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TEASERS Make Love, Make Laws) THE VIOLENCE ISSUE Cake War, ASH #7 SPRING 1991 EDITOR: DAVID R. WYDER ASH is a publication devoted to all forms of expression and is published about four times a year. ASH welcomes your submission with an open mind. Send us your artwork, comics, clippings, collages, poetry, prose, essay, short story, rants, raves, reviews and anything else you can think of that can be reproduced on these pages. Please send sufficient postage if you want your originals returned. ASH #7 is available for $2.00 in cash, check, stamps, trade or bull semen shipped frozen and ready to use. Direct all material and requests for issues to: DAVID R. WYDER/ASH 121 GREGORY AVE., #8-7 PASSAIC, NJ 07055 Back Issues of ASH #1-#6 are in limited stock but available for $1.00 per issue. IN THE ASHTRAY-Lifeline for the Summer Issue is June 30, 1991. No particular subject or theme is on tap. Hopefully we will have a new drum for the copier and the print quality will improve. In 1969 New Jersey had 25,000 acres of active “Garden landfill; today it has 17 acres. The State" has become the "Garbage State". Cover by James Lindley. Additional eredits on Inside Back Cover. FOR ADULTS ONLY 2 COURIERS #7 John M. Bennett - Columbus; Ohio ‘Les Cammer - Santa Barbara, California Judson Crews ~ Albuquerque, New Mexico Daniel E. - Cameron, Wisconsin Joe E ~ Riverton, New Jersey Jules Eironne - Ft. Wayne, Indiana Exia ~ Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania John Grey ~ Providence, Rhode Island Mark Hejnar — Chicago, Illinois M. Kettner ~ Seattle, Washington Ronald E. Kittell - Auburn, Washington Rodney Leighton - Pugwash, Nova Scotia James Lindley ~ Bellingham, Washington Donald McLeod - Sherman Oaks, California Errol Miller - Monroe, Louisiana Dan, Nielsen ~ Racine, Wisconsin Gregory Nyman ~ Gardener, Massachusetts Lawrence Oberc ~ Boston, Massachusetts Walt Phillips - Riverside, California Warland Ristau - Brown.Deer, Wisconsin Gomez Robespierre ~ Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Patience Sibeal ~ Ann Arbor, Michigan Steve Sibra ~ Seattle, Washington Kilgore Splake ~ Munising, Michigan Ken Stone - Portlandville, New York Belinda Subraman ~ El Paso, Texas Rob Treinen ~ Sioux City, Iowa Juan E. Wadd - Paterson, New Jersey Ken Wagner - Olean, New York Paul Weinman ~ Albany, New York Sigmund Weiss - Stony Brook, New York ALL rights revert to the above authors at time of publication. Payment is one issue. Contributors discounts available for any additional copies. BLIND COW PUBLICATIONS 1991 TATTLE, VW (111 THE VAGINA TTT TTL Ts “ay Well spring of life, MMT M11 working with the womb, p TAT I]]] © bring forth new Tives. ico me IML 1/1] Pulled, pushed, tugged to and fro, p MMI I/]] the vagina strains, pays heavy dues, I/]] 18 mis-shaped, scarred by its rigors. EL TAT 1/]] 8nd do the minora and majora er TIT HT in ecstasy, ming the path ce MIT t Ui ote tet sae een ote vey, 1/11 iggali/e| 00000 Rieecees eee 1/11 OF the emerging heed oaibedte en TTD TMI III] they ace montien OMT LTTTTLAL IIH goddeaatoattned Gen '/ THe cLiToRIs i I//[ worshipped in every home yy] and chapel on earth. Clitorius, clitorius, so sexy and so glorius, I/]] Untold joy and sorrow pass the '/ do you get attention true, /]]]X29inal opening and enter the soul 1] 90 the boys make love to you? LTT cna {/ Clitorius, clitorius, /]]jMen enter as impregnator, 17 over you i'd make a fuss! pf exit as child, ;, Eat you here and lick you there, never stay beyond / even thru that pubic hair! ‘/// gestation, never learn, A rele Clitorius, clitorius, I{[the mysteries within. (7 what we gonna do with us? '/]] Left to wonder, we worship {] My tongue wants you all alone, 1/// kneel and kiss her hearth, syjpmeke our best love to, Hee ee Oe creme ate the nerve endings sweet terminus! 1/7] DANIEL €. 17 2° You feel forgot sometimes? J omiy to come alive in rhymes? TUT TTT TAA i he ce BIIIIIT]]] Ciitorius, clitorius, you are so fucking marvelous! MUTT then I'll give the rest a bone! Clitorius, clitorius, Cause you are so nice and small, TTT if in my mouth I fit you all! WL 5 WIIITITIL crttorius, elitortus, | FAT RES ee eecken eiecra ners WTI WITT I'd) stiq cone cS you for fun! MITT TITY eimeorneee cUton tues MINT WU anetereerats cheese sina TTT) . VIIITIITI1. your taste drives me to Poetry! TTT) ahi WIIITITTT Ciitortus, elitortus ITT SE nce to a ae _ MUL : T/I1] there must be an end, this Ode, I : a eae oe eee AED PN IN) worveiouss novortuas”” I leave you now to sweet repose, bring this ditty to a close! CTT ELOY HLL ee anil eninge cae ie penaiags lh THAT AAT COMING OUT he seemed an average nerd but intelligent in confined ways and properly programmed response to stimuli acceptable respectable until he met us let his one inch hair down, calm easygoing changed quicker than a wilted penis against a centerfold layout there seemed hope then he lets slip his prejudice against gays blacks le women children anyone who breathes and jacks off on my carpet calling Michael Jackson weird BELINDA SUBRAMAN i | (ees GRANT _ME_A GRANT dear National Endowment for the Arts i've written a play THE LAST TURD Christ dieing on the cross loses control and drops one on the ground Mary Magdeline picks it up and suddenly has these powers like Bewitched or I Dream of Genie in one scene theologians argue whether or not it smells and if it smells whether it smells bad or good i need 25 dollars DAN NIELSEN 4 [2[2/2/=)2/=/=/=)=/=/=/=/=/=[=/=)=1=/=/=[=)=/=/=/=[=)=/=/=/=121=/=1=) 21212) 2/212 l=l=/2l2l=1=l21=1=1=1 “Twas on different drugs—crystal Methedrine; when 7 A New View on ce you walked down the streets, your heels made sparks. Hyperactivity 5 s 2 y EREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECEEEEEEEEEEE y, = 8 a 4 e 8 a8 3 e 4 E i i i # qs e # - 4. # 8 HE t 4 = 8 8 7, 4 2 esa 4 z a # =f aBege 2 a eu a°825 u & Simo sase & Zz 4 BSeshey i a # oftSiste 2 # 8 o SSeankese & | gocedfeos 4 Ee w >puc ued a a aa ERtsoeee. 2 & 2 ee ee Se qu 4 Oe pc Se a oe ee oal seffE2s2.5 2 8 g oS Sescssscas § 8 4 i g333333999993333333333333333333 © RE orn ea (NS OL NAYS BPP EPPEPEPE PEPPER EPP PPP PPP rrr CLAD ATA AAA AA TAL SUPPE! IME Crack house is popping winds spinning, walls stop bodies bursting. Some puking, others push the last needle just a little harder as gourmet 6 LATLD TATA A ALTA DADA ALAA AAA AAT ALLL, DOWNTOWN Sucking on dead bricks, the street kids wear Nikes stolen where Whitey folds money in logs of green. Chicken feathers flutter between teeth as nasty lines road-map skin. Social workers walk with trays of condoms colors of the rainbow. meals are phoned for in another part of town. PALMAE Een PAUL WEINMAN LETT TALL TT TALL AAA THAT TL INSIDER Damn doctors say I'm nowhere if they catch me once more, drinking brandy filtered through Sandy's, panties. My hands shake, so I light my cigarette at both ends, puff through the middle. If only I had a scissors wire-mesh windows give the future such a choppy look. Please allow me to cut this out. Hey Sandy, it's laundry day at the bar; mind if I smoke? Steve Sibra MTT SMUT STATA OTITTTVITTLTTTITTLTTTIT TTT TTT TTTTTLTTTTTTTTATITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTATTTTITTTTTT TTT DELUGE II as the glades fill with dead wood the termites begin to feast pregnant rain clouds commence their dark labor "Dime musp be of the the plants stretch tesenoe/ irate an their hollow Linear corrections. throats (ey anticipating the sustenance of tiny dripping infants & the Earth in a fit of rebellion bored with it all rumbles & farts then crowns his dome the North Pole with a tacky Mohawk toupee. RONALD EDWARD KITTELL SURFEIT IN A WRINKLED PARADISE Too much beauty in the world. Let's disfigure some unfortunate glamorous creature. Too much happiness in the world. Let's bring a death notice to the home of a newlywed Too much love in the world. Let's begin by despising all those things we would normally hold so closely, hold dear =-And let's curse ourselves, =-Yes, let's excoriate our own wretched selves and hope that by doing so we can make the world a better place. GOMEZ ROBESPIERRE TITEL TTA TAT TTA TAA TAT AAT 8, TITTLE AGL TTT TTT TTA TD Wh ////// mm 1111, ///, Why Knot? 1 say, why knot indeed, tty Sethe tM 1//_8 knot, a gag and blindfold black, HII a brace of lashes to your back! ae Ma Spankings, submission, humiliation true, WL i all that lies in store for you! = MIT HHH pienaqon eeaesase Greer eH ie sm ii/! UE, nadeenatgte why I love you so, it {11 want to help make you. know, a I am Master, you are slave! 114 ot eneeh cra ca ete eae ee Wh walk-on all fours {ike a mutt. Wy HN WL The collar, it's all yours! Wii 1) the others’ went. to other whores! WH 7/1 8d you will be rewarded, er) welts to your ass awarded, Way He For enjoyment given me WI 11 as'you beg. For-agony. Ht 1] ROE WI TTT ATLL TLL TTT 11 TATA Wit LLL TTL LLL Wi a Ha a ee cn Ht I11] COLLAR HIN eso fi : Wt a) : Wit WIAD aeaceavent MN 9 1 IIL goid cotlars MILT] end Wi /1]] 3 symbol of Ta, Bonide. tere monaorin! (171171, Wi TEL) OR moore a HBeS Sone Sth woos! 771/11) Mil HIT he gericate. LIAN) THIN... SEA HII] Filigree WN) a wm //// HI] workmanship TTL) WIT mol //// HULL (econ pee eg 11001) EEEETTTL | LLLLLLLLLLLL 11111 WL WHE wyipebsees tans eM ute A i +s H//] 1 kiss the ITT) Hf eulsexainivoun | // 7/7 V//// TUT paeventure chain (Cad /111T1) HITT shut and so seat /////)) ITT) H/f your contract NT) VIET) ELE So mes my TONS an MITT J/I1 Ken STONE A, : V/11 1) r ee WVirsscsrreeseee His TIN = eam TIL TITTTTTL TTT TTA LAL TLL LLT LT TTL LLALT LTT LLLLL LTT LTA i — THU ee MIT LTA TTT TTT TTT TATA TTT TTT es MT LUM TTT TALL AAA her flesh Is In rags her flesh come undone her ass offered wide the moss comforts with my thrusts Lord, forgive my sins an' take 'em back make ter live so I’may ki11 again sin spits forth like a vulgar stream unclean, I rellve the most tragic of scenes and offer up in atonement I lick with my knife In the feast of her blood and I will write my new name in blood unknown shall be known and none shall forget i this prayer of saints in a painfest of death MARK HEUNAR Cexcerpt from ‘Whisky DIk') 1 couldn't get through, no matter how hard I hit her. My arm all brown and up her ass, she squealed, but I couldn't get a real rise. ‘Put yer cock in ‘ner mouth," he said and I did. She sucked good enough with him orchestratin' the whole thing, playin’ God, poundin® up and down, dictating his fancy. She just layed there. She must've awakened black and blue with blood from her ass, scabs on her breast and a face like a wound. Her neck achin' from when I pulled her head back, further'n further, swirlin’ and stickin' my tongue round'n round. Her darkened eye. He told fer not to cry not to bleed and she shut right up. But no matter how deep I went I couldn't get inside, and I thought how dirty this realization made me. Ugly acceptance. TIMARK HEUNAR_ 10 MELD LLL TALL TATA SHACKLED With thelr pouting fresh looks and fine glabrous legs and ripe- nippled tits, just tell me they don't want to be fucked!--Beauty Is made to be defiled, just as an exquisitely-presented meal Is created to be devoured. . That feminine puissance, that fragrant flesh blossoming: besmirch it and befoul it and trample it shred it mangle it and bless it with the triumphant hideousness of scars irrep- arable! mutilate! let blood flow! let if flow!--stain the polished floors with thick red juice and howl,--howl at the banquet of desecration! The sacred Icons must be obliterate: chritude! Abominations! Abominat ton: free! An end to all this pul- -Set us free! Set us GOMEZ ROBESPIERRE MATL LTA LTT PATHOS AND WISHES The smooth legs of whores always make me think of magical vessels that will carry away my numb ceaseless nightmares, -- carry away the ache of nameless shadows and their flickering caustic fangs. . Fucking these soft somewhat-slightly-bruised young creatures Is @ much-welcome relief to the unending phantasmagorical freakshow eternally on display. Her glabrous thigh, her ululation of ecstasy, her sweat & the first bolt of my hot jit,-- Sunlight upon this miserable dreamer. GOMEZ ROBESPIERRE TITTLE SHE By M. Kettner My car disintegrated around me. I found myself beside a sprawling, wooden apartment building with shingled siding, its yellow paint chipped and faded. The structure was at the sharp intersection of two dusty, deserted streets without sidewalks. The manager showed me to my room, beneath a rock band and next door to the retired murderer. I'd like it here, he said. We then took a brief ride in his car to where the city turned to country to feel each other's genitals. When I returned, I found my room had moved downstairs. My back door was also the back door for the building, so day and night roomers were passing through my apartment. To work, home, to gatherings, with their kids, their friends. Of course no one tried to speak with me; it would be impolite and might disturb my privacy. 4n old, brown Chevy with its vinyl top peeling away in strips pulled up outside my door and I got in. There was no driver, so I sat in the passenger's seat. We drove several miles along one-way streets past sparsely populated parking lots, small businesses and residences, their fences and front steps only inches from the curb. I caught a cold, but upon returning to my room was better. I went to the bathroom, where no one would speak to me. A fat, ugly man reeking of cologne wanted to have sex. I had to say no by running away. As I did so, his eyes changed to sad pennies. I could not return to my room; the man was waiting for me with his haunted sexuality. So a woman who claimed to be my girlfriend let me move in with her. It was SHE. She was no one I could remember, she assured me. When I woke up, she would be gone. Until then she'd always be by my side. We made love and, when finished, she disappeared, I took a shower. When I emerged, the fat, ugly man sat waiting on the toilet cover. This time we made love. I stroked his massive buttocks and took his penis in my mouth. We became lovers. Kissing, our bed was smothered in moonlight, vhile tenants outside our door went up and down the creaky, wooden steps. We never left the room, threw our clothes out the window, and vowed eternal love as if we had some kind of control over fate. One morning I woke up, it was still dark, and SHE was beside me. We made Jove. But when I moaned too loudly she cautioned, "S-s-shh-h, the dream isn't over yet. When I avoke again, I was in a new room and all the tenants in the building were different. I thought the woman next door was SHE, but didn't dare ask. That evening when I saw the fat, ugly man returning from work and enter the apartment, I knew it had been SHE. I went for a ride in the driverless Chevy past rows of unoccupied parking meters and gas stations with cobwebs. I wanted to return but the car wouldn't let me, and had to show me the rest of the town with its infernal one-way streets. i SHE by M. Kettner Back at my apartment my room was now on the top floor. As usual the streets were deserted whenever I glanced out the windows, and whenever I turned away the sounds and smells returned.... There was a knock at my door. I opened it, and it was SHE. She didn't seem to recognize or know me. She had only noticed me that morning and had felt an overpowering urge to meet. We made love every afternoon for a month. Until the other lodgers found out and drove the couple from the building. I went for a ride with the manager to where we could watch the clouds on the mountains and feel each other's genitals. When I returned, I found my room was the same. Which meant the dream must be nearing its end. I waited and waited. I was only allowed out of the building for rides in the driverless Chevy. Tenants consoled me in the hallway, and said they were leaving their pets out-of-doors in sympathy. When SHE finally appeared, it was not ‘the same voice, body, or eyes. It was only when we made love, I knew for sure it was SHE. She made the snakes in front of my eyes dance and held me firmly as a checkbook. I asked her, "What happens now?" All-knowing she replied, "Nothing. And the dream ended. NUDIST VEGETARIANS FOR CHRIST remember the first time i saw you naked in church eating salad i dropped my robe and knelt beside you and took a big bite out of a ripe juicy tomato DAN NIELSEN FOOD FOR THOUGHT Her nipples pierce thru the blouse and like a mouse with a piece of cheese I nibble away. She grows excited throws her arms over her head and spreads her legs. I make a tongue sandwich and devour her from every side here comes the mayo! Juan E. Wadd nev ° UPON PLEASURE ** er fart her away than a ston Long probe e's throw fr } Into your om itself. pit: ; Center cher as well : other people 5 of being, as catcher. :. might have sex Pleasure | expecting se Upon Pemicy ce te Wis Pe Pleasure. leery’ of cal A Fire, loused hands. : salty navy Sweet tension a sk : foul weather jackets? Thrill i-pole held : as we together ieWigece, enue anound melt tape.///the t oe Z Inte a wo of them‘! market in Single wait on the |! pretending they are :: Body. bed, he and i Beneath his @recti +: Capt queeg time, soft on. emerging P Love. And frome thamepay ogee s cou ii Then we throom _ for i change him, the. th Positions ‘zee of her. As you wish ///the night To Take surrounds him, ‘and his hand. he can only feel what he * i" is doing, — under the sheets. his le Advantage Of my now Hard Desire. And we Become : A single ft hand raises the Thought . covers, out of the An Act way. it's 50 go OF Love. tod, but his arm is Pleasure growing tired. he must Upon leave the steaming temple Pleasure. soon-///gay bar throbs with 3 music, like a hard-on_ in KEN STONE ds tight pants. man passing en? :i!iiiiiiiitity : ters. he has, always wanted i to do - this, just try it once. but no one. approaches or speaks to him. it's. a‘lmost like the y know. and after a wh : ile, he leaves. WALT Paiecie ‘THE REVIEW MAN ‘BY RODNEY LEIGHTON Well, I have received a couple of things to review since the last issue. Cheryl Townsend, AKA the Cat, sent me 2 bunch of stuff. MALE NUMBER TWO is a special edition of IMPETUS and has something in. the order of 58 poems out of which there were only about three I couldn't stand, which is some sort of a record. All poems written by men on the theme of maleness. Also some reviews and art bits. Send $4.00 to Cheryl A. Townsend, 4975 Comanche Trail, Stow, OH 44224, WHISKEY COMA BLUES by Roger Edrington is a chapbook published by Implosion Press and costs $2.00. I gather you can get all the Implosion Press chaps with a subscription to IMPETUS, so write to Cheryl for more information. WHISKEY COMA BLUES has a dozen poems of which the one reprinted in MALE #2, "Beyond Sex", is the best. "Hungover & Stupid" was great until the last five lines. WOT,WET SEX by Ron Androla is also two bucks from Implosion Press. It numbers in at 16 poems about sex and other things. I wasn't too impressed with this one MY LIPS by Cheryl Townsend is available from Vergin Press, P.O. Box 370322, El Paso, TX 79937 for $1.75. What .a lustful and lust inspiring lady. There are 13 poems here, including a centerpiece’ which made me want a piece. This lady produces lust in others. IN 69, she has Ron Androla horny and on his half of this double shot, he spends some time making love to her in print. On the other side, Cat writes more erotic stuff and includes a picture, which well, no I won't say what it made me think of. There are 17 pieces, oops, now you know! from Cat. No price on this one. Published by Zerx Press, 318 4th Ave., Salt Lake City, UT, 84103. CAT & WHITE BOY UP A TREE comes in a baggie and contains three booklets: a White Boy booklet dedicated to Cat called Cat Licks White Boy, and a booklet of alternating poems, and Cat Gets The Lowdown On White Boy which is a strange little thing. A nice concept and a nice package. Another mice concept is the serialized novel being written by Stephanie du Plessis, P.O. Box 4697, San Francisco, CA 94101. It's a buck an issue or 6 issues for 5 bucks. This is a wildly hilarious account of a fictional (I hope!) family best described as white trash. The five spot will get you all that's out currently plus the next one. Everybody should have a set. THE BLACKLIST is available for a few stamps from Placebo Press, P.O. Box 1417, Salt Lake City, UT 84101. Poetry, artwork, prose. A miniature version of ASH, although different. FACTSHEET FIVE has raised their price again. Worth every penny. It's now $3.50 for a single copy from 6 Arizona Ave., Rensselaer, NY 12144. In #40, Mike is back to his normal calm pace and Cari has more to do (Yippee!) and Jacob is either restrained or FINALLY found some stuff he liked. It is a joy to read reviews from Cari, she so obviously loves doing this stuff. If you publishers aren't sending your stuff to them for review--WHY THE HELL NOT??? David has graciously allowed me some free advertising for my new projects. So let me tell you about them. I have decided to resurrect my reviewzine. Will change it around a bit and call it THE NEW LEIGHTON LOOK. I will review everything so send me copies of your publication the same day you send stuff to FACTSHEET FIVE. I also have a bunch of other projects undervay or in the works. I have put together a ten page thing called ROD'S PROJECTS which talks about most of them as well as my new account system. One project is a wrestling bulletin, one is an audio project of reviews c/w short as excerpts which will be on tape. A copy of ROD'S PROJECTS can be had for a S.A.E, and a stamp or two or some change or something. Don't put the stamps on, I can't use them tha way. Send requests to Rodney Leighton, R.R.#3, Pugwash, Nova Scotia, Canada BOK 1L0 Two projects in the very earliest of stages might be of interest to ASH contributors/readers. One project I have in mind is called STORY TIME and will be, if i happens, 2 90 minute audio tape of short stories read by the author or people of their choice. I plan to charge $5 for the finished tape. The format will be a bit of a song. an intro by me, a story, a bit of song and intro and so on, Anyone interested in this concept is invited to submit any stories, I suggest using decent quality 90 minute tape which are reusable. In my account system such tapes are, worth 2 bucks and each story used is worth a debit of $3.00. Ergo, each story used, on good tape, nets you a copy of th issue of STORY TIME. THE POETRY CORNER will be the same thing with two differences. Well, three. It will b poetry instead of short stories. Price will be $6.00 and poems that are used will be worth a buck each. I am not sure of the time factor here or if I will use whatever sort of material I ge or try and separate stories/poems into certain areas. As for instance, should poetry containing sexual terms and connotations be included on a tape with poems about religion Anyone who submits anything is invited to voice your opinion. Each issue will include @ paper listing authors and addresses. Copyright remains with the authors. I am NOT really thinking about doing any publishing of short stories/poetry on paper. However, if I ge any, maybe. If you want more details send for ROD'S PROJECIS or for that matter give m a call at 902-243-2882. Many thanks to David for the free advertising! You are most welcome Rodney and bést of luck with your new projects. The Poetry Corner sounds interesting and I'll be sending you a tape as soon as this issue is put to bed (some folks want me to put it to sleep). TRUTH _IN ADVERTISING babies too weak to cry or suckle turn to thelr mothers too sick to nourish your heart goes out you send money your gift may buy caviar for preachers gas for the exec Rolls inflated salaries of fund raisers but you trust a few cents of your dollars will make it there buy food survive the sand and Black Market then filtering down finally a few babies will be fed and you can sleep BELINDA SUBRAMAN TTT TAAL TAAL ALL TITTLE WILDING by Ken Wagner A late August sunset cast an orange glow across the mid-size Southside park. Carrying a six-pack of beer, The Kid stumbled awkwardly toward the far corner. At their usual spot, on the lone picnic table, under a tree, the gang sat scrutinizing him. "Who the hell 1s that?! Dave gaped. Neal crushed thelr empty beer carton with his fist. "I don't know, but It looks like he gots some beer, and we're out." John stood, stamping his foot against the table seat. "If it's a weasel, I wanna beat his head Inj I feel like beatin someone's head int" Sean hopped from his seat, squinting to get a better look. "Me too, man - I'm bored. John smacked his palm against the tree. "He best watch what he says to me - I feel like poundin' on someone." Sean booted the tin garbage can in agreement. Neal stretched. "I don't know if ya oughtta go but we'll definitely run a good game on ‘im, cool Grudgingly, they shrugged. "Mind if Thang out here with you guys?" The Gang all gandered at The Kid. He was on the tall side, but not tall. He was wearing brand-new denim jeans, and a spiffy green football Jersey. The gang wore faded jeans, and shredded t-shirts. His hair was dirty blond, and his face, entirely unlike theirs, had a certain ignorant Innocence about it. Neal cracked a smile. "Ya gonna share y'er beer?" "Oh, you guys ain't got none? "Don't answer my questions with questions! I asked, are ya gonna share y'er beer?!" The Kid's face was pearl white. "Sure I'll share; no problem." John ripped the six-pack from The Kid's hand. "That's good - I for one am damned glad to hear it!" John tossed a beer to each of the other four, took one himself, turned to The Kid. "I suppose you want one, too?! "It is my beer..." John sent the last can spiralling at The Kid. He fumbled nervously to catch the spinning can, but dropped it. He bent to pick it up off the grass, and sat with it at the table. The others swooped In: It was time to play. ‘a know Who we are?" Neal snarled. Who are you?" Sean sneered, "is 'at all you can do questions?!" A ripple of laughter shook the muggy alr. "We're Bad," Dave Informed. "What makes you think you're bad enough to hang with us?" "Haven't you guys heard about me?" John howled, "another question with a question! One more time, and I'll rip your lower 11p of fi!" The Kid groped for composure. "My picture was In the paper. I went to jail for attacking police dogs. Neal's eyes bugged, "what?" John mocked, "you gotta be kiddin'!" undin' on tim, answer questions with TELLTALE AAA AAA TAA 18 TELLTALE STALL AAT AA LAA ATLA TTA LLT ATAA WILDING "It's true. The cops had me cornered In a alley and they sent their dogs In after me and I kicked thelr butts.” “But why were the cops after ya?" Sean asked "Cause I'm crazy..." Ben spoke for the first time. "I heard something about that. Read it in the paper. So you're the one?" The Kid bowed proudly. "So," Dave went on, “that's why you think you're bad?" "Dam rite." A wave of laughter rattled the park Sean sucked down the last of his beer. "I best hope ya got some more beer money." The Kid pulled out his wallet, opening it, revealing a large wad of cash. "Don't worry, I got plenty a money. See." Everybody wide-eyed saw alright. "I'11 go back over to that store and buy some more." He rose heading across the grass for the store on the other side of the street from the park. "Buy a twelve-pack The Kid waved. “He won't be back," Neal predicted “What a jerk, huh?" Dave sniggered. “He won't be back," Neal repeated "He best not come back," Sean declared. "I don't like him. If back, I think I'll kick his teeth In - just for fun." John agreed. "If he does come back, I will kick his teeth in, like I said from the start Ben threw his empty can Into the trash. "I don't know... I saw that article in the paper. It sald he attacked the dogs like he was a dog..." "What "He acted like he was a dog, and used his teeth to go after their throats." "You gotta be puttin’ us on!" Neal bawled. Ben shook his head, no. Mell, I don't care." Sean kicked his foot high into the air. "one a these an’ he won't have no teeth left to come after me with!" John frowned. "If he's crazy, why's he on the streets?" Ben shrugged. "must not be too crazy, I guess..." Dave threw his empty can toward the trash and missed. "You see all the cash he gots? Neal tilted his head. "Yeah. I wonder where he got it?" "LOOK!" Sean gawked. "He's comin' back!" All eyes swung to the store. Daylight was nearly gone, streetlights were cutting on, as The Kid wandered their way, carrying a twelve-pack of beer. When he made it back to the table the gang tore into the box. Sean and Dave took a few extra cans and stashed them In the bushes for later Neal snapped his can open. "I'm surprised ya came back." "I thought you guys wanted me to come back..." wanted you to come back," Dave assured. Me too!" Sean reassured. Ben leanded near The Kid. "That was your chance to get away "My chance to get away from what?" " Dave ordered. he TILT TAAL ATTA LALLA 19 TLE LLL L i LETT TTT TT ATTA. WILDING vohn shrieked in The Kid's face: "To get away from us - you moron!" "Why would I wanna get away from you guys? You guys are cool. a know," vohn stepped back. “We ain't never actually killed Ro one before, but y'er lookin’ to be our first." The Kid beamed playfully. "He's serious," Ben kidded ou ain't afraid?" Dave asked. "Why should I be afraid?" John lurched at The Kid. Neal held him back “What's wrong with him? Stl1l holding John, Neal replied, "he done warned ya that if ya answered another question with a question he'd rip y'er lower lip off." "I thought he was kidding." le wasn't kidding!" Dave growled. "Don't do it again. Now, answer the question!" hat was the question again?" vohn was on fire. "He's askin’ for it!" He looked around at the faces. "Ain't he askin for 1t?" "He's definitely askin' for It," Sean concurred ‘ou ain't afraid?" Dave repeated. ain't got no reason to be afra Neal was amused. "Yeah, Kid; why's 'at?" "Cause I know karate.’ "You know karate?" John scowled. The Kid nodded. "Hey! What's you guys'es name anyway?" The Gang eyeballed one another wearing smirks Neal put his hand on Sean's shoulder. "This here's Don Juan.” "What kind of work do ya do, Don’ Neal answered, "ain't none of us here got jobs, ‘cept Luke Skytalker over there;" he was pointing at Ben. He then pointed to Dave's bowl halr-cut and jelly beer-gut, "that there's Mack Kelly. And the last one over there," pointing to John's stout bulld, "is Billy Kidder. And I'm B. Ceegar Booper..." "Nice to meet you guys. I'm Walter. So, what kind a Job ya got, Luke? Ben forgot that he was supposed to be Luke. "Luke?" Neal elbowed Ben. Huh?" I asked, what kind a Job do ya got? "Oh. I'm a dishwasher at Antonio's. Neal's eyes smacked The Kid's face. what Kind of work do you do?" TELLTALE How "bout you, Walter; "I ain't gotta do no work - they jus' gimme checks for bein’ crazy." Sean's eyes were wide, "jus' for bein' crazy? "yep." “How come y'er not locked up if y'er crazy?" "Gots somethin’ to do with my Institutional Rights. They can't keep me locked up, especially ‘cause I'm crazy vohn checked the cardboard carton. "We're outta beer again, ya gonna buy some more?" 20 TTL LLL LALLA LLL STAT TAAL TTA TATA AAA AAA AAA STAT TTT ALAA AAA ALALALAALTA 7 WILDING "We're outta beer already?" John's fist flew, cracking The Kid's crown, hurling him from his seat, onto his back In the grass “Why'd ya do that?" ‘He warned you again and again not to answer his questions with questions," Ben explained: “And especially not if I ask the questio "Sorry about that. I forgot." "Are you gonna buy some more beer? The Kid climbed to his feet. "I'll be right back." And off he went. Buy a case this time!" Dave ordered, then lowered his voice. "we already gotta six stashed in the bushes." They laughed. "Damn," Sean moaned, "I shouldda been crazy when I had the chance I didn't know It was worth so much money..." MWhat'do'ya mean, when ya had the chance?" Neal walled. "Ya can be crazy any time ya want. All ya gotta do is decide to be Crazy, concentrate on it, and the next thing ya know; BINGO! you'll be crazy." Myou already are crazy!" Dave scoffed. "We all are! The only difference between us and him is he gets checks for It and we don't. Pisses me off, too. I gotta sit around, outta work, with nothin', and they just glve him checks for bein' crazy. I tell ya, it pisses me off..." "] think he really is crazy, though," Ben said. "I saw it in the paper." What? Just because he attacked a couple a police dogs with his teeth?" Dave barked. "I could do that too, If someone wanted to pay me for ttemyelWennal pay) me?) cilia dit tool at vel) yay, it pisses me off!" "You see me deck the jerk Ben rolled his eyes, "no, John, we missed it. ‘He don't know no karate," Sean taunted. "Tt wasn't cool to punch him," Ben criticized. "Tt wasn't cool to tell ‘Im y'er real Job!" Dave scorned Why? What does it matter?" "In case we roll ‘im... RoI] him?-We're Just messing with his head John's chest protruded like a rooster's. "We were Just messin with his head - ‘tll we found out he knows karate? now I'm gonna kick his head int" MMe too!" Sean bobbed. "I wanna kick his head in, too!" "gut I wanna kick his head In," Dave contended nyoutl] have to walt 'ti1 after I'm done." "and after I'm done." “But then there won't be nothin! left." "Too bad!" "Yeah, too bad!" Me won't come back," Ben predicted. The Kid came back carrying a case of beer. It was dark, and the streetlights were completely Tit as The Kid's silhouette trudged across the park. Immediately upon his return, Sean and Dave started stealing cans, stashing them In the bushes. 21 TITTLE LATTA LITT TTL TALL SILLA ATTA LTA ALAA AAA TTT LLL TAT LLL. WILDING "You're a fool," Ben told The Kid. "Why do ya say that, Luke? "For one thing, these guys are broke - they don't like people buying their way in with them, and for another thing, they especially don't like people mouthing-off about knowing karate." “But I do know karate! And you listen here, Luke - I don't buy my way in with nobody - these guys obviously like me." "T hope you do know karate, because you may need It. "You guys make me laugh! Hey, ya wanna arm wrestle? Sean jumped into the seat across from The Kid. arm wrestle? Ben, er - Luke, I mean, you be ref." The others moved In tight to see. The Kid put his elbow on the table, with his hand In the air, as he stared securely Into Sean's eyes. Sean snickered and put his elbow onto the table, too. They locked thumbs. The Kid raised his elbow, turning his hand upside down to get a better grip. Sean did the same. The Kid did It again. Sean did It again. “Are you gonna arm wrestle, or play musical thumbs?" They started again, locking thumbs In the air, then simultaneously setting their elbows on the table. Ben wrapped his palm over their interlocked hands. "Ready?" Yep." Yeah." One. Two, Three. Go!" A throbbing wave of tension burst between their arms. The Kid turned his wrist on the snap. "Come on Sean, er, ah - DON! Come on!" Their hands were immobile upright straining. The Kid was cool, with an antagonizing gaze fixed on Sean. Sean's face quivered with pain. The Kid made his move. He began slowly pushing Sean's arm down. "Come on, Don! Don't let him do it! Come on!™ Bit by bit, Sean's arm was forced closer to the table surface. "Come on, Don; don't let that wimp beat yo Sean's hand banged limply against the table. "No fair! He beat me on the snap! I wanna rematch! "Ya had y'er turn," Dave bumped Sean out of the way taking his seat. "It's my turn." Dave locked thumbs with The Kid. They set their elbows on the table. Dave wasn't happy with the grip; they started over Yeah! Let's Ben encircled their clasped hands with his palm. "Ready?" "Yep." "Ready?" Dave gave a slight tip of his head. "One. Two. Three. G They heaved violently on the snap. The Kid managed again to turn his wrist first. "Come on Mack! Come on!" The Kid was cool. Dave struggled desperately. The Kid began easing Dave's hand toward defeat. "Mack! Dave! No!" The Kid slapped Dave's hand down. "You cheated!" "I did not!" Who's next? How ‘bout you, Luke?” John screamed, "I'm next!" "OK. Come on..." "No! None a this arm wrestling crap. I wanna spar!" "Spar?" "Yeah, spar. You say you know karate, so do I; let's spar." TTL TAA AAA 22 TELAT TATA AAA SATA AAA A 1S SITLL LATTA ATT ALATA LAA AAA AAA AAA AAA TELLTALE WILDING The Kid was shaken, but rose to his feet, took a few steps away from the table, and faced John. Sean slithered in behind The Kid. Dave ripped a board off the picnic table, and stood at The Kid's side. The three formed a triangle behind him. The Kid looked nervously behind, Sean regarded him with an Intent expression. The Kid turned to John, who flashed a vicious smile. The Kid turned to, his side, Dave raised the board into the There was a tense moment of silence. "Go ahead," The Kid sald, addressing Dave with the board. "Yter s'posed to be fightin’ me! John yelled. "I thought we were sparring?" Sean leaned back on one leg, sent a foot flashing Into the base of The Kid's skull. The Kid fell off-balance toward John. Dave clubbed The Kid with the board, causing his face to jolt back, while his body leaned heavily forward, leaving his wind pipe open. John fired a half-closed fist chopping The Kid's throat. The kid wrapped his hands around his neck. Sean put a foot into The Kid's lower back. The Kid fell to his knees. The board thumped hard across his shoulders, shoving his face fast at the grass. Before his face hit the grass, John's foot took a bite of his nose. A shock wave rippled through The Kid's body, as he collapsed onto his side. John smashed a heel Into his temple; The Kid squirmed like a cut-In-half worm. Sean's toes jabbed a rib; The Kid's body arched painfully. The board smashed his upper back several times, causing a wincing motion with each blow. vohn strolled nonchalantly to the table, taking a seat, as he picked up his beer, and chugged a guzzle. Sean snatched his beer, joining John. Dave tossed the board aside, wiping halr out of his eyes, got his beer, and dropped to a seat in the grass. They felt a lot better. Ben hesitantly approached The Kid, and knelt beside him. The Kid's face was smeared with deep red blood. His nose was shaped like an 'S'. His eyes were blackened. But he was conscious. "I thought you know karate?" "I do. Neal helped Ben lift The Kid to hls feet. "Ya know where the hospital Is?" "Yeah. why?" "'Cause that's where ya need to go..." "But I wanna hang out here with you guys - you guys are cool." "Cool? - They just beat you up!" "So what? People beat me up all the times it's no big deal." "Don't ya understand, y'er not wanted here?" "But I thought you guys liked me?” "You need to go to the hospital." "What about my beer?" "Forget y'er beer. Be happy ya still got y'er money.” They aimed The Kid at the store, gave him a nudge, then quietly observed his progress. His silhouette staggered uneasily over the park lawn, approaching the lighted street. He made It, stopped for a moment looking up and down the road seemingly confused, turned the way to the hospital, and disappeared. The End TILT LLL ATLA TAA ALD SMTA ATTATTAAAA TT AAAALTALAAAAAATAAATAAA AAAAAT AA 25, THE NATURAL Duke was big and burly and chewed tobacco. He ran the threading machine at the mill. But he had no lead in his pencil. Ooh, baby, he could talk it to ‘em, but he couldn't. take it to tem. After work, we'd go down to the Swamproom and shoot pool. Usually Duke had someone meeting him, but it was usually somebody new everytime. ‘He said he was just quick and kept movin". Duke liked funky music and riding ferris wheels. One day a carnival came to town and set up on Safeway's parking lot. Duke could handle stuff like that, breaking three beer bottles with one softball, etc. One night he got hooked up with Angel. She could really groove. Seem's she got ol Duke's flaps up and took him for a real ride. The next day, Duke was quiet, smiling a lot to himself. He even winked at me. I liked Duke. He was alright. Maybe he could teach me something after all. ERROL MILLER QUIZ TIME THE LADY KILLER I gave the dictionary as a young man to my man and asked how do you spell dildo? I can't find it he was in awe of the female anatomy & was especially taken with the notion of cunnilingus he asked his tongue yodeling are you writing dirty poems up vulva canyons again? lapping its way around I said no a lewd circle of sultry but he didn't believe me he put his finger on the page and sald here use this one dik dik it's an African antelope about a foot tall that's close enough sirens but now at the age of 50 the tide had changed & he fucked them with his rifle ramming the cold barrel into them one after the other as he climaxed Into each with the squeeze of the trigger. Belinda Subraman RONALD EDWARD KITTELL 26 WORDS TO A_YOUNGIN' “Each leaf wriggles in the breeze, do you see?--Each leaf is. . . well, waving. . . like a hand,--do you see?" Speaking to my young nephew. "Each leaf is alive, a liv- ing thing.--Beauty. Connected to the branches and, con- sequently, to the other leaves and the whole of the tree. And the tree's roots are entrenched in the soil, the same soil that other trees grow out of. So this tree is, in essence, connected with so many other trees and plants, and--and--you see, everything Is Ineluctably marvel lously magically interconnected and Interrelated!--You see? The universe.--it is the way of Nature! It is the way of God! Do you see the beauty In It all? Do you?!" "That girl, Tina, she sucks dick for five bucks," he said. "You got two bits you can ‘lend me? Huh?" The leaves continued to wave. I sighed and fished in my pockets for some change. The leaves continued to wave, joyously, stupidly, joyously. GOMEZ ROBESPIERRE PUSS £ BOOTS & TOM Hi! My name is Puss. I'm a big nervous female cat. Sometimes I get a little tired of People pushing me around, interfering with my love life. I was In love with Tom, who llved down the street. He was strong and sleek. He could really make me purr in the dark between houses. I needed Tom. I loved Tom. When People would play thelr radio, "Straight From The Heart" would come on, and we would slip off to the storage room for fun and games. I didn't worry about the rules, especially the one People made up about cats that they were only supposed to fool around at night. I wanted to hold on to Tom forever, right or wrong, through every one of our nine lives. But Tom went away. One day I saw People loading him up in their Good Times van. That was the end of it. Tom was gone. I had a total eclipse of the heart. Then I met Boots. Of course, he isn't Tom. He licks my fur at night, but he doesn't have a V-8 motor like Tom did. And his breath always smells like tuna fish. But he is sorta nice, even though he and Tom are worlds apart. He Keeps me warm, but he doesn't show me much love. In my world, People have caused heartache and pain. That's why I pee on their rugs and scratch their furniture. In time I may get even. ERROL MILLER I$ A HEALTHY FOOD, CATS LIKE IT. Su Biseests?10c. packare. Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does Let the female cat run; the tomcat will catch her. ‘any harm to ask for what you want. GERMAN PROVERD. JOSEPH WOOD KRUTCH ATT HARTA LALLA, 28 TTT TO) Some poets presume metaphor as ///), $98_posts presume metaphor as TUM I/]], Sticks and stones--the Neanderthal WILLETTE LLL T1111 1/I/, mind. Imaginary gardens with My Tn Wii: Live toads. Robert Graves took his am- —/////I . o He “ erican Gold Medal to a "majorcan" = HN, WH a MIE I/]], Assayist. It burned his ass it was only ///////I| i711 JI], 12K--he expected they would break a ‘ RETIN 111) the vaults of Fort Knox to mint a medar — J////////%) (i Wi}li for the famous "poet of love" Robert G.— /H///I/H ae 1/1, Yet this man mistrusted and disavowed | SMAI 1/1], psilocybin for fear of getting the hots /////// yess 1/111 for all these naked Caryatids of his vapid it ae Wid) Geseed “haetanaa noostepaaTicn ni eat: 7) Edsel was a “real 1emon--color by WHHL WMI yf sunk ist / ay ivingietcd SV 111111) Wi) J/1/] SUDSON CREWS 1 UMA MUTT HOLT I JI/] 1 think of that warped child, Emily NINE J/1]] who knew far more, perchance, than my JIT y ever will ~ yet did not know enough MHI WII even by half. ‘Doubtlessly she forgave — 1/111) TU) Wer adulterous brother. But did she ever j4/)i/ VIII even half conceive the true wholeness Hut JI). o€ the divided heart, and divided cunt A MIN of Eheunne lopboreted avon iirstenes! i /II/], The wholeness In halfness of Emily's poems /4///7//// 11, TTTTATTIITINITHAAE III], and willed them Into print HILLEL LIT TLITELIT ELIT WN TTA: 1/111) SUDSON CREWS TAT TTL LTT TLL LULL LLL LLL TLL TITTY UTIL UAT I/II] Considering that the very breath in WHA TLL HUI wy chest offends him, what should pre- {///1I/1 mnt MH NY, Rare Sprade WM HN WHI vent him from sliding a knife-blad WHHL WTI HHH getween my ribs? How is he to know 1 am //////1 UNI HW i aj 5 HU ML WNL ® light-skinned robust Gandhi in a TL TINT HHH ewer cap and no name. on a Soctal MMI I WMT ; ? a MAME SEIN WINNT Security card? So much for the wisdom ///////1""t a WML of Buddha MI 3 PH) JL. MTN THT JHM11], Judson Crews Wires LTT THU TTL LTT PATTI TATTLE TUTTLE ELL ALLLLL ELLA LLL, eS NO WORKING TITLE FOR 1-1 The world seemed to spin A little Faster today with the War 9 mand Me waking up on a hard wood floor. Wondering if she would make a good Girlfriend--I mean, does she enjoy Sledding? > I got up to take a s and when I looked into the Bathtub It was all white and I said mysel I'm not going out tonight. ROB TREINEN TODO_SE_QUEMA What facts were left after that thought or was the day a fact like smoke swirls in a drain? My headache's cause's my headache never mind coughing in a chair four days. Its pain is this house, dim like the ice burning down JOHN M. BENNETT IN NOMINE CYCLUS What horse like lumber falls in my brain's artery, lakes of laundry, galloping a field of veins? What courses like thunder walls my pain's lottery, gates of gallantry, walloping a shield of rain? What forces my sundered balls to gain these tawdry cakes, like a phalanx slobbering the Wheel's name? JOHN M. BENNETT WHEN THE WIVES OF ATET EXECUTIVES EMERGED FROM THEIR UNDERGROUND SHELTERS morning fingered wreckages on a broken landscape smoke coiled above craters. TTT aaT the stench of bodies snarled sme11s: speaking of death beneath the wound of sun. no birds sang BAGBGLELERRLEEREGELEM! and a few tired eyes wondered at the newly formed rubble. minds opened to the stray rattle of wind, wires shook noise from a strangely standing pole; softly, slowly all sounds ceased silence frightened the rich! HARLAND RISTAU DUSGDLGELUSEMEMGSGGEASGGGSLGEGEEGGGELEGL! = = = = GOOD HELP CAN BE HARD TO FIND broken dreams tied up in neat packages, stored in the attic downstairs, the maid vacuums up fragments of love not to be found In any tomorrow: all the I might haves are in the bin of today, but at least things are neat: what's life without a tidy house? HARLAND RISTAU AbLBABLBRGGELLOSSLLESLEGELEGERLELLS! CELE TTI TP I ET eee eee eet ees 31 WALT PHILIPS: TT TT TT TT TT TT TT TE TT AT AT TT TT AT AT AT TE TT AAT AT TT TT TTT TT TT TT TT RIGHT TO THE END By Gregory Nymai She said I'd miss her when she was gone and strangely enough, I do. She was right of course, just like everything else and it still pisses me off. Being right was her passion. She majored in it, just like truth, logic and correctness. Falsehood and innuendo were her enemies, although it didn't prevent her from gossiping about the faults of others. Mary was just that kind of girl. If she didn't think of it first, it never happened. Strange ideas and thoughts bothered her, even intimidated her. Maybe that's why I never shared my feelings with her. Why after fifteen years of marriage, we hardly knew each other. Don't get me wrong, we shared all the basic feelings of trust and fidelity, but there was a lack of real honesty in our relationship. At least from my perspective. Te didn't take long for me to recognize her intolerance, and I quickly learned to agree with her that my thoughts were foolish or simply foreign to normal thinking people. My upbringing vas her first area of attack and she didn't mince words when it came to family. Sure, I was the product of my parents’ beliefs, I said. Everyone was, but I wasn't going to be held accountable for their influence on my life. So what If I thought playing with my belly button made me faint, or if chewing milk was the proper way of nutrition. Mary said it was a silly and idiotic defense, and after a few heated arguments, I agreed to agree with her to maintain domestic tranquility. She hated to argue. I tried in vain to convince her that what she viewed as argument was only a healthy exchange of ideas, but she wouldn't listen. The silent treatment usually settled the matter. I've often wondered if her parents! divorce had anything to do with her intense hatred for argument. ‘As our marriage blossomed, Mary prided herself in our compatability. We still had our disagreements, but as she spoke to her friends, I'd often hear her tell them how happy we were. How we never fought. Never argued. Never sunk to the level of baseness and coarseness of speech. We were happy, she said, because we were better educated and aware, not like the other peasants of the conmmity. It was peace, love, and the utter abhorrence of violence all the way. She didn't have to die. I told her that, but she was insistent on her opinion. Said I should've known that. I tried telling her we didn't talk about what really mattered, and everytime we did, she took it personally. Like I meant to hurt her or something. I loved her, I said, even if she didn't always see it, but she didn't believe me. She never believed me, and during her last hours, she was right again. It happened quickly, right after she hung up the phone. I listened to her rant and rave about my family again. Their stupid ideass their foolishness; how she hated visting them. She laughed, joked and poked cruel fun at them. After she was finished I told her she had no right advertising my family's faults to her friends. She said I was stupid to defend them. Hadn't I learned anything, she asked. Just because they were my family didn't make them right, she said. So what, said. So fuck off, she said. ‘The violence came swiftly. RIGHT TO THE END by Gregory Nyman KEEP COMING UP He haunts my too slow black Idiom of house slippers and I pick up the guilt rift of a moment + + + but he spins bird songs . . my art is drinking in bars without having a bartender waiting on me and this lover looks like Zapata with a betrayed jock but we talked out the knots it's not above me nor below me to fantasize that If you see me as the Impressed imperialist an oppressed girl clawing her way out of Malaysia and waking up in Villa Park the first fifties junkie whose Lenny Bruce battered daddy murdered shade trees because of mother's weak lemonade a beastly Briton but not my daddy the man with the collapsed stars in his crotch my lover the diamond who smells of dust and after all was said and was done what's your name, I asked I'm Reuben Kierkegaard for the public EXIA JoJo] J-J-]-J-]-J-J-J-J-]-]-]-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-J-)-)-J-)--)-)-)-1--)-)-1-1-1-)-1-1- ASSASSIN A magic city is the residence of a plastic toy horse who lives in the tall spiky weeds. He tells us dirty jokes and buys us beer from the Thrifty-Mart. He rides my sister in the sky. He has seen all the frivolous television shows and can recite, verbatim, the dialogue. We are endorsing him for mayor.--I am the campaign chairman. Promises of free disposable syringes to all. And better road- ways--gadzooks! the potholes finally fixed! A live televised debate We will not speak of the opponent's alleged indiscretion with a fourteen-year-old retarded boy. A live televised debate. Throngs- Eager, their ears not thirsty enough, however, for the eagle's solemn nod. And then his piercing indifference. Shadowy figure In the crowd finger on the trikker and he focus- es, lines up the sights right-square between his equine GOMEZ ROBESPIERRE Jed) )-1-1- 9-1 -- J) - JJ) 1-1-1) TUSTS TSH T0000 THE SPECTACLE STORE “Won't you step Into my spectacle store," sald the visionary optician to the myopic young wife. “Let me run some trial frames past you -- they could even change your life. "Those I like, the ones with the tortoise shell frame," said the wife protruding her head from the polo neck jumper. “But they're a bit too big," she added eyeing his monocular tube. "Come over to my workbench where I can better adjust the mount of your frame," replied the rigid optician. "The side joint Is stretched, but its nothing a little abrasive wheel grinding won't fix." Won't I need lens to see things more clearly?" The doctor just coughed and handed her a centering suction holder. Then he flicked on the acuity projector and peered deep into her metal-blocked eyes. "Your vitreous body is in need of repair," he sald stepping back to turn the sign and draw the shade. "My dear, you're eyesight is fine -- its you're vision that's distorted." And with that he unplugged the contro unit and Inserted a former. Donald McLeod THE READING SEASON It must be mid-winter. I'm using the crust of ice on the window, wind whipping up a foot of snow outsidé as an excuse to sit in front of the fire, reading a book. At last, the stuff I could never get at, the ideas that summer walled up away from my brain are given the go-ahead by winter's drawn-out way with time, the cold taking moments in Its bitter fingers and freezing them to my skin, the words fitting neatly into those pockets of surrender so I can suck them down, one at a time, arriving at my understanding, meaning intact. JOHN GREY IN OTHER HOUSES Reading the opposites of what Tam like an anthology of Chicana poets, their words In English, ideas In Spanish, or something from the hard-nalled world of feminism or the latest beat poets wishing now was Los Angeles in the late fifties I feel like someone In a stranger's house searching fruitiessly through cupboard after cupboard for the coffee, the cups, the sugar, the cream, wanting nothing more than to relax at the kitchen table sipping java calming down. JOHN GREY OLD AND YET NOT OLD I'm disgusted. Tired of being seen only as an old man fit just for belly stuffing, or looked down upon as a child Is looked down upon, pulled by his trousers to half-assed entertainments. This Is not living but a prattle of decaying things. What can anyone do belng old and yet not old? In our thoughts we are youths ambitious with love, fired with the multiplicity of creation, aspirations like rain. Let us not stop here in what we call old age. To stop here becomes our decay, a doom where we are laid out, silent, stilled by that measurement we call Time. SIGMUND WEISS NIGHT IS A TIME FOR LAUGHTER Night is a time for laughter, love & debauch. Drink away your hereafter as you woo the lady on the couch. Mad hornets bite your flesh as matter, chasing you Into a den of thieves, who rob you while they kI11 you as you choke with a sneeze. Shoot the dice, call your number. What Is yours today is not yours tomorrow. Take all your winnings & leave. What you have not was never lost. What you have is not worth moments of grief. SIGMUND WEISS op ptnos qT punos e& exTT yoouSsTeyge UL axTT |xenl wr» shit by Oberc Babe I tell her come in here a friend of mine is on TV what the hell are you talking about she asks walking into the living room a dish and towel in her hand on TV there's a shoot out cops ducking behind cars reporters talking hysterically about the danger what stupid fucks she says looking at the reporters at least the cops got guns here comes the good part I tell her smiling Joe is cornered he‘knows their going to do him in who's Joe she asks I'11 tell you later I tell her just watch the cops toss in a hand grenade gas flies across the windows Joe tosses it back out with a handful of fire the reporters freak out the camera men got the worst of it they got to take those pictures then the snipers let go bullets fly through the house fill it with holes with pain a cop runs inside the place after a moment of silence Joe the crazy bastard is waiting for him he drops to the floor accamera man stupid fuck followed the cop inside is that live asks Joe yeah says the camera man knowing he's fucked up eee x Buy: po A RK % S— CL 7? at «<<< tessqnowa ta. bysaee ue axyT dn Sutppe syj90uy @s043 03 WAIST I yeasue 03 pasoddns w,1 exTT uoTaebTTqo ue 306 1 exTT BuTq0e zoop Au uo pzeqo Aq syoouy 3us c7*74S2TF OAOT oxeu auyer p,I TOY T1939 I pue Tray og of ues T ‘au STTe3 aus yong ATTeer are nok vsya op nod St3T6 T1289 nod qeya st eaoT BuTyeu qnoge xTeA oF este Suryqou aay a,uop nod uaya op nok Sutugeuos st eact Suryeu 05 STeas arya st BuTyonT BAT Suyxeu qou ewoo nok soxew yey st BuTxons zeu_1129 I seated sexeu BuTxons punoz 06 przom ou3 sexeur BuTHONz ang ueezos eTAoW 2u3 Uo poob aq ausyu BACT Buyxeu 3ey2 DUE HON OFKOY MOUX a,use0p ays 704 T1289 T BACT exetI 07 KOT Aoux 9,U0p T ou STTeL ozeqo Aq us / Zt’ a DN tell them I did it for Suzy says Joe then he shoots the camera n man the cops are shooting all over the place by now and Joe gets it in the gut who's this‘ friend of your's A asks my old lady Joe I tell her and this Suzy asks my old lady who was this Suzy I don't know I tell her but she must A of been somebody good to go through all that my old lady looks - at me then asks me if I'd do that for her hell know I tell her and she walks off looking hurt heads towardsthe kitchen 38 || a | . cee Personal Ad —} He sounds perfect, the kind of guy I want, I want someone too good to be true, ‘And thats what he's gotta be...perfec, too. —+ But Thave to figure out what-what what is the trath behind this guy? —} maybe he's gay, he says he’s clean-cut (he’s meticulous about his housekeeping. —+} and you can't use up his guest soap, even if he said you did sive him the biggest orgasm he’s ever had-ob, you came at the —+- same time, wow-ee!) Ue likes most kinds of music, probably means he's one of those —+ 60s leftovers ora seventies hippie (in 1967, he was...he was... age 13 the same age as, —+ Kevin on the Wonder Years.) ‘who wil listen to anything from that period and so + he thinks he's liberated, but he thought heavy metal ht its peak when Gene Simmons rolled down his tongue. He's not into spectator sports, so I guess I can't s With him,..but he's no couch potato, so he'll wanna —+ éoiit in the road, (the old Beatles song, so symbolic. ironing board-ouch! Gentle means he has a problem with any kind of agression, + especially his girlfiend’s, 50 why should I bother? {keep thinking he'll have a problem if I want to be on tp, —+ Considerate-but does he only send flowers when he's chasing me, and will he remember Pm allergic —F to roses? Great sense of humor, does that mean he laughs at his own fet odor, — or only at Family Ties? He sald he was gentle, so he might not like Married With Children, —H unless he's truly one of those haif-assed twits who says one ting to get you to love him, —F then pulls away like a freight train out of Alabama... He's generous to a fault, eh? —} Wants to play your Sugar Daddy, gimme some lovin’ or on the and flounce about in that pink skirt, — with the pom-poms on the He's the special man who will under-stand... WAITING —+ ooooh....I don't know for sure. — —+ Sounds too good. small town, —+ Pai local males, left withert making them like sweaty of spring. SPLAKE Wild thing. hordes of summer tourists swell the sweet delicious young femmes, soft breasts bulging beneath college and nce Sibeal university t-shirts, sweaters, clean virginal faces an impossible tease for bloods with delirious, hot desires, who remain after summer's finis, while town girls, women, friends, ng In unromantic, lonely solitude, waiting for winter return of abuse from old boyfriends after drunken weekends, familiar macho profanity, feel wanted again, cold winter nights rolling under bed covers animals, deciding to make another baby, both trying not to think ETERNAL LIFE! HERE IS THE ONLY WAY THAT YOU WILL EVER HAVE ETERNAL LIFE! A Boy Who Was Always Happy A woman was coming down the sidewalk, pushing a wheel chair. In it sat a little boy who couldn't walk. He couldn't even move his hands very much. He had had polio. But he was smiling all the time “Look at that boy; he's always smiling,” said Allan. Yd cry if I couldn't walk,” said his sister Margie. “But he's doing right by smiling,” said Allan. “Don't you remember what our minister said about being happy all the time? ‘Be glad in the Lord always.” That's a Bible verse.” “But how can I be happy if I don't feel happy?” asked Margie, and she sourided as though she were about to ery over that. “We can remember how Jesus was nailed on the cross for us,” said Allan. “That shows how much He loves us. Jesus makes people happy even when they can't walk.” “I guess I could be happy even if I were crippled, if Jesus wanted me to be,” said Margie after a while. Do you think you could smile if you were crippled? ‘ssi1ea JVNUAAS “a “ ust Zz a a ¢q = al q 2 & WT) e wu a ETERNAL JOY worES jar is a transfer of property from nation to nation." (Leon Samson) "Yo enjoy freedom we have to learn to control ourselves." (Virginia Woolf) "Money is a terrible master but an excellent servant." (2.1. Barnum) "Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell." (Baward Abbey) “One nice thing about egotists: talk about other people." (lucille S. Harper) they don't ‘enuine poetry can communicate before it is understood. (1.8. Eliot) "Rock and roll is phony & false & sung, written & played for the most part by cretinous goons." (Frank Sinatra) “If killing is wrong, is killing killers right?" ADDITIONAL CREDITS, LOVE NOTES, ETC. James Lindley - Cover, Page 12,17,24,29,33 Dan Nielsen ~ Back Cover, Page 5 Joe E - Page 34, 35 Jules Eironne ~ Page 7, Walt Phillips ~ Page 14 (LR), 31 Harland Ristau - Page 30 ‘Thank you writers & artists for submitting to ASH. Thank you Factsheet Five, Blue Ryder, Rale & the many other zines for listing ASH. Love & Encouragement ~ Tean Layout6Graphotos by Obvious Care/No.9 Music by Big Dan Ingram Supplies by Mr. Haney Comedy by Paul Lynde Bulls by Top Hill Farms Blood Typing by The Editor You can contact James Lindley at 2504 Peabody #1, Bellingham, WA 98225 about artwork for your zine. You can contact Rodney Leighton at R.R#3, Pugwash, Nova Scotia, Canada BOK 1L0. Step Into DATLY Cow Join the moovement where nothing is real or imagined. See the world through cow's eyes. America's only humor publication devoted to Issue #1 ~ "Milk Strike Hits U.S. Issue #2 - "The Cowstock Festival Issue #3 ~ “War On Bugs" Issue #4 ~ "Make Love Not Mill Issue #5 ~ "Golf Crisis Looms" Published twice yearly (that's about daily in cow time!) Single issues are 50 cents each, or get all five for $2.50. Send cash, check or stamps to: David R. Wyder/Daily Cow 121 Gregory Ave., #B-7 Passaic, NJ 07055 ASH #7 SPRING 1991 $2.00 THE VIOLENCE ISSUE (Make My Day, Make Up, Make Do) HONEYMOONERS