Jack D. Harvey… Daughters of Anomaly

 
Daughters of Anomaly
       for Traci Lords
 
All the cock-sucking,
all the cunt-lapping,
all the butt-fucking
in the world
can’t forge a bond
that lasts beyond
the bounds of flesh and boredom;
time, a river with
Charon waiting
patient as Job,
shuttling busy
as a bee
from bank to bank
 
carries us all.
 
Thrice holy,
over the shivering waves,
the sauce of life
sets all aflame,
spurts all over the place;
Traci rears up
pretty and weary,
her face not safe
nor her backside either.
Apollo, bright
as the day is long,
casts his shadow,
on bush and brake
and then departs,
serene and singing,
the lyre pinging
like sonar.
Traci gapes,
her comb drips honey;
pendent the homunculus
in her hand’s saving grace.
 
Evening.
The god of the sun,
red as a rose,
makes off
with Venus roving
ahead and behind;
scary night falls
like a ton of coal.
 
Holy cow!
All the tits and ass
in movie bedrooms,
all the hired roosters,
loveless and uplifting,
not more foolish
than the knights of
Parsifal, than
Parsifal himself,
spent and sinning.
 
Daughters of Anomaly,
pierced through and through,
make me pay
like Faust;
between the lines
the lamp stinks still.
 
Traci was
cute as a button,
rode like a queen,
and was ridden;
Christy was
sweet and thick
as marmalade.
What do they do
to make us make
them live and live
in the memory
like caryatids
standing in a row?
Something.
That touch of
easy abundance,
ripe and serene
as the lazy summer sea.
 
Daughters of Anomaly,
let me give you,
each of you,
lauds, metaphors,
words lost in time
and space.
Naughty naked girls,
straight out I say
I love you truly;
forget the lines
the limbs
we never knew.
 
Daughters of Anomaly,
anomalous, anarchic,
my treasures, hunted forever,
all the cavorting and bumping,
all the laws of life
and death,
the brave remarks at
gunpoint,
can’t make us forget
it’s only skin in
the flickering fucking game
that comes and goes
before the lens,
meaningless,
without terror,
without love,
without us thinking it’s
error this human act
doesn’t support
the innocent flowers
and daughters,
Horus’ penetration of
the beauty beneath.
 
Mary, Astarte,
maiden of the moon,
crown of flowers
come for me!
 
Daughters of Anomaly,
get close to me! Or close enough.
Asphodel, wine and
sleep please;
sleep without end.
Time, ladies,
dull as dishwater,
is up,
praise is done,
your patient labors dismissed.
 

Jack D. Harvey’s poetry has appeared in Scrivener, Mind In Motion, Slow Dancer, The Antioch Review, Bay Area Poets’ Coalition, The University of Texas Review, The Beloit Poetry Journal, The Piedmont Journal of Poetry and a number of other on-line and in print poetry magazines over the years, many of which are probably kaput by now, given the high mortality rate of poetry magazines.

The author has been writing poetry since he was sixteen and lives in a small town near Albany, N.Y. He was born and worked in upstate New York. He is retired from doing whatever he was doing before he retired. He once owned a cat that could whistle Sweet Adeline, use a knife and fork and killed a postman.

Copyright © 2016 by Jack D. Harvey

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Timaeus Lavrov… Thomas Zinniger, “things I’ll never say.”

 
 

Thomas Zinniger

seedless Kyotonian flagellum Novergrove Trinidad horosceticism stullar blithe myelin Arkansas ascertizing the manscaper brainless pube on Draka rovering the antithesis zenith sempiternal cena that pixelated in tusk mex and swine flu apricot cheeky red wines oooing electrohanukkah to gabriel hemoglobin surpleen pool fountains of Bastillian Masma
 
and abelian GNU Zumbas ignoramus its signifying temporicity chronesthesia perfect clockwork mechanism Descartian vertical motion casts of zaichik shigella
entirely
filled with
ellipsimical gedankensteine allo
 
seedless Kyotonian flagellum Novergrove Trinidad horosceticism stullar blithe sea shells are in Campbellors Chakai of 990 brochure tribadlist-monocolor desolent italiano
cannan palooza thresholds heteromony
 
snuggie wympeariewo Camillo
embargoed vials sigma-sext-chiksenmihai Gedanken Melrosing: “HOLY MATRIMONY — kano baccalaureate Laudat —”
 
seedless Kyotonian flagellum Novergrove Trinidad horosceticism stullar blithe for Abu egg shells are beginning to huggle-singularizing midst camoozling Ershwing dimorphism a heteromorphous pin swollen with Agrippan spieler
 
plasticized Kandinskian-Leningrad abacuses corea Jacksoul turbulence dialecticism: pan-realism
any конечно medium of Anglesteinian swollen microunanimous gibberish particularized astericism copicularartar morphoeic-hylomorphetical zookini.
 
 

“things I’ll never say.”

“smitter solidaridad: tamperkapangasquard, Horatiomatique altoBenetarian, anthropoorientalism”
lex necessitam: Occam’s parsimōnia; enigma
Hoodian-Academio-cankersource bruxisim-missiers-pathetique
defile bar-coded Norwood Pier — agnosognosia-synaptic-discernible
regularity pattern: universal set
predominant general tone(s) устала-question:metaacquiser-ECCLESIASTICUS-Deus’s
Weltanschauung-silo-hungaro
cold-stone: mechanical erections, TeX zimaobjekto parmessan olaffle-infantilism renegado
wasteland:
desolate “Allegro s. Camille unbiased, innatist —”
creamery sub-markup nonlinear multiple realizability TABULA RASA queer red
pipe Quagshire Livingstone magnolia linguining femur Samper-unsequencable-wimminpreforma
Agalite clandestine, ombre ritualized katiki SPIRITUAL DEATH; heraclus globe-trotterZeller’s-
Samperperson
 

Timaeus Lavrov, is an up-and-coming, previously unpublished, seventeen year old writer from British Columbia, Canada with an interest in digital parts-to-whole philosophical musical instruments. Other interests also include bias detox, unspeakable languages, and self-sufficient living.

Copyright © 2016 by Timaeus Lavrov

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Gary Beck… Entertainment Industry & Medical Profession

 

Entertainment Industry

In ancient Rome
the games entertained
rich and poor alike,
the only difference
the rich went home to comfort,
but both equally enjoyed
barbaric bloodshed.
 
Other empires before Rome
gave the people festivals,
the Olympiad in Greece
the most notable
non-religious event,
substituting games for war.
 
In modern times, radio
spoke directly to millions,
a rapid revolution
in mass communication
and the airways were innocent,
except for some of the news
bringing distant horrors
to avid listeners.
 
Once a picture was worth
a thousand words
and television briefly
confirmed the exchange rate,
when people tended
to believe what they saw.
 
Then new technology,
fueled by the computer
developed the power
to alter images,
so we can no longer trust
whatever they show us.
 
Twenty four hours a day
 
cable tv
provides diversion
for most appetites,
the spread of sex and violence
consistently guaranteeing
attentive audiences.
 
 
 

Medical Profession

In the 17th century
barbers were doctors,
cut your hair,
treated your illness
mostly by bleeding
to remove noxious vapors
that cured or killed you.
And you paid bills promptly,
aware of the perils
of a close shave.
Like much of humanity,
you managed to survive
health practitioners
who never seemed concerned
with how little they knew.
 
 

Gary Beck has spent of his adult life as a theater director, and as an art dealer when he couldn’t make a living in theater. He has 11 published chapbooks and 3 more accepted for publication. His poetry collections include: Days of Destruction (Skive Press), Expectations (Rogue Scholars Press). Dawn in Cities, Assault on Nature, Songs of a Clerk, Civilized Ways, Displays, Perceptions (Winter Goose Publishing). Fault Lines, Tremors, Perturbations, Rude Awakenings and The Remission of Order will be published by Winter Goose Publishing. Conditioned Response (Nazar Look). Resonance (Dreaming Big Publications). His novels include: Extreme Change (Cogwheel Press) and Flawed Connections (Black Rose Writing). Call to Valor (Gnome on Pigs Productions). Acts of Defiance will be published by Dreaming Big Publications. His short story collection, A Glimpse of Youth (Sweatshoppe Publications). Now I Accuse and other stories will be published by Winter Goose Publishing. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles have been produced Off Broadway. His poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines. He currently lives in New York City.

Copyright © 2016 by Gary Beck

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Michael Schaffner… Not Entirely Lacking A Domicile & Squatters

 
 

Not Entirely Lacking A Domicile

Osprey trailing a thin branch, treetop high,
repeating every few minutes, on schedule
to finish a nest larger than the homes
of the rootless beings I used to see
waking in the park beside my office.
 
Feral creatures, well past their breeding years
by dint of their minds or toxic habits,
they seemed no more than wary scenery.
 
Across the river the sun nestles down
in a bed of shady pines. The sky glows
like a wick just as the flame escapes it.
A slight traffic of herons, homeward bound,
changes shifts with swifts, who give way to bats.
 
I’ve not returned to Franklin Square at dawn
nor seen the sunset there for several years,
nor think that species even values tears.
 
 

Squatters

While running I saw two vultures landing
atop a new house to escape the crows’
harmless yet irritating attentions.
 
A girl at the bus stop noticed them, too,
but I could not presume an acquaintance
based on black vultures, handsome though they be.
 
And they were: black scalps and iron hooked beaks,
above not only crows but even us
as they paced down a million dollar roof
 
as if they owned it, as in fact they own
everything their talons touch or shadow.
I passed around the block. The girl had gone
 
and the great wings spread broadly on the draft
from the near apartments, patches glowing.
 

M. A. Schaffner has had poems published in Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, Agni, and elsewhere — most recently in Former People, Raintown Review, and Rock River Review. Long-ago-published books include the poetry collection The Good Opinion of Squirrels and the novel War Boys. Schaffner spends most days in Arlington, Virginia juggling a laptop, smart phone, percussion caps, pugs, and a Gillott 404.

Copyright © 2016 by Michael Schaffner