in the bookstore aura
Of my friends’s and rivals’s great new releases
“Fagneck,” yells a boy in my general direction
Hazy heat puts a vaguely slutty light on the corner
Barefoot in Brooklyn dorks party on through lunch
Catch-22 casts a shadow on the baby-fat bikini bosom
Nestled in the monkey grass back of baseball diamond
Mobile phone rings out one way open for suggestions
Greenmarket renews a faith in the earth
Delphinium, fennel, baby squash, sweet cherry baskets
Please don’t take my sunshine away
The Beaujolais makes her crazy in the heat
At the foot of the park the luxury homes ring
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Zombie Haiku With Crunching
Cheryl DeWolfe
crunching through his skull
I realized I didn't care
whether he loved me
---
| Can you see why it was so hard to pick a winner? So many delicious flavors of zombie haiku. At times we felt like we were trying to judge a ninja against a 4-week all-expenses-paid vacation in the tropics. How do you say one is better than the other? Cheryl sent a whole bunch that kicked ass. But she lives in Victoria, British Columbia, and perhaps jealousy got the best of us? |  |
<< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >>
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
August 02, 2006
When They Are Older They Will Pass This Place In Their Cars and It Will Seem Smaller and Boxier
Heather Rounds
Behind Hocking Valley's Rollerama the flimsy girls hunch firmly over bucket sized slurpees flavored with Absolute. They’re lined up like pigeons, curbside, and something leads one to say, "what's done is done" and they let out sleepy laughs and the sound makes its way down the alley, out into the thick fried air where a hemi engine revs and the fuzzy thumps of car speakers vibrate the June parking lot.
They are made from fathers who’d call this anything but music and mothers who just hate the noise because none of it is theirs.
The evening is turning to night and the clouds dim purple and endlessly move like wrinkles of lingerie and outside the Rollerama there are pearls and whistles falling from baggies, there are things shaken not stirred, things that dangle loose from the neck, flush as pompoms, things that tunnel up and jump off the tongue, things that unbuckle when least expected
and the slippery surface goes pounding and pounding.
Behind the girls, the exit sign of the building sluggishly blinks, green and malfunctioning and one's got a c-shaped scar on her belly and it's slipping from her shirt, one's got silver lips, the third’s scraping the curb with a quarter she's found and the fourth is flailing her arms at the sight of her boyfriend who’s just appeared out of no where--a tenuous expression under a stiff red cap. The girls rise from the curb quickly and if it wasn't for all the noise you would hear the swish of hot blood in their bodies and see the scars fly up easy as wasps.
----
Heather has a handmade chapbook out these days. Interested? Email her at:
secondbed at yahoo dot com
Posted by Rock Heals at 04:30 AM
Ugh! another zombie haiku?
Blake "Fifty Points" Shoen
My mother said "Don't bite."
That was a long time ago
Now she eats people
---
| Been a while since we've shared some of the great submissions. And with war still on our minds and TVs -- this one seemed fitting. Blake sent us a load of great ones -- thought we'd preserve his email subject line as a title for it. | |
<< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >>
Posted by Rock Heals at 04:30 AM
July 27, 2006
from St. Apples
Ken Rumble
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
July 12, 2006
Zombie Haiku: We Have a Winner!
It came in the dead of night with simple instructions: Write a zombie haiku. Send it this way. Be awesome.
And now 51 days later we've gathered over 70 entries; sifted and sorted and shared; taken smoke breaks; laughed and cried and fought; and finally settled on a winner.
But before we get there. We thank all who participated -- picking a winner was pretty much impossible so we made a last minute rule change. Everyone's a winner. In coming weeks we'll publish 'em all, doling them out to make sure they don't overwhelm other shite we publish and run off with everyone's brains. While today's winner gets a copy of Buck Downs' Pontiac Fever and random schwag, the rest will get random cool shit (think small and tscoschke-esque) -- and we'll announce what those things are with each new publishing.
Cuz really, we really enjoyed what we got and want to share that love.
And now onto the winner -- J.S. Lohr's aptly titled Zombie Haiku...
And we thank Buck Downs, Justin Sirois, and all of Narrow House Recordings for sponsoring our prize and telling us to come up with a cool-ass contest in the first place.
adorable zombie plushie from nopunchbacks
---
And P.S. check out tracks and more info on Buck Downs' Pontiac Fire over here.
Posted by Rock Heals at 09:00 AM
The Winning Zombie Haiku
J.S. Lohr
I don't mind the brains
or that rotting meat smell... but
fuck all this walking
---
| J.S. Lohr's excellent Haiku is the official winner of our 2006 Zombie Haiku contest and the proud new owner of the grand prize Pontiac Fire CD from Buck Downs and Narrow House Recordings. Listen to samples from the CD | |
<< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >>
Posted by Rock Heals at 09:00 AM
July 05, 2006
Trans-Galactic
Jason Wilkinson
my spaceship crashed
now what do I do maybe
I'll start a religion
have them
traipsing around on all fours
looking for me
under stones
ruined buildings
;give them stupid hats to wear
that never fit attractively
I'll tell them that
they are not animals that
they are BETTER that
a capitalist hierarchy is marvelous
because everyone is so full of charity
be advised:
fucking and sucking
are way too enjoyable (you need a
degree of separation between
master servant, don't you?)
-not till Heaven till
the bombs drag this little outhouse away
into vibrating strings
cracked eyes/bikini tops
petticoats till the sky is rouge certainly
anything named Babel was
ripe to fall
like Hitler and Mondale
Thalidomide and Free Speech
I'll prophesize Armageddon then
hand them the tools to achieve it
desert into glass rip out the page and
take it from the top!
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 PM
June 14, 2006
The War is Unwinnable (an excerpt)
Tom Orange
He talks about his realization that the war was unwinnable, about a private memo to the president, about whether he resigned or the president fired him
He used the “CBS Evening News” as a bully pulpit, particularly when he said in the 1960s that the Vietnam War was unwinnable.
Iraq has not had - and may never have - its moment when a news anchor travels to Iraq to inspect the situation and pronounces the war unwinnable.
But at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, gray-haired men and women in floppy boonie hats and faded green battle fatigues worried aloud that a new generation of veterans is being forged in a war as unwinnable as their own
For its part, the Sudanese government saw the war was unwinnable and wanted US sanctions lifted
They destroyed Britain’s air of invincibility and convinced many British leaders that the war was unwinnable
There was little he could do to convince the president that the war was unwinnable
Calling for the Defense Secretary’s resignation is as bad a signal as saying the war is unwinnable
To say this morning, while our troops are under enemy fire, while American blood is flowing on the battlefield, that this war is unwinnable is an insult to every man and woman who has ever fought and sacrificed under the flag of this nation
The Congressman, a former marine and staunch supporter of the Pentagon, caused consternation when he said last week that the war was unwinnable without a large injection of troops and more international help, neither of which are seen as attainable at present
Political fashion in Washington holds that the war is unwinnable
It was more a sense that the war was unwinnable and not being won and not worth the price
Some members of Congress -- either out of a passion to defeat the president, pique at not being listened to by his administration, or simply a need to hear their own voices -- are declaring the war “unwinnable” or “a quagmire,” or are demanding an “exit strategy”
The candidate has been wise to shun the advice of those telling him to detail an exit plan and to say the war is unwinnable
The author said that by early 1972, if not before, the administration had concluded the war was unwinnable
No amount of valor or heroism can conceal the fact that they were sent off under false pretenses to fight a war that is unwinnable
U.S. and Iraqi casualties continue to mount in a war that is unwinnable -- politically, if not militarily
This stupid, ill-conceived and unnecessary war is unwinnable and wrong, and it must end
Posted by Rock Heals at 05:00 AM
June 07, 2006
Zombie Haiku Contest: Second Wave
Unghlluhngfuuuhhngn-
grhhhhicckherrrmnglzli
(Chomp)mfggg...huuuuuuuqhhh
Tawrin Baker
Zombie guinea pig,
Even with that lust for flesh…
Still pretty damn cute.
J.S. Lohr
Dear Diary
Today makes one month.
I can see in the dark now.
Sunshine hurts my flesh.
Julie Fisher
---
We're all about the diversity right now. And so another fine back of entries to the Zombie Haiku Contest.
Keep 'em coming -- we're taking entries until June 30. Enter as often as you'd like. submit at rockheals dot com Remember the winner gets copy of Buck Downs' excellent Pontiac Fever. | |
<< Previous Zombie Haiku Next >>
Posted by Rock Heals at 02:00 AM
May 31, 2006
Zombie Haiku Contest Update: First Wave
| |
Here's the first sampling of entries to the Zombie Haiku Contest. We're accepting entries until June 30, so get yours in. Get many in. Enter as often as you'd like. submit at rockheals dot com Remember the winner gets copy of Buck Downs' excellent Pontiac Fever -- though we might have to come up with more prizes cuz we've been getting a whole lotta awesome.
stumbling down the street
moonlight reflects off puddles
where is my left arm?
Jason Sweeney
Morose and lurching
Clawing at my front window
Zombies will EAT ME
jen
The warm ones shoot us
Do they think they are better?
Zombies make no war.
Blake "Zombie chow" Shoen
| Don't be fooled, there are also plenty of good ones about killing zombies, loving zombies, and making zombies. Come on. All the kids are doing it. submit at rockheals dot com You, too, can be the wind beneath our wings. | |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
May 24, 2006
NOTE: SOMETHING TO TELL THE ANALYST
W.B. Keckler
Last night I dreamt
my ex was preparing a massive trip
to Spain, flying
all his family across the Ocean.
We haven’t spoken in years.
If I told him this dream
( to test the filaments
of my psychic web)
he would go deeply in debt
just to make it real,
just to irritate me.
That’s the sort of person he is.
If he went to Spain,
he would probably die
there, in my dream-trap.
That’s the sort of person I am.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
May 17, 2006
Brother Frederick, 1988...
Ric Royer
Brotherhood of men
in leather, we protect our brood.
Our role in the animal kingdom
is defined by the pendulous way
we approach our mate.
We secretly dig it, this
uncomfortable sleep.
We are not built like men, nor do we have gigantic tits.
---------
originally appeared in Leather A, by Ric Royer (Ferrum Wheel Press, Buffalo, 2003)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
May 10, 2006
Enemy Fireworks
Donald Illich
A skull-shaped balloon rises over the village,
its skeleton string trailing close behind it.
The townspeople aren’t sure what they should do:
all the god slots have been filled by sports stars,
magnetic actresses, and the bitter politicians
who hand out the world but are empty inside it.
Shooting at the dirigible with special rockets,
sprinkling blue phantoms of destruction &
pushing the remains one more step toward ghost,
is considered but abandoned as too pricey.
Bombs need to be saved for enemy fireworks,
their dead are not appointed without them.
Meanwhile, the floating head expels cold air
circulating sleet over building and statues,
returning water to the earth to be defeated
by gravity, a mischievous boy digging canyons,
& thirst, sucking everything through a straw.
The bones start falling, scientists are unhappy.
They pronounce the true origins of the species
have nothing to do with childhood spirits,
make believe people release with tooth fairies,
magic bodies stored in the toy chest, let go.
Nonetheless, villagers feel objects above them.
Pins, no matter how sharp, can’t pop their skins.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
April 26, 2006
xxxii
Mike Grau
Little books walk the street
in unison, looking for a small piece
budding violent and crimson for morning
over the corner of Broadway and Beirut
older, colder and thirty years too late
mouthing the words as the bathtub upstairs
overflows and burns with dirt and beer
waiting we and me for Henry
with two loose teeth and a pale black canvas
as little books whisper all over town
pieces of goodnight, walking towards
some broad and far off place
under a dessert moonrise
so clear and dark and quiet and sleeping
(from a longer series of sonnets called Trade)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
xxiii
Mike Grau
St Henry St Henry who else saved you save mother?
de world de world its feeding girls
today, three weeks from today, that’s how it will happen
or at least how problems solve themselves
hold down poses for one more song, moments before
washing your feet in bleach, jelly-bodied
beneath the trading shadows
forever eight thirty-nine, forever eighty-nine
where Truman, Edison and Lenin once lived
If you forgive me politically, my dear
writing a land where corn don’t grow
felt by the hair above
your skin standing. Otherwise press zero now
Record at the tone
(from a longer series of poems called Trade)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
viii
Mike Grau
The stars people don't you see
along the streets and water everyday?
never seen the blueprint, although
cities don't melt when the grass is dry
and to think the cigarette butt I gave him
Work.
Henry and John are comic hero action books
made to work for love of
eighty-nine screaming
It's supposed to be beautiful
the steamer to the island
is suggestive, a part of Havana
to do whatever it’s supposed to
including the essence of a photograph
(from a longer series of sonnets called Trade)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
April 19, 2006
The Greatest and Most Important of Dinosaur Movies
K. Silem Mohammad
1969 seemed to be disturbed stuff
about cruel twin governesses
dropped off the face of the fetal houseboat
reading Elmer Fudd pornography
the horrible oblong length
of the sidelong baby butterfingers barrel
Kate is a neglected housewife who likes to cook bank robbers
and has a fetish for brushfire cryptography
which indeed if there is a fetish
opens avenues of detachment from materialism
for great bands like Black Flag, Hüsker Dü,
or Danielle Steele’s Bucket Wolves
I keep this account for radical politics
concerning sixteen ferryboat comparisons
quite content to be made seventeenth
as fur-loving commodore elks surround Baghdad
things any Connecticut housewife
would think in December
Get a print version (PDF)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Dirty
K. Silem Mohammad
if you could have any animal for a pet
what would it be
free kitten nice free kitten nice meaty pig
I said whaaat
Pennsylvania rules here in the world of crap
one lady I know her name I just can’t think of it right now
holds up violent chainsaw w/ fur
stabbed her mystery meat with a nametag
whaaaaaaa whack bash blaaaaaaaaah
expunge flange hinge impinge
quote are you wearing clothes muwhaha
start stabbing yrself hahaha Nike commercial
the word un-American
futuristic & modern
hardly achieving the abstract growing pathology
of the aesthetic vibe
& add some hard shit to it
especially the form of music known as liver tractors
bureaucratic satellite photographs of disco
heralded as the end of society
wow there is no February
I should go sit out in the rain for a week
munching the pokiness
as I have constant urges
KGB sponge bath don’t mind if I do
I am pretty dirty all right & aww man
I am 59% emo my socks don’t match what’s the point
with this freaky intense politically-motivated Africa yearbook
conservative locksmithing gots nothing on me
fond memories of my “pants”
forgive & forget folks
get useless kids
get up pig
Get a print version (PDF)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Land of Oh Boy
K. Silem Mohammad
what follows is made up
the locals call it “Land of Oh Boy”
Saturday morning, fixing bacon, watching cartoons
a brain-damaged veteran looked at the boy pirates burying a treasure
he can’t book a picture of obese clouds
the buzzy li’l Buckaroo cowboy was a white boy, obviously
it was all he could do to snort out the invading park chief
bouncing around on the Appalachian Trail
eep opp ork means don’t just dress up like the man
you were born with the ability to use language
babies do it by the way they cry down here
I notice a flash of the puny runt really shoots like a big boy
Duran Duran strife about the handsome land down under
if they give little boy guns to soldiers
for the war cries of a little helmet
insubstantial disturbed hard diving faces
cars, their drivers invisible, bringing robotic insecticide to earth
to measure a pipe and bathe in the rebuilt prime all day
the engine is a cooled four girl who didn’t do the walk
you kiss me, why oh why baby, cheap Lamaze grip-and-grab
why oh why child, tropical squeeze, until recently it’s very integrated
it was going to be bad, did we not only that
don’t clit like she was playing on groin
the smallest mammal is the bat of pig
the artists among you are right
I am a foolish glass of granite
I like sex or dishwashing
I like to have Pop Idol 2 UK
and Benedict Lust on my PC
with Juggy Vanessa Kay
or Holly Valance Down Boy
video on my PC at work
gala
let a boy cry gala
Get a print version (PDF)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
April 12, 2006
OMG I LOST MY VIRGINITY
Anonymous (folk traditional)
> 10 times.
because u just opened this u will have the BEST LUCK this week.
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
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and the week after
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and the week after
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and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and the week after
and then it iz all gone!!!!
ur gonna get a gf-bf
ur gonna get an A on all ur tests
ur gonna get 20 new friends
ur gonna fall in love
BUT u have to repost this bulletin with the name
"I'm Naked"
"NUDE PICS"
"Goldigger"
"We broke up!"
"my girl is pregnant"
"im 10 wks pregnant"
"i lost my virginity"
"im bi"
"We're breaking up"
"I need her bad"
"she ate me out!"
"i ate my gurl out"'
"Im getting married"
"I NEED A GIRL"
"I HATE HIM!!!!"
"I LUV HIM!!!"
"FUCK YOU!"
"I MISS HIM"
"I MISS HER
"yeah i cried"
"wanna have sex?"
[Ed note: Received this as a bulletin on MySpace from Lauren Bender. She claims to not have written it. This thing is gorgeous and perfect.]
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
April 05, 2006
Dances
Ric Royer
Do…
The Move
Feet trod upon heated plowshares.
Dance motherfucker.
The Hoody
Put a bag over your head.
Use the bag as an agent of release,
not as punishment or imprisonment.
Perform random gestures of freedom.
The Libido
Break things and laugh
marvelously while doing it.
The Spaz
Paroxysms of death transformed
into choreographic display.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Adventures of A Ten Minute Play
Ric Royer
Prologue
Have slicked back hair.
The Lovers Meet
Fleur Immortelle and the Foxy Daughter.
The question will always be asked: what was that inside of her?
The answer will always follow: I think jelly.
Tragedy Occurs in Real Time
The protagonist puts on sweater after sweater
until unable to move.
“Allow yourself to be smitten by the delicacy of a fabric.
Why complain only to fall prey to pain or pleasure?”
Death, Trump and Drum!
The Comedic Resurrection
The new brain doesn’t fit inside his or her old head.
But the hero is paraded around the stage and streets
regardless and without
regard.
The Lovers Find Some Time to Hang Out
Orbs in silhouette.
Fela Kuti.
The Audience Applauds
Hand out gold and expensive jewels to the audience.
Ask them not to clap during the curtain call,
but to throw the gold and jewels at the performers
as hard as possible.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
March 29, 2006
Snapshots At Ten
Rupert Wondolowski
Father has been finding: cabbage patch dolls, their
heads lanced by #2 Eberhard pencils; a helmet-sized
fishbowl filled with grape Kool-Aid, five tender
bellies floating in the purple; a ceiling of hanged
Barbies, gray shoelaces snug around their slender
necks.
Father asked: "When you do these things are you doing
them to me?"
She said: "These are things I do."
Father found her in the kitchen, sitting in the dark,
drinking a beer.
She said: "I'll take the punishment, I like the taste
of this beer."
Father thinks: I never wanted to be this old.
 Thx L.B. |  Bonus not from L.B. |
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
March 22, 2006
from sleep, number
Justin Sirois
[Ed note -- This is the first section of a larger interactive work. Follow the link at the end to dive into the rest.]
I.
most of your life
opportunities have come to you like automatic doors, butterflied panes of transformative glass that open towards the shopper, not into the vending space of vacant blazer sleeves & distressed Diesel. These portals leave your knees creaking like cracker barrels as they truncate the ankles decimals, dividing long against shaved shins that strut above the hem & carry mechanized women through floors of shoes
opportunities have come & gone
but there’s volumes of dough stacked between your rafters, books of cold hard capital in the shelves of your armpits, rows & rows of sorrowful dollars that are untapped, un-drilled, un-understood. We’re ready to let you access that hidden ore, a smiling grill of ice set in white gold, a spinning wheel or loaded dice rolling out of control. Her sleep number is different from my sleep number, her abacus snore rocks the house to sleep, peels the dream genie off her cartridge, nestles into card stocks & high thread counts. I toss
turn when the market is in weekend recess, I’m a fifty, she’s an eighty something. No, she’s a seventy five. Our speculation, the chicken little of it, rests on the cushion of a robust economy & steadily increasing GDP that avoids a sharp pin of
pitching oil prices during the peek energy months
a spiral of incendiary inflation
rising interest rates coupled with an impending real estate bubble
bear market woes
an impending recession, a dry river
& by river I mean something other than what it meant before, a flowing current running back to its source. I’ll wake in a night terror, shivering next to my husband with the windows like open refrigerators & my purse groans like a kristpy kremed kidney. Are we only miles away from sailing off the edge of the world? We worry about such trends too
(she whispers)
I believe you
continue @ pixelplus >
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
February 15, 2006
(You’re a) Billion Dollar Algorithm (between my) Legs
Jamie Gaughran-Perez
for Sweetney... This is what a love poem (sometimes) looks like at the G-P household. The formatting mandates the PDF, sorry y'all.
Don't worry it starts with "Godzilla." What could go wrong?
See it. Read it. Enjoy. (PDF)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
February 01, 2006
labia minora
Miriam Stewart
baila, mi amor
mail an oral marimba bomb
alarm! ram in a liminal limb
I’ll abandon normal brain
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
where are we in this poem?
Miriam Stewart
a quizzical sadness
that can ask the question of the sun
what is behind that last house?
where does this street
that I have driven down
my whole life
where does it lead?
and like the sun
you might diagnose the day by its response
a given hour to sit here or there
a piece of fantasy in which Eden
harbors two clauses of a definition
in which meaning hovers like a water bug
without breaking the current
I might posit the following:
armageddon. there might only be one piece of bread
left. or in the summer, when the days are hot
but only getting shorter, there might be
an uninhabited porch swing.
when you put pen to paper to write your name
you may instead be compelled
to draw a picture of a clock with no hands.
where, again, is this going?
across the street from the market
I saw a bird, dead on the sidewalk,
its feet curled stiffly around the lost branch
I think I am trying to tell you
why I can only point
away from what I love
I think I’m trying to say that I would send the authorities to your house
and sneak out the back door
hugging the stolen child to my chest
or just to tell you, by way of escape,
that the man on the corner who has no home
is holding his pants up with his thumbs
and singing “Holy, holy, holy” and “Mary, don’t you weep”
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
January 25, 2006
Goat
Leslie F. Miller
Goat.
Goat.
You could be a child's first word,
easy as dog, dada.
Goat.
Poor man's lawn boy,
frisky pet,
reason to take the rolls
we never eat.
On the way home from lunch
with daddy
I pick you for your looks,
black and white,
feed you bread
through chicken wire,
whisper secrets
over steady traffic hum.
Goat,
I can't afford my shoes.
Squishing my toes in the mud
didn't feel as good as it should have.
Being filthy rich would be nice.
I have lost my way.
I once loved a goat like you.
Took him home.
Named him Goat.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
labor day
Leslie F. Miller
a rat will rearrange things:
loaf of bread
now by the back door,
candlesticks tipped over,
cupcake in the sink.
and you—
you are in a soft chair
counting the spaces between pains
while it cowers behind the washer.
we’ll get him later you call
lovingly between contractions,
your husband on his knees
with a knife,
spurting words, muttering.
he has hacked off a pink foot.
blood on the linoleum
for you to clean later.
he has stabbed it dead,
kitchen chairs in disarray,
washer pulled away from the wall.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
January 18, 2006
Npurrrrrrrr
(a friend poem inspired by Frank O’Hara and the friend)
Marianne Amoss
Oh lord it’s noon
We’re just showering, just slithering
Out of bed and calling you
Bringing eggs, bringing coffee
Coconut pinky cat and fat old black man
Slide around under cabinets
We cuddle on borrowed bed
Chew on grounds and kiss our hands
You are warm like the buildings
You are like the buildings standing up straight
You are standing up straight
It is early afternoon Sunday
Afternoon in here I want you to know
That radio is the best sunlight
Plants are good electric blankets
As your pretty paintings pet you
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Poetry Reading, January 20 (Baltimore)
i.e. reading series presents
Catherine Daly, Jessica Smith & Moira Egan
Friday, January 20, 2006
7pm
Note the venue (not the regular i.e. reading series space):
AREA 405 Gallery
405 East Oliver Street
Baltimore, MD 21202
(410)-528-2101
info at area405 dot com
Catherine Daly is a poet & critic who has been publishing & reading her work for twenty years - Her works include DaDaDa (Salt Publishing, 2003), Locket (Tupelo Press, 2005), the eBook Secret Kitty (Ahadada Press, 2005) as well as numerous pamphlets & electronic chapbooks.
Jessica Smith founded the poetry magazine name in Buffalo, NY- & has written a chapbook titled birdbook. She has recently completed a manuscript Organic Furniture Cellar.
Moira Egan's first book of poems, Cleave (WWPH, 2004) was nominated for the National Book Award. Recent poems have appeared in Gargoyle, Notre Dame Review, Passages North, Poems & Plays, Poetry, Prairie Schooner, Smartish Pace, 32 Poems, West Branch & many others- [phew!]
For futher information contact-
Michael Ball
mbball at verizon dot net
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
January 04, 2006
The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Inventions
Chris Toll
1.
The laboratory in the flying saucer
is so bright and sterile.
The werewolf can’t find a place to hide.
He crouches beside the circular hatch.
Soon the floor will be awash in purple ichor.
His captors are about to learn
just how wrong things can go
when a full moon rides the night sky.
2.
The Special Agent has lost so much.
She holds a flashlight and a 9 mm pistol
and kicks a door open.
She wishes she could pray to God –
but all she believes in
is what she can capture in her beam of light.
3.
The ninjas glide through the corridors of a starship.
The pilot turns
and finds her head ringed by the tips of seven swords.
The starship lands in a clearing.
The ninjas slip out of the airlock
and enter the forest.
The trees have red bark and purple leaves.
Each leaf has a mouth and howls at the five moons.
4.
I’m the clouds drifting over your roof.
I’m the traffic streaming past your windows.
I’m the floorboards creaking beneath your shoes.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:40 AM
Lock And Load Blues
Chris Toll
A half-full baby bottle rolls around
on the floor of a bus.
A mother puts on body armor.
Why is a den in hidden?
Why is light in flight?
A son hides an IED
inside the rim of a discarded tire.
God is almost Good
and the Devil is almost Evil.
A father eats steak off a china plate.
I have five hearts –
three are on fire, two are broken, and three have wings.
Your heart is a book – be kind.
A daughter comes home in a bodybag.
The blizzard needs to find a new line of work.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:30 AM
Tears Made Flesh
Chris Toll
Perpetual melancholy
employs chaos processors
to bemadden the zoo
where a zebra inveigles a gazelle.
The tactician loses her barrette
and the theoretician adores her angora beret.
A spider knits a sparrow
while an exorcist excoriates the truculent fossil.
A drugstore loiters in the apathy epidemic.
A bartender mollifies the careworn pornographer
and an eavesdropper nullifies the carefree doctor.
The despondent castle goes on a crusade
to consecrate the wind
before a grammarian captivates handcuffs.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:20 AM
December 14, 2005
...
Lauren Bender
of course I can look like a young boy
dear political poem,
I never really got into history
Mine eyes watching a man blow himself up
as you say,
a field full of shoes between us
a revolving bookcase between us
his flesh slides down the front of the TV, obscuring Janet Jackson’s sunbursting forth
in some less civilized countries the dead are dismembered by their family
left vulgar to vultures or was it all a mirage?
I would make a good soldier
please find enclosed my scores from Minesweeper,
which would be higher if I didn’t have to
cover my windows all day long
and then go to the factory
Dear ARMY, please send 8 x 10 to my 5-year old
her first sexual fantasy involved neon TRON and empathy between men
let’s just make light of it
he’ll just have to start spinning a little earlier tomorrow
let’s just gesture it down under the motion sensor
photons between us
inappropriate gnashing of teeth between us
+++
from Who's That Kickin' Yr Ass (rhp002)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
from Extratutionalized
Buck Downs
tidal has-been
getting ready
to have been fired
all night like that,
a particle in the motion
20-to-life style and everybody
got their little brief to file
as motion impedes action
like I couldn’t tell
my judgement
was impaired.
I am ready
body snatcher
let me go
put me down
on my feet
there were gaps
in my signifiers
but I negotiated
them.
I played a stupid
game. and I won.
how stupid is that.
+++
from Who's That Kickin' Yr Ass (rhp002)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
December 13, 2005
(she’s my) Little Q’n’A
Buck Downs
she’s my little Q’n’A
bumping into
an invisible
door-frame
I say, on a non
existentent
bender fall forwards
as long as you’re falling
that’s where I start to find out
over the counter and
straight from the heart
mad to quit that mad shit and shit
previously improvised fate
I still call it a free-jazz
train wreck
but in a tender
and loving way!
+++
from Who's That Kickin' Yr Ass? (rhp002)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
George Bush wakes up in a different world ever day
(or) George Bush needs our love
Jamie Gaughran-Perez
George Bush wakes up every morning asking what he can do today for Saudi Arabia.
George Bush dresses the part of a physical, masculine and anti-intellectual he-man
George Bush brushes off his once-again fading poll ratings with another bout of name calling.
George Bush eats kittens, and more political facts
George Bush walks across the flight line at Kirtland Air Force Base on his way.
George Bush stops to shake hands with members of the Air Force’s Fighting 55th in Omaha, Nebraska,
George Bush stops the State Department from giving grants to international groups that provide abortion-related counseling,
George Bush stops and pauses for dramatic effect
George Bush Wonders How He Did It.
George Bush wonders when the funny stuff starts
George Bush asks us to get the flu for the good of the country, just like he will.
George Bush continues on this path of destruction
George Bush finds himself on the horns of a dilemma
George Bush breathes about 90 litres of air every 2 minutes.
George Bush Thinks Magic Johnson Smells Like Onions
George Bush squints at the river and replies “but I don’t see any bridge”
George Bush swings for the fences.
George Bush Runs Risk in Staking All on Terror War
George Bush tells Vladimir Putin about his vision of peace consolidation over the phone
George Bush Tells the UN: “Fuck You!”
George Bush tells the real story of George Bush’s conversion to evangelical Christianity
George Bush gets on TV and starts yapping about Social Security and Imminent disaster
George Bush eats assholes of Saudi Arabians
George Bush eats Hitler’s poop
George Bush eats children
George Bush wipes his face at rally in a hot and humid Florida
George Bush realizes that he has the blood of innocent insects on his hands, and that stuff usually doesn’t smell too good
George Bush needs a potty break.
George Bush needs a Technology Czar.
George Bush needs a more intimate relationship with the Truth, bless his heart.
George Bush wakes up every morning and says “Today I’m going to do something.”
+++
from Who's That Kickin' Yr Ass (rhp002)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
November 30, 2005
Saturday (12/3): Reading in Baltimore
the i.e. reading series presents:
Lauren Bender + Buck Downs + Jamie Gaughran-Perez
reading / kissing in a tree
Saturday, December 3; 4pm
Clayton & Co. Fine Books
317 N. Charles Street
Baltimore, MD
(410) 752-6800
[flyer image is a detail from a painting by Lauren -- Diptych -- that completely rocks]
Posted by Rock Heals at 06:00 AM
November 02, 2005
Bell: A Poem
Justin Sirois
Click to launch the poem and then start clicking around from there.
Gotta click "turn on links" first...
You'll have to Back your way to get to Rock Heals when yr done.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:30 AM
Reading @ DCAC, Nov. 20
Get over to DCAC (on 18th Street just below Columbia, Wash. DC) and check out the latest in the in your ear reading series.
To get a sense of what your getting into...
A free chapbook from Barbara Cole;
Sound works from Kristin Gallagher; and
Some pomes from Lauren Bender.
Find out more about the series and a few other great DC ones over at DCPoetry.com (and you can sign up for a notifications mailing list, too).
(Thanks for sending the links along, Lauren)
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:10 AM
October 26, 2005
Math-Rock-Scissors
Lauren Bender
etch-a-sketch
cloud ledger says winter, brothers grew beards and then shaved them
no more shall we speak his name
when you're on you're fucking on
and one thing's for certain
the righting was left on the wall with a brontosaurus
cat calls to the mourning dove
sheets for curtains
we just love those red rooms
she said, "equation"
undershirt sans pants
just like that, your penis, unassuming
just like that, your eyes, back in your head
finger up another’s nostril
still life with man in buttondown shirt
locks his feet under the radiator for sit-ups,
hungover
circle gets the square in first-person football
Ravi Shankar gets the overdub
you bet she fucks like a racehorse
after waking to gospel
on this beautiful sunday morning
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
Lie to me, Pinocchio, harder. (for a.c.)
Lauren Bender
Knees. And on the diner stool the black pants the pants the only ever seen you wear. This screen/play (flim) flicker, dark living room, first division in the summer villa, finding blood in the evening long nap. Thought a softball on steps awake but slightly. Mediterranean discussion, the cohorts, the girls to ask identity, she ended up in Italy, pregnantly engaged. Hungary. Colorado. Hungry. Hold the elbow. Stories to tell down the sordid road, scratching post for speakers, roll of quarters for your thoughts. This place that quiets the evening and in the evening, to be anaesthetized, he was afraid, the teeth extracted, one for every season, one for quarters, the roll of quarters, the sticky bun, the killer biscuits, I’ve been shot with an urban legend, I’ve been nose-broken by a gerbil in flames.
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:00 AM
October 04, 2005
from Some Epistles
K. Lorraine Graham
Posted by Rock Heals at 12:20 AM
September 21, 2005
"with short wings"
Lauren Bender
with short wings
harden
harden
an upward slope
to embrace
to hold
comfortably
to make
suitable
to settle
something
Posted by Rock Heals at 08:40 AM
WOMEN SEEKING
Lauren Bender
Shoe, beautiful, highly educated lady,
ALL very ill, full-figured,
Whenever She’s up to it.
Extremely small 900 pound loner,
With hiney in her hands till the end.
Sick kitty, plus-size, imagining
Black latex, fishnet stockings, and
Stiletto pumps!
Whips, chains and handcuffs!
Fine dining, travel and the upscale lifestyle.
Full-figure cook out with ME & Cancer,
Thick brown feet BM, with
Don’t be shy! Drop me a line!
Role-playing freckled chest, who wants it
All.
ORAL SEX ON THE BEACH
In ocean city and Bethany.
Oral fantasy on the beach,
Under moonlights.
Me? Call me, I’m waiting.
ME? Bottom, hirsute, shaved head,
& SPANKING
bubble buts, spanking My
really sweet, nice looking, sweet, understanding
me? REQUEST BACKUP.
Love, affection and endowment.
And French cultures.
Me? Set up the firm hand.
Horny, sexy, I’m in search of TV.
I’m very honest.
Love to wear short skirts for fun.
STOP BY WITH SUIT AND TIE.
Mr. Mom needs oral favors.
Tall, dark and handsome,
Hope you’re out there.
MUTUAL PLEASURE SEEKER
Who has his own SILKY THINGS,
Own DAYTIME LOVER,
HOT AND READY.
Hot movies, and healthy, and
Swimmer’s build, vasectomy-safe,
Household help.
HANDYMAN, handyman,
Help[s] out who he can,
Where he can.
PART-TIME slave-girl,
Part-time female slave.
Why I should accept you,
Hairy-chested bubble baths,
MALE EXHIBITIONISTS?
HARTFORD COUNTY handsome,
(minus plus),
naked, bound, gagged, sucking, kissing,
BACKDOOR body rubs and clean TV.
Short skirts and high heels, thigh-high
Special mind.
ME? Free.
Me? Orally.
Me? Overweight weirdo.
BACKDOOR average.
YOU
You
You
DO YOU LIKE GIVING HEAD?
CREAM LOVER?
PANTYHOSE BOTTOM?
MY HEAD would like some head.
NYLONS nylons. Your place.
SOMEONE HELP ME.
If you think you can help me,
Please call me.
Please be at least not an issue,
Watching videos, sitting around
Getting to know each other.
Let my big tool meet your big tool.
If you’re on the road like me,
I am a man and I love REALLY, REALLY GAY!!
Are you really, really gay? I am!!
Flaming homosexual!
Me?
Like,
you be the top, let me be the bottom.
Like,
just be down for whatever.
WE ARE educated.
LET’S PARTY.
Be very wild!
Fun & kinky!
Be into threesomes!
Posted by Rock Heals at 08:20 AM
"edge of a person less intimate"
Lauren Bender
edge of a person less intimate
a person who knows
acquiescing without protest
but sometimes takes to
her parents’ wishes
proficiency in math
AIDS
the act something grasping
free from duty
measurement
land in acres
caustic in language
skilled in
feats of agility
walk on tiptoe