Urban Punks in Cahokia, Mitchell Pluto

Putting butter in your coffee has its limits.

I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.

Picture a world without milk.

Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.

Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.

You know how important we are with screens and phones.

Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.

Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.

Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.

All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.

The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.

Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.

When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.

Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.

A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.

Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.

I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.

As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.

The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.

Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.

I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.

It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.

The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.

While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.

A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.

There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.

I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.

Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.

Putting butter in your coffee has its limits.

I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.

Picture a world without milk.

Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.

Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.

You know how important we are with screens and phones.

Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.

Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.

Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.

All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.

The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.

Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.

When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.

Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.

A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.

Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.

I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.

As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.

The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.

Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.

I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.

It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.

The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.

While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.

A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.

There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.

I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.

Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.

Putting butter in your coffee has its limits.

I bid adieu to my B vitamin steak. I will miss you.

Picture a world without milk.

Ice cream melting rapidly, just like time.

Urban punks in Cahokia, rocking our Superphones.

You know how important we are with screens and phones.

Those epic malls and convenient centers of Valhalla uploaded to the Grand Central Terminal internet.

Brace yourself for Temu. It’s got it all. Soon it will be too much.

Wars of value, relevance, and delivering discarded items.

All this didn’t last as long as the Milky way.

The soil’s health is not being discussed on Facebook Reels.

Just like space explorers, microplastics are on a mission through the vastness of our environment.

When you think about it, everyone is basically a hibakusha.

Every brain harbors scenarios that resemble Katsushika Hokusai’s, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.

A fantasy that fearlessly blurs the lines of reality without consent or limits.

Reality endured a ruthless assault, as if every influencer was squeezing, biting, and sucking it dry.

I always mix up the economy and the stock market like it’s a cocktail shaker.

As of now, it’s not a historical drama that you can binge-watch on a streaming platform.

The Roman Empire comes beautifully close, if you’re interested. Yes, beautifully like bigly.

Mississippians and the Buzzard Cult were hip to the limited series.

I’m pretty sure Edgar Cayce was talking about a computer when he said the word crystal. But I’m still not sure.

It was like time was playing tricks on us, with the present and past all jumbled together.

The memories undergo slight alterations as we recall them.

While amnesia happens a lot, some folks say they can remember past lives at Göbekli Tepe.

A flowing line between garbage and newness. Art with a bold line that separates primate from the software enhancer.

There's this commercial that keeps popping up on my screen about immortality.

I'm thinking about moving my memory to a younger clone. This trend is really catching on.

Don’t stress, actual stars shine brighter than any confinement.

AWE, Heller Levinson

 

AWE

 

                                   toggle-lode

 

                                    amethyst

 

                                    flabbergast

 

 

                             (                                               )

 

                   (             :             )

 

                                                                   (      ;      )

                                    (

                                                        )

 

 

 

willingly jut upon with no small canister earthly delights – lying there –

upon transition  imminent infarction where helms melt heaps spoil

traducement a thoroughfare bending eaves in the ewe of traction all

ears

 

Three Poems, Mark Wilson

 

Initiation

Mug’s game

ludo-swirl

textual

reconnaissance

through the

subterrain

of ledger:

its recto 

stained verso

calibration-

dance of

de-cluttered

pagination

choreo-

graphs

breviary-snug

moveable

feast-board

slides the cuts

sideways

upcycling

found refuse

to installation-

ideograms

What method?

Don’t be too

methodical

& laboured

in welding anew

scrap metal

stamp coin

with impression’s

style Lear’s

snubbed profile

nosing grass

ant-as-centaur

boils down

grande basse

don’t take

yourself for

anything more

than mug-visaged

as you whirl

ludo-hemisphere

at Fortuna’s

tart behest

for one

final waltz

in the piazza

of burnt vanity

inhaling only

from ink-

stained digits

this amulet

of a smithereen

of ash 

Recital

Applause as life-sentence.

You’re only democratic

with the dead,

a tyrant to the living.

Recital is self-execution,

to their strained laughter

(still it will be performed).

Present in body, absent

in every other faculty.

Automated & enunciatory:

jaw-clamped , oesophagus

of sandpaper, murmuring

your sheet-music tirade

prescribed to the point

of proscription.

You are mouth, pure

unadulterated mouth.

Applause as jury-trial.

On the razor’s blade

(Occam’s or the drawn sword

of your Hari Kiri?

Who can readily discern?)

Preamble more oracular

than the composition itself.

Hardly sibylline,

your collocation

of fragments & shards.

Gists, sauced piths which are

rag-bagged, then dropped

into the goulash.

Intoned with Epicurean

indulgence, this: 

your cuisine-macaronic.

Language is an armoured 

vehicle, bringing menace

& wholesale atonement

in all its inky contrail.

Applause as solitary confinement.

Won’t someone pass me

the hemlock through this

semantic-grille?

Book Contract

Contractual in ink’s

haemoglobin legalese

masking the mutual

exploitation leases its

dead-hand clowns gadfly

signature-piece formal

overtures undercut brio

of imagination’s paradigm

traces ironia steel-serrated 

laughter excruciating

Covenant’s spilt

blood cursive’s

momentarily

pristine

Mark Wilson has published four poetry collections: 'Quartet For the End of Time' (Editions du Zaporogue, 2011), 'Passio' (Editions du Zaporogue, 2013), 'The Angel of History' (Leaky Boot Press, 2013) and 'Illuminations' (Leaky Boot Press, 2016). He is the author of a verse-drama, 'One Eucalyptus Seed', about the arrest and incarceration of Ezra Pound after World War Two, as well as a tragi-comedy, ''Arden'. His poems and articles have appeared in: The Black Herald, The Shop, 3:AM Magazine, International Times, The Fiend, Epignosis Quarterly, Dodging the Rain, The Ekphrastic Review, Rasputin and Le Zaporogue.

NHC III,2; IV,2, Irene Koronas

 

1

90 percent in colop dex 3,

a protennoia in the ophite

version. 5 or at least 7

pentads doke the authentic 

flex. When segmen

hose the dentalize

and ghost the first

clinamen 

the first cog

the second tity

will alcove 55 ping pong 

tesseras.

A slant intrution

for a moment

filters notspars

inguges 

to perspective

an introx moot, 

oxic shutty 

that meta lorri

tarns the diagram

from pockanch 

the repro 

2

Dereading

discuts

and edits desponse 

to what is 177-78

derepeat 398

derefer 2 critical 

dequirements

sense or less

precise neodeduce

a statuary dehabit

the suspense trigger

that pronouns 

deincluse

3

This suppose broken

by dectifying

injunc with possible 

dedecessor the dedecessor

each ascend 

the decumference

deremains straight

a clear decupera

and an energy dereserve

from deconversion

the dialectical intricacy

alters a sharp degion 

at this point

degather and deinterpret

each expurg decall

becomes deputation

for expulsion

Irene Koronas is the author of numerous collections of xperimental writing. Her Grammaton Series includes siphonic, Volume VI (BlazeVOX, 2022), lithic cornea, Volume V (BlazeVOX, 2021), holyrit, Volume IV (BlazeVOX, 2019), declivities, Volume III (BlazeVOX, 2018), ninth iota, Volume II (The Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2018) and Codify, Volume I (Éditions du Cygne, 2017). Her collections include Turtle Grass (Muddy River Books, 2014)  and Pentakomo Cyprus (Červená Press, 2009). Her xperimental writing and sauvage art have been published in Alligatorzine, BlazeVOX, The Boston Globe, Buzdokuz, Cambridge Chronicles, E·ratio, Marsh Hawk Press Review, Offcourse, perspektive, slowforward, Taos Journal of International Poetry & Art and Word For/Word. She is the Publisher of Var(2x). Her website is irenekoronas.com. 

Selected Works, Daniel Y. Harris

2.223 

Zakhor, its symmetrodonta 

(reNgine for recon): this Kol 

Nidre is arkhonic—death 

urge, the archive. 

Crystallō—files:NUM/ringbuffer. 

2.224 

This archenomology—covenant

is struck with Karkinos: otobiograph

for no pasarán, 

hacks a CTF.     

 

2.225 

Shibboleth—a priori: request

a forgery (CSRF) 

attack—Šin.

3.03 

Indifférance in black oilcloth,

sprung from rumor—use

Pwndora, the massive

Ipv4 scanner. 

3.031 

Ǵhutóm in beyng, the pincer 

grip (gobfuscate 

in the SharpChisel):

in Weltjudentum, the hackney,

the cobalt strike aggressor

against the sorites paradox:

unworld. Run TorBot—axis split

the null (exonerator/condemner).

BURNALLs lingual barb (sawol). 

3.032 

The fygure—memoires d’aveugle:

CodExt (encode/decode)—overlap:

CyberChef, Ciphey, Katana,

Basecrack, Sttr. This pelvic

collateral—sauf le nom

neuts pies lesu domine dona eis

requiem. Pistil/stamen by Satanael:

co-ordinata—the radix is negative.

Qeeqbox/socialanalyzer.git.

Coda: apokálupsis/hazon:

j-eden—this traumnabel. 

3.0321 

 

Tzerufei ‘Otiyyot—the syntagm 

divinitatis symbola: (Zbase32, hex,

geohash). Viens, reconnais 

la voix qui frappe ton oreille.

The law’s contra: 

gitcide—baud.

3.04

                 

The testimony 

(naguère)—OffensiveRust,

its haplóos cirques a high

hollow: prijōs. 

Body—gerem. 

3.05 

Dimyon in the exitwunt 

(Šabbat)—its RedGaurd in a C2 

facility preflow. Exploit this hapax

legomenon (VLANPWN):

Āyīn-e Mānī in the epiphysis,

or this adyton, the combrox.

3.1 

 

CRISPR-Cas9 antiviral defense

system or negentropy/syntropy:

SillyRAT—Überlegungen

bust. The despoiler.   

Daniel Y. Harris is an extreme experimentalist. His Posthuman Series includes The Resurrection of Maximillian Pissante, Volume V (BlazeVOX, 2022), The Misprision of Agon Hack, Volume IV (BlazeVOX, 2021), The Reincarnation of Anna Phylactic, Volume III (BlazeVOX, 2019), The Tryst of Thetica Zorg, Volume II, (BlazeVOX, 2018) and The Rapture of Eddy Daemon, Volume I (BlazeVOX, 2016). His extreme experimentalism has been published in Alligatorzine, BlazeVOX, The Denver Quarterly, Dichtung Yammer, E·ratio, European Judaism, Exquisite Corpse, Marsh Hawk Press Review, The New York Quarterly, Notre Dame Review, perspektive, Poetry Salzburg Review and Word For/Word. He is the Publisher of Var(2x). His website is danielyharris.com.

Four Poems, Sneha Mohidekar

 seal-skin

skin in/side means

viscera/l lee-side protects

interstitials buttoned/interstitial

buttons protect

the biting wind/she

eats/the skin off her lips

eats her lips eats her skin

enamel enables

whispering/requires the means

to close your mouth

cut fruit

she douses her hands in orange juice

pretends it’s blood

pretends to have slayed a giant, harvested its heart

pretends the empty chambers are whisper galleries

pretends to hear secrets, technically articulated

pretends they’ll slip on a technicality

pretends that was the question

she sucks blood off her teeth

pretends it’s orange juice

or, doesn’t pretend—

preens

end of the world as we knew it 

the fish are tilting at windmills

the pigs have bulked up and backwards and sprouted feathers

like a dinosaur, or a chicken

we stay inside and watch

and try to keep our siblings from escaping out the bathroom window

to tilt their heads back and stick their tongues out and close their eyes

trying to catch scraps of sky

falling as brown-bottle sea-glass

the atmosphere is fracturing along ley lines and 

we were wrong about them

(their placement not

their existence)

all the perforations in the earth

(oil wells, water wells, well, well, well)

are singing best of the 2000s

I can hear you harmonizing

one of your sisters asks if we can go get milkshakes

my brother asks if he can drive

he isn't licensed, though, I remind him

and he laughs so hard I think he's folded his lungs into origami shapes

shooting star, airplane, butterfly

when we leave the drive-thru, I have a foot out the window

and one and a half fingers on the steering wheel—

my body has become liminal

you have an arm and half your torso out the window

reaching to pet the wind's soundwaves

you raise your whole chest to ask me

voice curling gentle between the cupholders and the gearshift

will it hurt

I pretend not to hear over the sound of the smog ripping into composite parts 

you don’t ask again

our siblings are in the back

they're so big

expanding into the space and then expanding it

they're making shapes out of the clouds

and dripping hamburger juice onto my seats

in/set

the cartographer draws

fractals and eats them

the wind brings her erosion

the cartographer carves her face

of the cliff with her maps of the cliff

hangs reality on record

there is salt in the water

and in the wind and in the way

displacement is a vector and

is loadbearing caves walled in water

carry the cliff

Sneha Mohidekar (she/her) reads poetry theory and queer space operas on the train. Her work can be found in The Indianapolis Review and Ghost City Review.

Three Poems, Heller Levinson

 ASTRAY

reared oblong

obliquity scatter

                                                corner table

                                                tether fray

                                                loin wobble

 

an iridescence at the foot of plunder

 

caged colloquy flirt transmissible, high-

strung hollows gape, astir with

unblemished ritual,

sweetening the backside of archaic resemblance patterns born of infidel grow contagious

 

throats glow

agitate

SENTINEL

heed

rail thin

                    vapour from a past idle

                    air as contraband

 

unseemly deposits dwarf the earnest

 

                    looking for clues   an

                    early tide

 

washaways

change heart

 

Note: SENTINEL Hinges to Richard Capobianco’s masterful Heidegger commentary, Heidegger’s Way of Being.

Richard writes: “Sentinel” in its root meaning is one who is open to and receives and takes in what is; one who “senses” all that is…. The “sentinel” as “herald” makes manifest what is manifest.

& Richard’s English translation of Heidegger’s translation of the Heraclitus fragment 93 is also pertinent:

The high one, whose place of the pointing-saying is in Delphi, neither uncovers (only) nor conceals (only); rather he gives signs.

Poet Will Alexander says this about SENTINEL:

Thanks for sharing this wayward musical drift, this wayward ensemble of splinters, this daring motific of blankness, the seeming thrill of in-action. Somehow blizzards burn and trace themselves by randomity, by a curious sanction of spells.

SOUJOURN

pass-through                     alight

          heft flex hammock burl

                              flounce

                    flop

          ply

bell overleaf

trill embark

 

the anchor

sinks back

 

into its own

recalcitrance

Heller Levinson is the author of LURE (Black Widow Press, 2022), and lives in New York where he studies animal behavior.

Selected Works, Heller Levinson

 

Rural Songs from the Gunboat

 

sweet wheeze ka → boom

                    pikeberry lullaby

                                   sunflower

ether loiter              troll transcendence

 

in the riparian quench of a stalled orthodoxy

                                                            glut-clot

                                                                      lapidification

 

edges toy beginnings

 

soil plum(b)s porosity

 

declawed serenades sprinkle the field,

flake-offs from dispirited mechanisms, tune-

less, blunt, root

res-

idential, roil whereabouts, consider plantings

 

the hurt fled otherwise

 

song

sycamore

the night sky

 

even so

SHAPE SLUMBER

 

bud pubescent hammock gruel sift surmise palpitant outline sketch dialysis wriggle configure calve wary callow brink                  manifestation mulls

milk prep curdle               cradle abeyance ladle crop fickle in the lurk bellows

                             

                              bramble arbiter

                              pattern prolix curvature zeal

                              slump cowslip

                              verdancy slouch

 

edge assemble consultation brew           constituency poach           pattern probe loft

in the mould formative knead

                    ‘When making an axe handle the pattern is not far off.’

                                                            where in the

                                                              presentation

                                                              is

                                                                 evacuation?

                                                                  truancy?

                                                                   insubordination?

armature reel stencil dart pattern pluck pluperfect comatose rain

          -- how many configurations bedeck the plank –

                                                  where in the

                                                  innate

                                                  is

                                                  design

stamped in armature signature slap where is ambage? recalcitrance?

                                        vision?

 

lurking in distillate residual prehistoric psychic trench -- tomahawk sun, wood ar-

ousal – loaf-affiliates saunter, float silhouettes, draw the

flux of

evolutionary doze

                                                                                                                                                     

Note: SHAPE SLUMBER emerges from Heidegger’s notion of a cabinetmaker’s apprenticeship. He asserts that the teaching is not merely one of learning the utility of the tools & the forms he is to build, but, most importantly, & above all, ‘to  respond to the different kinds of wood and to the shapes slumbering within wood – to wood as it enters into man’s dwelling with all the hidden riches of its nature. In fact, this relatedness to wood [my italics] is what maintains the whole craft.’

 

This ‘relatedness’ includes the smell, feel, & tone of the wood, . . . its pulsative vocalisms.

The ‘draw,’ in the 3^rd to last line, would denote the draw as configuring (as in artistic ‘drawing’,) as well as the ‘drawing’ near, the bringing to, the shapes appearing.

 

whereupon the dark rang forecast falter felony

upbeat melody plea fidelity quell threnody days like this proper attire propel pinch a beat crash a cymbal starlit bowsprit turnabout heave heave come to me cleave(oh―age) my darling pluck a’here pluck there turps rubout scrub on all fours floorboard scratch squeak ploan moan yesterday’s clothing even under the radar pathos visible has a way unerring divisibility surmise come as you are watch for seepage planetary rotation is indistinguishable from Buddhism  (?)  in & out burger gas prices counting shades of confinement perpetuity complex liner notes the leaves are raspberry blush when counter clockwise cluck cluck cluck pass the buck whine a shoe drill a hole kill a mole feather fright molt delight the earth is a cube the earth is not a cube sheaf theory establishes reliability over & over again rhapsody senility come as you are duplicitous contraband controversial conundrum crux buster sums on board come out come trip the meter fret the reaper where’s the speaker nevermore forevermore more’s the least of it how shallow amplitudinously remote grab a hold hold a hand grill a chill steal a shovel what comes from the earth returns to the earth so says tracking data attached to the open sets of topological space hi ho hi ho ringalevio                  approaching finality the end of world history at this late stage of things during this late stage of things how to conduct oneself? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the question lodged in dilemma. not a clue. this way, → push pull pulley lever scramble brake accelerate more/less perhaps/maybe monkey wrench quench down the trench if then where when

why

why not

Beloved Ambiguous

 

lark-fell oneiric pine starlit ambiguity, fertile nexus, --

confluent, lateral, explosive, shunning stratified sterilized mimetics   brokered definitions   sclerotic conditioning

 

rooted in blazing emotional turquoise pinwheeling gemstone cogitation the living lapse erupts as cosmos, as electrical discharge exfoliating

exuberant apertures

Heller Levinson is the author of LURE (Black Widow Press, 2022), and lives in New York where he studies animal behavior.