Tribal rug

 

Gods transmogrify

They wanted me big and easy

But easy to be big it's not

It's easy to ignore complications

As immense as mine

Designed as strong, prolific

Prolific of what you now

Ask, strong how? 

Strong of odor and corrosion

Life adapts to dangers

Sunshine once was lethal

Compliance trumps resistance

Gods transmogrify

by Reptily

stick-to-itiveness

tired lazy afraid

armed ready reluctant

resigned ready resistant

today hour now

moment opportunity vacuum

thinking sitting breathing

shallow tentative quiet

wait listen ready

static void orphan

space time energy

will infinity ready

stasis decay fertilization

temporal infinity power

uncomprehending

nonhuman

stick-to-itiveness

Daughter of Missy

The One About The Oozing Sores

They tell me I've become less gutteral, more lucid

But because i've lived more a heretic than thou

I should ride out pain like some martyr to the sins of All

Dance out my stories on a tawdry stage

A dance that stomps, backwards

Dear aunt Chamatilly's favorite verse for me:

The One About The Oozing Sores

But seeking out mind alteration is in the same family tree

As vicious accommodation

As religion

To deal with how the most powerful urges are

Also the ones that make no sense at all

An answer that also makes no sense makes the most sense

I give you:

The Institute for the Preservation of the Mthyuh Preservation Society

By Missy
Preservation Day Address

Journal of the Institute for the Preservation of the Mthyuh Preservation Society

The dead, the dead of, and the dead to

tree growing in its own jetsam and rot

strains reason from the vagary of thought

every dream refined to the quest for light

the dead the dead of the dead to all fight

with the glory of stars newly risen

[Traditional]

The Blue-Eyed Seminole

A judge granted us each a restraining order against the other, but that was already three 5-year cubes of human time past its expiration lagging behind like a momentary and lifesaving act of cannibalism when we both ate mushrooms from an autistic shaman and yours didn't have any effect because of the type of antidepressant you were on and mine didn't show me my spirit animal but we were able to figure out between us that yours is The Blue-Eyed Seminole. I'd like mine to be Dick Van Dyke or Shamu but it turns out that under current circumstances the two of us together must follow this single Earth man's moonlike and scantily clad glow. Parts of our brains can see him glaring down from the face of a painting or standing out in the yard. He tracks but does not intervene in the volatile triad of bastardized great Danes, the result of breeding experiments, a poltergeist that has formed in our sphere of responsibility, a small sphere, admittedly, and which challenges us in nearly every moment to be strong and to rise from our cares enough to impose order on our house, a house of ancient nobility and brotherhood with nature, Her silt, her DNA, coating the carpets paintings books coats; our family shield, 3 dogs playfully trying to mount one another ad infinitum, reminds us to be alive to the teeming animas, all of us creatures with fears and desire. We follow our guide blindly and groggily. As we sleep we see his silhouette in the glowing blue rectangle, the bluish scar on our optic canvas from hourly superhuman forays into virtual dimensions. We see The Blue-Eyed Seminole cast a heavy blanket on a flare of anger or when he sparks a desire to get out and walk. His eyes don't tear up in the bitter cold, but his cheeks become livid and fierce. We had to trek this far to find him on his turf. It feels to me but it's hard to say for sure if he's the one who will lead us through the borderlands. 

by Jan

floor

 

Make a pyre in a ring of iron

Pass time unmeaningfully

Rest in a place of uncaring

Surrender to the call of napping

Flail in your sleep with abandon

Grab at familiar handles

Basic functions are a luxury

Planets are moving involuntarily

Appliances waken automatically

Collect these moments in memory

The year sluffs off all around you

Gather all the deadened units

Make a pyre in a ring of iron 

Send it all to the heavens

[Traditional]

Respect me

 

Lidda ones

d'planet drew a deep breaf

an took off from isseff

itta bin pre-decide it

who be leffin d'duss

d'ones who suffer d'mos

an dey lidda ones

by Missy

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crumpled stem

What if only the legs prevail?

beyond unattractiveness

what are repercussions for the

mind and other limbs?

these parts radiate from the loin

these thighs cradle all life

or not, but they inhabit this

architecture cultural physical

template but what of a mind

imagining itself wobbling at

the top of a crumpled stem

or wholistically unwhole

What about arms that have

strategically surrendered to

over and under working

and life-extending poisons

Let it be the legs that go

last let me cling to the

capacity to run away

to die while seeking freedom

Comical scenes come to

mind for example if blind

earnest, yet flattened by

a car, which reminds all

The rest of us of where

we are, that some liberties

cannot should not be.

Only the mind can flee.

Ayre Fromme-Diaz

Dance of good fortune

Bone pile

Sure they use coffins their bodies are human-sized

And they go in the ground everybody cries

But who decorates a casket like a fancy cake

Parades it in the streets along with fist shakes

This is what they appear to do in their culture

We on the other hand would only act that way

If somebody kept killing our families or gays

And we wanted to send a message of both

Love and rage grief and exasperation

But i've never seen it happen in our nation

In Mexico they'll make a big show for the

Funeral but if you can't pay your remains

May be replaced by the next guey and 

May even be on display in a bone pile

Invisible from the North American aisle

The more you explore exotic continents

Listen to sentences with few consonants

One finds it's also just the same: humans 

Stuck in a box culture history war place

Or freedom deconstructionism outer space

Ayre Fromme-Diaz