Mad Hatters' Review Issue 10, Fall 2008
<< cover   << brown
 
Poetry by
Ray Brown
Music by Randy Thurman
Art: "Always Crashing in the Same Car" by Carolyn Adams
Art:Always Crashing in the Same Car by Carolyn Adams

the twisted plea, the trans national caldron, the molecules of the sky, and

the color red wrapped around the palms of the hands and the saint of guadalupe, and the inverted signified

outlaws of the dust and the zoot suit, and the sierra madre, and the pistol, and sangre christo, and the jeune nouveau signs based in the horns and talons of the eagle in the mouth of the snake, and we sat on the stairs, and near

the edge, in the lime light, as a car passes, as he breathes and inhales in the moods and textures of this and that

and as we speak to each other, and the wall of communication places barriers in our way, what do we do, what

do we say, we break them down and create a morbid saturn interference, a way to seek past the normal, a way

to live outside the societal implications of the distraught, and how the subconscious turns you inside out and the lyric hits that broken down drum at the celebration of self righteous existence, because what else is there to be, except upside down and bent around into the melody of the trans nations caldron of emotions and molecules of the sky as the

white light turns within, and the twisted subverted barriers that we place in front of ourselves and give out into the

smoke and clouds, and the mountain lingers in front of concrete and the adobe bountiful buildings engross the bank

of the metropolis, and the gangsters in the winter jackets, the girl on the shoulder and the skinny-crusted lips of

the torn from reality beckon onwards to the purest measure, and they call out to the heavenly father, and they grasp

at the strands of the midnight body, and wish into the stars for a dollar bill as he washes your tires and looks tired

into your eyes, and the night keeps going and the glow of a million assorted years comes within a moment, and you

understand what this was meant to be, adonis. you finally understand. broken and low down. a kiss to the

blue sun.

 

Crowd Mutters obsolete nightgowns. black cat dancing on the top of my
head. going through a hole in the door. ethiopian dawn. rocks slashes on the
cements. rude bright shapes. names. celebrity. torn. awake. reaching. for.
the flashlight of fame. rebirth at the hands of sharecroppers at the release
of a single whip slash. rip a house. birth a wild nation. send it to hell. to breach
a new contract with the demonic principle of his or her choice.

 

Letter Deviation {phoenician} destroy the letter a and recreate the
freeze over to destiny. to sequence and sequestrian relationships. the
roman down alphabet copper cruel tools ingest jealousy for the dirty old
man in the small brick enclave burning shrub slang. speaking many tongued
heretics. last of the odd gods and the daughter. birth the assassin.
i father thee language tree.

in horrors. the arming of a marching. machine. destroy. the campbell
soup demagogue. steel melting pot overarching. his aim and destination.
train writers. rolling MOMA. the two phases the unexplained.
charged insane reporters in your face trying to give you the explanation
the dont make what they give. they cant understand this thing. this thing
that permeates all the strands and strings of the out and in between.
tracks that dream limit blown autumn
traveling under the guise
of sorrow widows
fishing the seas
of the moribund
lashing
slaves
waking up.
to another position.

 

abducted
separated unicorn car smashes back end of black night metallic sounds rubbing against head laughing voices faded in the moving line of soft toned collisions on forlorned tapestries of persuasion vampire eyes blood dripping from tears in scalp debbie rochon on top of the empire state building drinking a soda eating the hearts of mad scribbled griot plaster names subconscious speckled stepping on nails sucking for air trying to get out 3:00 am and strolling to parking lot collapsing in beijing washed up and beaten torn to the brink of starvation watching myself in the mirror of transgression bums for sick infested stitches calling out to wayward selves along borders in notebooks in towers of plenty in caves of emptiness buscar almiento escribir muerta a. mcdonalds b. whitehouse c. george washington d. mickey mouse in white rags alone wounded in the kidney sore puny withered away and detached but back with red slacks and buttons to fly in circles on tops barges wind menagerie “what does it feel like to fall off a ten story building and look around at faces in the sand” “ like fuckin” “like you fuckin died” e. samonita in collage “ventricle of technics” “industrial human revolver” data trashed in scanned reality HIV vibes planted in membranes of alter extremes as linda placed her palms next to my elbow gently stroking the stood up hairs on arm lifting me up to sit upon the bed cold falling back down her lips eyes then sleep. a spiritual supreme.

 
Edgy and Enlightened Literature, Art and Music in the Age of Dementia
   
to top
 
last update: October 14, 2008