Luck, but NO COFFEE.

Frat Boy

Lime and breakbeat
shudder,
butter,
gun.

Words to blend his drink to
metered whiskey fun

Holy fucking mob-queen
fiery liquid squat
crash, crecendo, mission-bleak
I am what you're not

Go off and party, motherfool
Gamma Theta Rho
When pencil-pushers hit the stacks
you'll be feeling up some ho

BUT on the streets and in the lake
a band plays round the clock
banished there 'cuz thrumming rhythm
sends shockwaves down the block

DRUMS and BASS
BASS and FIRE
liquid,
mortal,
make.

"Come one step nearer and I swear -
Your face is going to break."

•¶•

TRIP to 5206 A

a bitter draught
nine-pin and tap
sweet pine resin
"nearly broke my back"

hang tight, but loosen.
captain's fitful jack:
earwood
wormwort
tenfold scraping hack...

mist over jungle mountain
spearpoint buried deep
rusted chain coiled to wake but left behind to sleep

fluorecent kingdom and
fitful cave
disease in rampant runs /
ancient culture and
pyramids
boiled down to slimy slums /

Mexico City.
Kick shit and splatter...
adobe walls built up end to end
there's smoke that covers the sky
and you're sick in a waste-basket
puking up some expensive sandwich.

***^***
ª--I--º

There are the two newest. Both written 'tween classes - such fun it is.
It's sorta nice to be back, although I did not have the finest of experiences "getting back in touch with campus" as people will tell you.

LOCK IT OR LOSE IT - If found return to:

In the last three weeks I think I've navigated a caked mud flat. That is to say an dawn to dusk routine of compressed but boring thoughts... mirages of break on the horizon. A voyage with some lush oases, albeit, but still long, hard and mindless. I think I have traveled out of this place, finally. Things are stirring, and for the first time in what seems like forever I've been able to SEE again, quite literally. My eye has come back to me - the first breath of the ocean at my lips - was looking at the snow layered gently on the Lathrop flower bed's bare earth. I stopped in my tracks right there on the sidewalk and just breathed in.

I am a predicter of omens that all too often are simply natural variation. Our 60º day here in Madison coinciding with a beautiful happening in my own life - turned out to be the bearer of great cold as our weather plunged to a ghastly 7º. I guess I just need to stop tying things together that do not necessarily belong together. Good things happen to me, and I should love them for what they are - not try to explain them through means of superstition. Bad things, too, happen, and I should find no scapegoat for my troubles. Times ebb and flow - the good and bad mix and swirl and in my mind, they happen because of events prior, yes, but who am I to tie completely unrelated events into (seemingly) logical explainations?

•••¶

As of late I have been especially appreciating the notions of tribes of people. Not so much the ethnic factors, but more commonly the simple community that exists among truly tribal people. I also have always been fond of creating useful things from nature and the art and tools that people fashion from the raw stock of this earth. I have decided to take up beadlooming and would particularly like to fire and color my own clay beads to make an intricate headband or sash. I have experimented with patterns - calling the lines of "beads" into attention in Photoshop like little marbles or planets or miniscule grains of sand. So we'll see what happens.

Please, let me introduce you to one Mr. Leohold of 128 S. Wennick Rd., Orchard Park, NY 14127-2237.

1:25 %P<

The title of this poem is "Jack Scott".

Gun it sloth and hair-netter hemoglobin
seventeen melting festering eyes
to drop,
begin,
inverted astro-plane
more or less complete

razor sandblasted monkey azimuth air-balloon
cobalt copper peaches funky sunlight and maroon

Lippant cake sent waves up on the beach
after hailstorm
wine rivers melting
gunwales and whales and marching tin soldiers
beef and acid lake
Lippant cake

I opened my eyes and they burned red hot
ash and cinder black
falling, rolling down the block
white cat and corduroy
mindless hunk of hock

Play LaCrosse evening air sweet ruby tea-drinking
melt and tie together
colored floss in warm sunlight
axiom and mindful
leave the plant to bite.

nettle windscreen,
clay of crooked hut
mild encephelitetic fore-frontal membrane
his is all for hash

I went to the peanut store.
Shouldn't bother...
I went to the store for audio JACKS.
Shouldn't try...
Three o' clock sunrize, soulshadow, milkshake
brine liquid-tot
one for what it was
other what it was NOT, Jake.
or Jake Sumatra wave
Killbourne and astro-plane
guncutters, United Way
Lapland guerilla
icy beanpole Scott.