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- DRAW BLOOD OR GO HOME -
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CONTRIBUTORS
Tony Rickaby
Dan Raphael
Leanne Bridgewater
Oscar Towe
Steve Perkins
Alexander Limarev
Bill DiMichele
___________________________________________Leanne Bridgewater
Oscar Towe
Steve Perkins
Alexander Limarev
Bill DiMichele
Hermann Hesse on Visual Poetry
“Sometimes I’ll be writing a Greek letter, a theta or an
omega, and tilt my pen just the slightest bit; suddenly the letter has a tail
and becomes a fish; in a second it evokes all the streams and rivers of the
world, all that is cool and humid; or it becomes a bird, flaps its tail, shakes
out its feathers, puffs itself up, laughs and flies away. These are the letters
with which God wrote the world.”
Narcissus and Goldmund
“On his knees was a book of parchment in which he was
writing; dragons flew out of the letters, and colored snakes reared themselves.
He did not look at me; he went on writing, absorbed in his colored shapes. I saw the snakes and dragons emerge from his
writing, whirl about and silently disappear into the dark wood.”
Journey to the East
Tony Rickaby
Send submissions for TOK 21 to julie-d@prodigy.net. Submissions are due by Labor Day, 2015.
Tony Rickaby
Among Small Spaces
Filling a Plain Rectangle
Smashed Silver Spreading
White Lines Wavering Through
Dan Raphael
The
World We Know
step
out of the world we know
body
of interstices
no
one hit
the
wall comes right up hello
the
way you rise
room
in so many breaths
bread
in so many hands
half
the windows spread their wings
today
a blanket tomorrow dinner
if
I don’t gather the water
split smoked
stirred several times a day
wandering
on the 5th side of the house
as
a chair
from
a tree
as
our legs
into
music
I Love Geography
A
map in shreds
Map
shreds made into a globe
Light
shines through
Improper
projection
Right
side up—ask the sun
No
stars below
><><><><><
The
map behind the map
A
virgin grid
Crow
vs. car
Bicycle
with pogo stick wheels to jump cars & fences
Streets
not on the map
10
google camera cars exploding on the same day
The
satellite realized it was orbiting the wrong planet
Map
gift wrap, lamp shade, hemispheric pajamas
><><><><><
A
map of reeds & shells
My
palm maps my life
4
colors to avoid adjacent bleeding
A
19th century map
A
map of the land beneath antarctica
For
a week the earth had no magnetic lines--
they came back with new assignments &
uniforms
My
nav system only speaks korean
I
spent days origami-ing the map into an almost sphere
><><><><><
When
land and ocean were in separate huddles
When
it rained dirt
Shoveling
water that’s not frozen
Road
paved with maps
The
square tattooed on his bicep is the outline of his home state
If
the mountains were pressed flat & the land allowed to flow freely
Soon
china and india will overlap
As
ice shrinks borders swell
><><><><><
Instead
of “Oregon” the map says “mine”
Photoshopped
the map to take out topographic wrinkles
You
cant spell check a map
The
map of where we’re going won’t come out ‘til next summer
With
my magnifying glass i eliminated st louis
From
free maps to maps that charge every time you look at them
Homing shoes—never get lost
Asked
the map for directions, got no answer
Put
a tin foil map on my head & had no where to go
Roll
up that 100$ map and rail some mileage
All
the names have been replaced with coordinates
Is
that the horizon or a fold
Collide
Here Now
when
i have an accident
when
the other car backs into me
when
a clear intersection suddenly has a plymouth 2 feet in front of me
an
accident in my pants
an
accident waiting to be asked in
by
accident i met the woman of my dreams
a
dent in a fender, a dent in normality
i
only eat meat from animals i’ve killed.
when
is open season on cows. why are crows and robins protected,
when
we hear a gunshot outside we first do a roll call.
the
gun may have discharged accidentally but the gun was there on purpose.
some
cities you can make 4 left turns and be nowhere near where you started
out
rural each turn may be miles apart
chambered
nautilus cul de sacs
sounds
go into the ear and never come out
when
i walk i think like a cab with my own
voices in the back
sometimes
i’m in the back seat too and my body drives itself
fueled
by coffee & promises, the meters always running but the odometer
is easily distracted---i waited through three
green lights before i was threatened.
one
night i left my lights on and my room mate had to jump me in the morning,
running
in place while humming a led zeppelins guitar solo.
i
claim every accident i’m near, the lack of cause, the clamor of redistribution
retribution---render to chaos the things of
chaos. I’m an eager witness,
improvising
what i didn’t see or hear. a compass on every corner,
a
camera i can back date, cameras implanted in feral cats .
the
new burger joint has four drive up windows and no doors.
is
anyone inside, how do we get them out. i try not to hear the people
in
my engine screaming when i turn the key, the gas goes directly from
under
north dakota to a catheter on my leg
every
year half a million cars are made and never sold
a
river of dead cars flowing to the moon to change its gravity and our weather
when
mountains forget to sweat. what will come to nest in those open pits
of
montana and alberta—put a hole in my face and something will grow there
if
i don’t drive if i dont walk if i always order the same thing.
buying
in bulk reduces mistakes. if i refuse to give directions,
if
i keep my shoes in separate houses. you call and say i’m late, where am i.
the
corners are scrambling like ice floes. my car won’t start ‘til its done
talking,
reupholstered
in vinyl maps, cow hides resembling continents and waterways,
an
LED in the passenger seat blinks to show me where i am
That
plane falling across a freeway in Taiwan (2/4/15)
A
plane could fall from the sky, my car could start constricting like an anaconda
thats
already swallowed me without my wings
A
sun that smells like a sewer, a swimming pool where people
hold
their breath for a half hour or more—i cant see the bottom.
someone
else’s clothes are in my locker, her face in the mirror
When
opening a door is like entering a busy freeway,
yield
signs are popular in bedrooms and keep disappearing
I
mime starting a car until a key appears in my hand, keep turning the key
until
a steering wheel, i reach over my
shoulder and grab someone’s tie.
the
street is mirrored; the bridge surface is mesh—hundreds of aluminum ears
catch
the wind and hold up this bridge—six lanes in the middle but only one at each
end,
clear
tubing with miniature people in scale model boats racing across the river &
under the street,
every
time i bleed i smell the ocean and hear a seagull trying to say my name
To
change your beak is to change your diet is to transform your body chemistry
and
turn the flag of your colors into the map of a different subway
where
you can walk directly from one train to another, never touching the station.
The
elevator door opens into my apartment rises to the 7th floor and
slides into its nest.
the
duvet intensely quilted to resemble an ocean of meringue, starched to crackle
like
egg shells in an art gallery where anything you say is owned by someone
wealthier.
some
shop for eloquence, some only buy words they don’t know. context is way out of
my price range.
i
got a grant to “collect” bumper stickers
from bumpers and patch the arts commissions roof.
This
drug may cause an uncontrollable urge to
run north.
it’s
raining warm fat. the traffic light oozes ketchup, mustard & salsa verde.
warning
gates cascade like a chorus line seen through a fun house ceiling.
all
the clouds look like fish while the river has streets & neighborhoods.
one
downtown bridge so conflicted not even bicycles will cross
Leanne Bridgewater
a fre
a gheather
a leather
leg5yuh
leg11ik
Oscar Towe
Disgust
newcastle
obsession
sketch under highrise newcastle
Steve Perkins
Alexander Limarev
DANCE
GO WEST
Bill DiMichele
From the Netherworld
Send submissions for TOK 21 to julie-d@prodigy.net. Submissions are due by Labor Day, 2015.
thank u, steve perkins, more,more! support yr union!
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