ÚÄ Ü Ü Ü Ü Ä¿ Ûßß ÛßÛ ß Û Û Ûßß ÜÜÛ ß ÛÛÜ Û Ü ßßÛ ÛÜÛ Û Û Û Ûß Û Û Û Û Þ ÛÜß ÛÛÛ Û ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛ Û Þ ÛßÛ ÀÄ ÄÙ Ä electronic literary 'zine Ä *ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ* ù ÄÄ´ volume eight ÃÄÄ ù *ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ* stop plagiarism - let out your soul Copyright 2/96 ú úùcompiled & edited by Twilightùú ú ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ Dedicated to Stephanie White and her son, Justin Kyle ..."with every goodbye you learn"... þ Table of Contents þ ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù 1. After A While - Veronica A. Shoffstall 2. Almas - Zita Marie Evensen 3. Ask Me If I'm A Truck - Janet Kuypers 4. Aubade And Elegy For El Hermanito - Michelle Vessel 5. Beauty - Mark Hallman 6. Caffe' Di Pensieri - Arlene 7. Chicago, West Side - Janet Kuypers 8. Convolution - C. Dianne Long 9. Daughter - Mary Ratcliff 10. Dead Rope - C. Dianne Long 11. Devil's Son - sca00030@mail.wvnet.edu 12. Drowning - Marco Morales 13. Eternity - GQ Guy 14. Everything Was Alive And Dying - Janet Kuypers 15. Fall Asleep - Sunflower 16. Fireflies - Mary Ratcliff 17. Fragile - Bob Ezergailis 18. Free The Hemp - Sunflower 19. Fruit - Marco Morales 20. I Idolize Myself - Mike Conway 21. Leaving Chicago - Paul David Mena 22. Manny Is Everywhere - Robb Buchanan 23. Melt Me - Twilight 24. Nothing Left To Lose - Slaanesh/Antigone 25. Over And Over Again - Pat DiNizio 26. Pink Moon - Sunflower 27. Reel Around The Fountain - The Smiths 28. Someone Doesn't Want Me Here - Twilight 29. Take Me, Fuck Me, Wheel Me In - Ian I. Hu 30. The Farmer's Serenade - C. Dianne Long 31. Undercurrent - C. Dianne Long 32. Unsevered Strings - Twilight 33. Untitled - Stephen Lush 34. When In The Dark - Mere Smith 35. Wrote This For A Guy Named Jon - Patricia Gonzales/Alli þ Including Quotes From: Tori Amos, _Batman Returns_, The Bible, William Clayton, Kurt Cobain, Pat Conroy, Benjamin Disraeli, Drakon, Albert Einstein, _First Knight_, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Jefferson, C.J. Jung, Courtney Love, Stephen Perisie, Queen, Rush, Hugh Ryan, Mark Twain, and Tennessee Williams ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ After A While þ Veronica A. Shoffstall ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't always mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead with the grace of a woman not the grief of a child and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure that you really are strong and you really do have worth and you learn and you learn, with every goodbye you learn. "Too much love will kill you just as none at all." Ä Queen Almas þ Zita Maria Evensen ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú uncontrolled chain reaction of nuclear emotions fireballs of greed hate hopelessness sear the city pounding surges of primal screams raging fires from molotov minds and spirits explode in undulating waves -- and the world cries for her for this city this los angeles watch your back dodge the bullets between street signs on your way to school cry at the funeral of a young man you say only yesterday laughing at the sun and the world fears for this city -- this los angeles a reaper stands on dead-end streets wearing teen-age masks of eighty year old minds while suicide watch shadows children of the burnt-out ruins of a million memories kindness is a clean crisp paperwork required by legislated humanity Ask Me If I'm A Truck þ Janet Kuypers ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù so i worked in the summer time part time with about ten guys (since guys were stronger, they could scoop ice cream better, that was the idea). but they all screwed off when they were at work. they'd always write up signs and tape them to each others' backs. once i wrote on the back of candy box paper, "i'm a boy with raging hormones" and for about an hour every customer had a good laugh at matt's expense. but my favorite was put on john's back once. you see, john used to tell everyone the same joke; he'd say to you, "ask me if i'm a truck," and when you'd ask him if he was a truck, he'd look real perplexed and say, "no." like, why did you ask him that? so anyway, we got a sign on his back once that said "ask me if i'm a truck" and when all the customers did he got real confused. it was hysterical. þùúùþ Janet Kuypers, Chicago, is the editor/publisher of the literary/art magazine "children, churches and daddies". She has had two books published, _hope chest in the attic_ and _the window_, is a graphic designer by day, and also sings with a band. Bio sketch: Employment: Art/Production Editor for a publishing company in Chicago Education: bachelor in News/Ed. Journalism (Communictions), with a minor in photography, from the University of Illinois, Urbana/Champaign Publication Credits: published over 600 for writing and over 150 for artwork. "I don't own a computer. I have a nine-foot piano in my home to compose my messages. Why would I want a one-foot computer to do the same thing?" Ä Tori Amos Aubade And Elegy For El Hermitano þ Michelle Vessel ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù you had run away. tucked in caves, starved on dirty mounds of the treasure of your alone self (tremors of which had encrypted your skin, graffitied you foreign, thrust gold thorn through your breast and spewed lightning in your froggish heart) and i already knew your secret. i knew exactly the price for your brand of life. i hear you died scared. your heart waltzed you into a martyr for the desert night with shit in your pants and gimson seeds stuck between your teeth away from me. and nowadays i rub my belly with jade against this tainted weight of baby. he kicks with the poison of a suicide. but i still dream you that way: head cocked in listening, quiet and wild, crouching over the dying fire of yourself. did you really think. running away from my father and into the cold hole of your visions. that i could? rob from you your living life? suck from your blood the prickly pear of youth? look! at my hands. young too, and just a rose. and a piece of dirt. no priest or no guns could have murdered the little abandon i have loved first and last. which i have loved best. "I hold the key to who you really are/I was wrong and he will never forgive/ He kept me vital/Made we want to live" - Courtney Love Beauty þ Mark Hallman ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú a houseful of firemen out scrubbing their truck on a sunny day Caffe' Di Pensieri þ Arlene ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú clinging desperately onto the waft of steam which arises from the froth enshrouding a cappuccino scene a need presents itself to carve the image forever in the mind with the sound of one spoon stirring making insistent circles in the dark with the air having devoured all notion of time I write on the coffee table etching here my name and all remembrance of mid-afternoon breaks which shall soon be drunk without much relish and disappeared into the air a mere trifle of a wish as always dying unfulfilled "We are young, wandering the face of the Earth, wondering what our dreams might be worth; learning that we are only immortal for a limited time..." Ä Rush Chicago, West Side þ Janet Kuypers ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú she knew who they were coming for she crouched in front of the window straddling her chair she moved from the corner her coffee sat in the windowsill the condensation rising, beading on the window right about at her eye level. she took the side of her index finger periodically and smeared some of the water away to look into the streets. the snow was no longer falling on the west side of Chicago; it just packed itself darker and deeper into the ground with every car that drove over it. she gunshot was ringing in her ear still. it was so loud. the earth cried when she pulled that trigger. let out a loud, violent scream. she could still hear it. for these few moments, she had to just stare out the window and wait. she didn't know if she should bother running, if it mattered or not. she couldn't think. all she knew was that this time, when she heard the sirens coming from the streets, she'd know why they were coming. she'd know who they were coming for. "Sickos never scare me. At least they're committed." - 'Catwoman', _Batman Returns_ Convolution þ C. Dianne Long ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú The ball drops and I'm awake despite a prescribed remedy tossed down with a glass of water, not the graying bottle of unopened Freixenet that I had planned to surround my brain. Floating like a 7th grade science project fingers dancing about the glass hushed giggles and thwarted eyes as sparks fly across the sky. Black bottle is lying on its side in the whiteness of a chilled box wrapped tightly and neatly bound around the neck like a voodoo doll of what I will become as each failed resolution pricks me in my crooked spine pulling my life apart like a wishbone until I'm lying cold in a box laced with good intentions dancing fingers now grey and intertwined around an unopened bottle of '95 still chilled and on its side. "I had never seen the cold corpse, she hid behind the paint. Never saw the ivory devil beneath the plastic saint." Ä Hugh Ryan Daughter þ Mary Ratcliff ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù tiny fingers, tiny hands big enough to hold my heart "Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quence love; rivers cannot wash it away. If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned." Ä Song of Solomon 8:6-7 Dead Rope þ C. Dianne Long ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú When I bring you home all red-faced and bundled with a black cord will you smell like sweet cotton candy or rotten as a graying corpse will you cry all night leaving my head throbbing splitting like your dead rope or will you coo with such sweet delight that my heart burns with motherly love as your drooling, toothless, silly smile clears my burning red, watery eyes or will I curse you and smell you and shake you by your arms shutting you up inside your holding tank vacuuming out your cries or will I love you, love you, love you or will I see a crooked eye will I love you, love you, love you or leave you with a kiss good-bye. "Reluctant arena rock voice/My lipstick smeared on your soul/No flowers for you/No flowers for a dead child" Ä Courtney Love Devil's Son þ sca00030@mail.wvnet.edu ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù standing atop a mountain looking down upon his subjects he is the living epitome of "holier than thou" they are all kneeling before him pitiful fearful and awestruck with an heir of confidence and a graceful snarl he furrows his brow beyond the gates of hell his soul resides within a chamber if you listen closely at the door you'll hear a sound a mephistophelean growl amidst satanic laughter this soul in hell controls the man who stands on holy ground he says his name is jesus and maybe he will save you if you stay penitent and sell your precious soul but once you do the gambit's run and then he'll have to slay you and once you die your soul is damned to face the devil's son you rolled your dice with the antichrist and now your life is done your soul is doomed to be devoured by the devil's son "The dumber people think you are, the more surprised they're going to be when you kill them." Ä William Clayton Drowning þ Marco Morales ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù I sink. My few last words turn to bubbles of rarefied air. I just stare. Those silver planets rush to the surface I'll never see again. I despair. The oceans rush into my scream raping me. Family heart youth sad love goodbye All written in blue against water and sand. Pressure crushes life in shades of blue and red. Now I rest on my solitary seabed. "Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat." Ä F. Scott Fitzgerald Eternity þ GQ-Guy ùúùúùúùú Slowly the papers, decrepit and yellow with age, gently rose upward as a light wind blew quietly in through an open window and across the layer of dust which coated the wooden floor. Unlocking the door had been pointless; nothing was to be found. The old man, depressed with the notion of memories lost, quietly turned, locked the door, and walked noiselessly back down the passageway into the darkness. Everything Was Alive And Dying þ Janet Kuypers ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú I I had a dream the other night I walked out of the city to a forest and there were neatly paved bicycle paths and trash cans every fifty feet and trash every ten and then a raccoon came right up to me she had a few little baby raccoons following her, it was so cute, I wish I had my camera and she spoke to me, she said, thank you thank you for not buying furs, I know you humans are pretty smart, you have to be able to figure out a way to keep yourselves warm without killing me and I said, you know they don't do it for warmth, they do it for fashion, they do it for power. And she said I know. But thank you anyway. II Then I walked a little further and there was a stray cat she still had her little neon collar on with a little bell and she walked a few feet, stretched her front paws, oh, she looked so darling and then she walked right up to me and she said thank you and I said for what? And she just looked at me for a moment, her little ears were standing straight up, and then she said, you know, in some countries I'm considered a delicacy. And I said how do you know of these things? And she said when somebody eats one of you word gets around and then she looked up at me again and said, and in some countries the cow is sacred. Wouldn't they love to see how you humans prepare them for slaughter, how you hang them upside-down and slit their throats so their still beating hearts will drain out all the blood for you and she said isn't it funny how arbitrary your decision to eat meat is? and I said, don't put me in that category, I don't eat meat and she said I know III And I walked deeper in to the forest managed to get away from the picnic tables and the outhouses that lined the forest edges the roaring cars gave way to the rustling of tree branches crackling of fallen leaves under my step when the wind tunneled through the wind whistled and sang as it flew past the bark and leaves I walked listened to the crack of dead branches under my feet and I felt a branch against my shoulder I looked up and I could hear the trees speak to me, and they said thank you for letting the endangered animals live here amongst us we do think they're so pretty and it would be a shame to see them go and thank you for recycling paper because you're saving us for just a little while longer we've been on this planet for so long embedded in the earth we do have souls, you know you can hear it in our songs we cling with our roots we don't want to let go and I said, but I don't do much, I don't do enough and they said we know but we'll take what we can get IV and I woke up in a sweat V so tell me, Bob Dole so tell me, Newt Gingrich so tell me, Pat Bucannan so tell me, Jesse Helms if you woke up from that dream would you be in a sweat, too? VI Do you even know why we should save the rain forest? Oh preserve the delicate balance, just tear the whole forest down, what difference does it make? Put in some orange groves so our concentrate orange juice can be a little cheaper did you know that medical researchers have a very, very hard time trying to come up with synthetic cures for diseases on their own? It helps them out a little if they can first find the substance in nature. A tree that appears in the rain forest may be the only one of its species. Or one like it may be two miles away, instead of right next to it. I wonder how many cures we've destroyed to plant more orange groves. Serves us right. VII You know my motives aren't selfless I know that these things are worthwhile in my life I'd like to find a cure to these diseases before I die of them and I'm not just a vegetarian because I think it's wrong to kill an animal unless I have to I also know the excess protein pulls the calcium away from my bones and gives me osteoperosis and the excess fat gives me heart attacks and I also know that we could be feeding ten times more people with the same resources used for meat production You know, I know you're looking at me and calling me an extremist but I'm sitting here, looking around me looking at the destruction caused by family values and thinking the right, moral, non-violent decisions are also those extreme ones VII everything is linked here we destroy our animals so we can be wasteful and violent we destroy our plants we destroy our earth we're even destroying our air we wreak havoc on the soil, on the atmosphere we dump our wastes into our lakes we pump aerosol cans and exhaust pipes and you tell me I'm extreme and these animals and forests keep calling out to me the oceans, the wind and I'm beginning to think that we just keep doing it because we don't know how to stop and deep inside we feel the pain of all that we've killed and we try to control it by popping a chemical-filled pain-killer we live through the guilt by taking caffeine, nicotine, morphine and we keep ourselves thin with saccharin and we keep ourselves sane with our alcohol poisoning and when that's not enough maybe a line of coke maybe shoot ourselves in the head in front of the mirror in the master bedroom or maybe just take some pills walk into the garage, turn on the car and just fall asleep in the wild you have no power over anyone else now that we're civilized we create our own wild maybe when we have all this power the only choice we have is to destroy ourselves and so we do "It is error alone which needs the support of government. Truth can stand by itself." Ä Thomas Jefferson Fall Asleep þ Sunflower ùúùúùúùúùúù I can't sleep by the window I can't sleep by the window, my soul gets cold Then I roll over in my bed and try to stop thinkin' About what I need to do and how to channel my emotions So I close my eyes, and for one more night... Fall asleep I can't feel the surface of the ground below To focus my life, I must carry on So I turn to the empty pages inside my heart Where my imagination plays the major part World of unknown dreams help to transform my... Reality Outside's where I lie Outside's where I lie Outside's where I'll die Underneath the moonlight hear my soul cry Screaming inside my head Something's cold, it's fear I dread Lost in a world where the unconscious has control Please don't take my soul "Never do anything against conscience, even if the state demands it." Ä Albert Einstein Fireflies þ Mary Ratcliff ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù we chased fireflies on balmy summer nights romping o'er grassy fields with glee we gave chase jars in hand with holes poked in the lids we caught them, enchanted by their light we put the jars on the nightstand delighted with our homemade lights careful to hide them from mother we whispered about their mystery long after lights-out time summer was over all too soon and the fireflies disappeared an ill wind blew through coldly and plucked you from my life when I see the fireflies I cry because the time they have is short just like the days of you and me when life had meaning and light. "Our Life's Morning Dawns Yet We Only Live Our Lives In Our Memories." Ä Drakon Fragile þ Bob Ezergailis ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú When shall I fall down from the vine, as another withered leaf, having become a thin layer of bulging veins, to become that smoke that rises to touch a few reddened eyes, past the colours of next season's flowers. When shall I fall down for the last time, having held on, held on, dangling, in the twisting winds. That cat and mouse game played with death, that everything plays, so unwittingly, often with our breaths. The fragility of life. Broken so easily in any harsh climate. Even the strongest eventually break down. The extreme frailty of human existence. It is so difficult, at the best of times, to avoid sudden endings. "One of the greatest gifts you can get as a writer is to be born into an unhappy family." Ä Pat Conroy Free The Hemp þ Sunflower ùúùúùúùúùúùúù Free the hemp to the rational mind Lost again zen mandala spray its mist That we may all be the sensational kind As mary jane blows another majestic kiss Free the hemp, free the hemp Stoked again, they think I'm losing my mind If they'd only try like me they'll come to find That the beauty in life that we overlook every day When high comes alive so people hear us say Free the hemp, free the hemp Please don't pass me by I'm still young gettin' high But I'll never cry 'Cause all I need's my soul To never die "So do not be afraid of them. Everything now covered up will be uncovered, and everything hidden will be made clear. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the daylight; what you hear in whispers, proclaim from the housetops." Ä Matthew 10:26-7 Fruit þ Marco Morales ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù A fruit carcass once sweet now bitter, pregnant with hatred seed lumped on a fly ridden heap dissolves into empathic dreams. I spat a sour mouthful then picked the weeds -sliced my throat while devouring my greed. I Idolize Myself þ Mike Conway ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú i idolize myself despise myself revise myself i watched me from outside myself confine myself inside myself on the outside looking in to when i crossed myself with metal pin i turned the knife and stuck it in and drank my blood with vapid grin sin is when you're back again you lick the knife and cut again i'm never going back again i had it once, my blood's too thin i idolize myself despite myself revive myself i watch me from outside myself define myself beside myself from the outside looking in to when i crossed my heart with metal pin and cut it out with knife worn thin i know that i'll go back again my body drenched in blood again i'm covered in your sin again i'll try to fight it once again i've had it now, my soul gives in "I miss the comfort in being sad." Ä Kurt Cobain Leaving Chicago þ Paul David Mena ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù by the time I reached the second toll plaza Courtney Love had faded to static I could still smell the city through my open window I paid exact change accepted a bright plastic thank you and drove into white noise snow was beginning to appear on the shoulder afraid of the city perfectly at ease in the suburbs mariachi station wagons replaced by trucks one of them breezed past me while I gripped the wheel with both hands another appeared in my rear view mirror slowly growing larger before shifting to the left I swallowed hard wishing I could close my eyes too many miles of this too many miles between us the grey sky was already suffocating the lavender I left behind I turned off the radio and daydreamed riding the steam from your jasmine tea away from Chicago "Love is a state of insanity anyway." Ä Stephen Perisie Manny Is Everywhere þ Robb Buchanan ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù "I'm scared." "Excuse me?" I reply. "I'm scared, man," replies Manny. "Of what?" "Them." "Who's them?" He looks over at Brother George, who is sitting quietly in his desk, doing his assignment. "Him?" "Yes, him," he says. "His type. All them conservative, religious folk." "That's a stereotype, Manny. Just because you don't like one of them doesn't mean you shouldn't like all of them." "Fine. Then most of them. The happy ones. The combination of everything wrong with college. Constantly happy, like sorority girls - dressing conservatively, like the Nudist Club -" "There is no Nudist Club." "- and quoting the Bible, just letting themselves be brainwashed, like that 'PC' group." "What 'PC' group?" "The ones that say Halloween is Satanic." "Who?" "The one hanging over our government's head?" "Huh?" "The reason Wal-Mart and K-Mart aren't selling 'In Utero'. The reason public arts and broadcasting funding is being cut back." "Oh, them!" I say. "They quote the Bible?" "One would assume. Why else would they be so blind?" "You're doing it again, dude," I tell him. "Fine, I am," he says. "Halloween was created because regular people would dress up as evil spirits, so as to lure them away from the town." "Really?" "Yes, really. Like I said, they're blind. And stupid." "Hmm..." "No, they are. I heard someone attack Jews as Satanic. He had to be informed that the Jewish Bible is the Old Testament. Morons, I tell you." "Not everyone is like that." "No?" "No!" "Okay, watch this - GODDAMN. THIS CLASS SUCKS!!" The teacher doesn't move. Brother George looks up. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk that way around me," he says. "Why?" Manny asks. "It's offensive." "Why?" "You're taking the Lord's name in vain." "And?" "You shouldn't talk about your creator that way." "Creator? Says who?" "The Bible." "And who wrote the Bible?" Pause. He's about to answer when Cindy approaches him. "George, will you go out with me?" George looks at nothing but her face. "Why?" he asks. "Because you're cute," she replies innocently. "Oh, Cindy, you know I can't," he replies. "That looks familiar..." I say. "The prosecution rests," Manny says, ignoring me. Brother George goes back to his work. "I don't get it," I say. He sighs. "Brother George?" "Yes?" "Do you have that new Nirvana CD?" "You know that's Satanic." "But the lyrics are clean." "Yes, but your singers are going to hell, mine aren't." I stare in disbelief. "Um, George?" I say. "Yes?" "You've read the Bible and accept it?" "Of course." I gulp. "And you think other people should do the same?" "Of course! The word of God should be embraced by all! He is our saviour after all." I look over at Manny. "I'm scared." "The prosecution rests again," he tells me. Cindy approaches George again. "Can I sit on your lap?" she asks innocently. "Ah, Cindy, that would be wrong," he replies, then goes off on some tangent about why. "You see? That's the future," Manny tells me. I won't give up. "George? Ya going to the Halloween party?" "Halloween is a Pagan holiday," he informs me. "Cindy will be there." He doesn't respond. "Anything else?" Manny asks nonchalantly. "Well... why'd you make fun of sororities? My girlfriend's in a sorority." "She is not." "Yes, she is." "Fine. She is. There's gotta be 10,000 of them! You don't think that's a bit trendy?" "It takes responsibility to do what they do," I tell him. "It takes money. How hard is it to spend their parents money? They do that anyway." "Service work is tough." "So is changing the channel without a remote. I'd go insane." "They have to." "Why?" I have to think about that one. "They just do." "I see." I have to ponder that channel thing for another minute. "So you hate sororities?" I ask Manny. "Yep." "Why?" "Follow the leader." "It's more than that, Manny," I tell him. "Follow the leader while the whole student population gapes at you." "You have a problem with Greek life?" interjects Franz, a 200 lb., 6'6" frat boy. "No, Franz," Manny says. Did I mention Franz is dating a 4'5" sorority girl? "I didn't think so," growls Franz. He goes back to studying a fast cars & alcohol magazine. I feel compelled to tell him it's upside-down, but he was mean to Manny. "And you hate religions because..." "Love your brother," Manny shoots back. "Your brother swears, love him. Your brother gets depressed, love him. Your brother rapes your sister, love him. Pathetic." "Love is wrong?" "Unconditional love is wrong. That's why Barney sucks so hard." "Barney is a good role model," says Brother George. "I see," Manny says. "Bad acting is a good role model. I'll remember that." "Anything else?" I ask. "What did you have in mind?" "If you could preach to the school one tidbit of this worldly knowledge of yours, what would you say?" Manny thinks for a second then says, "Three things: 1) Don't believe ANYthing unless you've confirmed it with two of your five senses, 2) Don't argue how bad society's morals are if you don't follow them yourselves, and 3) The Constitution is more important than the Bible." "I'm scared," George cuts in. "Fuck you, George," Manny tells him. "Don't talk -" "I said, 'Fuck you, George.'" He goes back to his work. "You should write for the newspaper," I tell Manny. "We have a newspaper?" "Yeah. And a student council too." "Oh. And what do they do?" "I don't know." "Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself." Ä Mark Twain Melt Me þ Twilight ùúùúùúùúùú Encased in ice Frozen, I stand still Enduring sensory deprivation, I feel no warmth. Scarred and burned tissue - Nerves twisted into knots, Dead at the terminals... Blocked out vision Rejected song Tastebuds dry...and depleted. But - pumping inside, Raging to escape, Pounding and pleading - To be let out... To shed this winter coat And emit, emanate - radiate! But nothing will cooperate... Try - Not a lost cause... Push - Thickness is not infinite... Pierce me open and thaw me out - Please, all I ask Is one pinprick to the heart. Nothing Left To Lose þ Slaanesh/Antigone ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú nothing left to lose "FREE"--across the top of the mirror. I never see my reflection. "I dove off the stage, and suddenly, it was like my dress was being torn off me, my underwear was being torn off me, people were putting their fingers inside of me and grabbing my breasts really hard, screaming things in my ears like 'pussy-whore-cunt'. When I got back onstage I was naked ... But the worst thing of all was that I saw a photograph of it later - someone took a picture of me right when this was happening, and I had this big smile on my face like I was pretending it wasn't happening. So later I wrote a song called 'Asking For It' based on the whole experience. I can't compare it to rape because it's not the same. But in a way it was. I was raped by an audience - figuratively, literally, and yet, was I asking for it?" Ä Courtney Love Over And Over Again þ Pat DiNizio ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù It was just yesterday That I saw your face Looking in my window I can't recall the place we first met It seems, but I guess that you know Hadn't thought about it For a long, long time But still she's here inside me Never off my mind I try to hide it from you but you know And I hear it over and over again Do you recall the day I first came your way And I had to know you When you stepped in the way And I smiled at you Though I never meant to Hadn't thought about it For a long, long time But still she's here inside me Never off my mind I try to hide it from you but you know And I hear it over and over again You can talk about tomorrow All your talkin' doesn't mean a thing All our yesterdays are sorrow Can't stop remembering Hadn't thought about it For a long, long time But still she's here inside me Never off my mind I try to hide it from you but you know And I hear it over and over again "Better a pebble given out of love than a diamond given out of duty." Pink Moon þ Sunflower ùúùúùúùúùúù Radiant sky, created by The pink moon overhead All dreams tainted, waters polluted But in the core a well resides, so pure As we get closer it runs away But when we were distant, so easy to see That which is sweet, sour one and the same The real moon is camouflaged, by the blood-stains What I know doubts itself I may need some help Trapped in the shadow of myself Feeling like there's nothing left Radiant sky, created by The pink moon overhead Hoping it will come soon When the night from pink to white Transforms the moon Reel Around The Fountain þ The Smiths ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú It's time the tale were told of how you took a child and you made him old Reel around the fountain slap me on the patio I'll take it now Fifteen minutes with you well, I wouldn't say no people said that you were virtually dead and they were so wrong Fifteen minutes with you well, I wouldn't say no people said that you were easily led and they were half-right I dreamt about you last night and I fell out of bed twice you can pin and mount me like a butterfly but take me to the haven of your bed was something that you never said two lumps, please you're the bee's knees but so am I Meet me at the fountain shove me on the patio I'll take it slowly Fifteen minutes with you oh I wouldn't say no people see no worth in you oh but I do "Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for truth." Ä Benjamin Disraeli Someone Doesn't Want Me Here þ Twilight ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú [special thanks to courtney love for her lyrics] waxen lips pallid skin upon the satiny soft pillow looking up through frozen lids surrounded by flowers white lilies concentrate on the petals cards of sympathy attached all the i'm sorrys and deepest sympathies can't look over to her shut them out shut out the crying the screaming close your eyes don't watch her collapse over him in such grief sobbing and asking why shut it out shut it all out focus on nothingness block out the soft music piano keys gently pressed into my fleshiness molding shaping denting squeezing pounding on my heart lyrics swimming -if you live through this with me i swear that i would die for you no shut it out strength be strong now -where is the baby who took my baby the child wails as if he too knows the sorrow of the truth your daddy killed himself he didn't love you or mommy enough felt the only way to rid of the pain was to hand it over to others instead let it multiply make it worse coward selfish jerk shut up don't think but you don't deserve such honor it's not an option it's a killer and you killed them by killing yourself damn you damn this wandering mind damn this annoying music like a mosquito buzzing in my ear damn me i can't focus memories backwash regurgitating bile into my mouth constricting cannot breathe frantic glances to all in black hugging each other in support cannot stand it gonna scream gonna die gotta get on out of this stuffy coffin fast as i can cannot forgive cannot forget anger burning in my red hot tears searing my cheeks rage hurt empathy damn my piscean self damn all those fucking cowards -he said he'd never ever ever go away he said he'd always always he would always stay sense of failure though i had no clue no knowledge pangs of guilt wish i could have known helped wish i could have done something want to be all-knowing thrive on burdens survivors set examples hey you can live through this so fuck you world you may have won this time but i will have the last laugh been through hell know it well will triumph in the end i promise but why save in this overpopulation to be superman feed me kryptonite will still live fight him fight this widespread epidemic just fight but i still feel so weak someone doesn't want me here -i am the girl you know the one who should have died fuck that "What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof? Just staying on it, I guess, as long as she can..." Ä Tennessee Williams Take Me, Fuck Me, Wheel Me In þ Ian I. Hu ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù don't leave me here alone step down on my back my hands are on my head i'm down on my knees you look at me and cry i'm so pitiful in clay i'm stuck here in this cold i'm trembling on my own you look at me and cry i'm so sad in ecstacy you wish it was enough i don't know why i need i don't know why i crave i'm an addict take me away "She's everybody else's girl; maybe someday she'll be her own..." Ä Tori Amos The Farmer's Serenade þ C. Dianne Long ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù In a shiny shovel, you see my face Reflecting the seed that you're afraid to be Deep inside lies a stranger Fetal positioned, filled with anger. Dig away, break your ground Turn over the soil upon me So that I remain dirty and unseen Only your shoes are left unclean. Underneath years of cultivation The seed you feared in you Was buried, then grew inside of me Harvest time is now, you see. You've planted, you've tilled A careful farmer you are What a beautiful crop you've grown A special gift, this seed you've sown. An Indian gift, you might say You gave to me but you take it away. With this you have so much to learn As the giftbearer, it is my turn. I present to you, icy cold and black In my heart, in my hand A gift that you've always wanted To aid your planting, yet leave you haunted. Deafen me with your scream Our secrets revealed My gift in red, white and blue In a note signed from me to you. 'To my friend, my farmer My bitter enemy This is my gift - your seed's demise' Now, now, my sweet, don't look so surprised. The paper will always be white, the ink blue But the red will fade to brown Like the ground you broke that bittersweet day When a seedling was only a harvest away. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Undercurrent þ C. Dianne Long ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú You drifted toward her through a white foam cloud I couldn't see if you were smiling the murky water was too thick but I longed to see a frown. I squinted until crows feet appeared the waves crashed and left rings All sealed with a kiss I think I heard you call her dear. The ceremony is over I'm still choking on my objection white, powdery and dry in my throat warm saltwater doesn't ease the suffocation Unless you're in the glass Swimming toward me my driftwood lifebuoy Eyes sparkling through a cloudy sea. You reach through the water All I see is golden lead Circling your finger And hovering above your head My saint of sorrow You've killed my dreams And swallowed my memories Like an undercurrent Pulling yesterday from tomorrow. Swim back, yellow-finned man to your goldenfish Waiting in the coral Still dressed in white You've circled long enough to be fed the sun's gone down the sharks are out I'm alone and the water's red. Unsevered Strings þ Twilight ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù Someone cut me free Let me fly Let me taste variety Adventurous spirit trapped In this cyclic monotony What would I do To run on frosted grass With pink clouds against a bright blue sky What I would do To be set free And dive into the cliffs What would I do... If someone cut me free Deja vu Isn't new It's just reality Can't escape Can't fly free Tangled...in these puppet strings Of an age-old show For all eternity Someone set me free Unlock the door Let me flee this wire cage Ravenous desire left to waste Rotting in its entirety What I would do To surf clear blue swells And fall one hundred stories What I would do To be set free And die with thrill upon these lips What would I do... If someone set me free "A man who fears nothing is a man who loves nothing. And if you love nothing, what joy is there in your life?" Ä 'King Arthur', _First Knight_ Untitled þ Stephen Lush ùúùúùúùúùúùúùú It's as we had to touch the night to see the day it's not even closer to the inner walls of flame dying closer to me removing the leaves from the trees embers of past, isn't it a blast? lights in lines, smoothie ghetto rhymes and you shouldn't even see what's there for you isn't here for me drawn blood like sponges with tongues we're all cardboard surrounding a gift takes time, you have to wave bye to time the rifts in the walls appear and you wonder where you thought it began and the sands of nostalgia have open hands whizzled and dizzled, faked and fizzled baseline, out, the cheerleaders shout do you know what you have to be? will you taste the night for me? the volume of the stars is eleven and few have reached these gates of heaven petty wordless sounds abound the dark is the only time we can be the stars. When In The Dark þ Mere Smith ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú when in the dark i am not craving a gaping mouth a small tongue twice look here and give me your shy quick glance off at the intersection when in the dark i am not wanting a body a bone a blanched face in mine shake once no so i can prey you down could you run a little faster, please i do not want to catch you when in the dark i am not waiting the rain in my hair darkening pillows sliding into the cup of my sideways ear "How can I be substantial if I fail to cast a shadow? I must also have a dark side if I am to be whole." Ä C.J. Jung Wrote This For A Guy Named Jon þ Patricia Gonzales/Alli ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùú I gazed at a bare frame This afternoon. A lovely image arose from its glassy heart A portrait of you. Was a beautiful deception While it stayed. An infinite blitheful fantasy That faded away. ßÜ ÜßÜÝÜßÜ ßÜÞÜß Ü Ü Üß Ü ÜßÜ ÝÜßÜß ÜßÜßÜ ßÜßÜ ÜßÜßÞÜß ÜßÜ Ü ßÜÜßÜß ßÜßÜÜß Ü ßÜßÜÝÜßÜß ÜßÜ ßÜ ßÜ ß ßÜßÜß Üß Ü Ü ßÜÝÜß Üß ÜßÜ ßÜÜßÜßÜ Üßßß Üß Û Ü ÜßßÜÞ ÜßÜß Ü ßÜßÜÜ ßÜß Üß ßÜÜß Üß Ü ßßÜßÝßÜß ÜÜ ßÜßßÜ ß Üß ÜßßÜÜß ÜßßÜ ßÝß ÜßÜ ßÜßßÜ ß Üß ÜßßßÝÜß ÜÜßÜÞÜßÜß ÛÞßßÜ ß ß ÜÜßÜßÜß ÜßÜÞÜß ÜßÜÝßÜÜß Ü Üßßßß ßÜßÝÜßÜÜßÜß Ü Ü Ü Ü ßÜ ßÜ ßÜßßßÜÜßÝÜÛßÜßÜÜß Üß Üß Üß Ü ßÜßÜ ßÜÜßÜßÜßÜßÜßÜÜÛÛÛÜßßÜßÜßÜßßßÜÜß ÜßÜß ßÜßÜßÜßÜßßÜ ßÜ ßÜßÜß ß Ý ß ßÜ ßÜßÜ ßÜßÜßÜßßÜ ÜßßÜßÜ ßÜßÜ ßÜ ß Þ ß ß ß ß ß Ý Ý Þ ß ùtwiù Legalize. ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù Submit your original literary works for Spilled Ink, [volume nine], to Twilight via Internet e-mail: twilight@mail.utexas.edu ùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúùúù