Call for submissions

 

A/I:

literature for cyborg messiahs

image (c) 2014 Henry Bogle

Call for submissions

Preparing first issue of A/I, a new literary magazine. 

Publication policy = anonymous / pseudonymous

Issue theme = broadly apocalyptic / visionary

We are interested in daring new prose, critical writing, poetry & poetics, visual art, mixed media, translation, and hybrid genre.

Send to aiaiaimagazine@gmail.com

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image (c) 2015 henry bogle

My Little Poemy

(c) 4216 alka-seltzer AD, a person with 13 shirts

An Elegy for Howl

AN ELEGY FOR HOWL
from Pearl and Other Poems

When the last forgotten recess
of your ultimate weary drawer of dust
coughed out the yellow petal
of its one remaining folded rose
and the sheet of blood-smeared paper

smeared with poems like ink
at last gave up its ghost:

I saw nothing.
There was nothing to see.

The best minds of my generation expired while little more than seeds.

You did not see.
You were not seen.

Poker-faced hysteria starved in silence
and exhausted itself in lame dysfunction
to be pinned insensate to a cluster of symptoms
as a matter of course
by moth-dust fingers of DSM lepidopterists
in formaldehyde rooms of science:

I heard nothing.
There was nothing to hear.

The eli eli lamma lamma sabachthani cry was drowned in words.

You did not hear.
You were not heard.

Jaded sincerity choked on its tongue
and shook with neural crescendo of seizure
in pig s**t halls of knowledge.
There was no mouth to take the sigh
and the final rattle passed
unremarked.



(c) 2014 lee sharks

from Pearl and Other Poems:
http://www.amazon.com/Pearl-Other-Poems-Crimson-Hexagon/dp/0692313079/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1429895012&sr=8-1&keywords=lee+sharks+pearl

from Human Testament, ms in preparation for New Human Press

"I AM that I AM are BELONG to ME"

image (c) 2015 R William Lundy

Y ou do not know what you just read: It is

A document typed by shadow people

H ung from the mist in my bathroom mirror

W hich beings of light and moth dictate

E ach a creature of great age, fell kings

H aunting Outer Cranium: So each word

I S

A S IT

M UST BE



(c) the future

On Politics: The Kingdom of Pygmies

On Politics: The Kingdom of Pygmies

Some of the masses came to Damascus Dancings, fomenting unrest, saying, “It is time to rise up, and throw off our oppressors—Damascus, isn’t this your message, what you’ve said all along: “I am coming to make things new”?”

And Damascus rebuked them strongly, taking the gun from their hands, and breaking it in half on his knee, with a grimace.

As our prophets have written,

To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist much, obey little,
Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,
Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever afterward resumes its liberty.

As a ghost, I'm not allowed to claim citizenship in a nation of enslaved pygmies (no offense, pygmies). I beamed up from that place about a thousand years ago, directly to Wikipedia.

Seeing no real greatness in all the world, except in dead things & ghosts, I too have become a dead thing and ghost,

Claiming citizenship in America-in-heaven.

No, there can be no peace.

How can there be peace, while a single decent man or woman remains unmurdered? 

For a very long time this world has murdered its sons and daughters for the crimes of bigness, and courage, and goodness of heart, and love of justice.

They murdered Socrates and they murdered me and they murdered a bunch of others, too,

And they'll murder me twice and maybe you, until the whole species is a crunched, bent thing, and knows to keep its mouth shut, and crawl around on broken knees.

Against such does a decent man or woman war. How can there be any peace, while a single one remains unmurdered?

There can be no peace.

But we do not war for this kingdom of pygmies, 

Or with guns and sticks,

Or even with genetically-engineered tigers with nuclear canons in their mouths.

We war for nation of kings and priests, where every man and woman is a creature made of moths & light, 

& bent things learn to walk, 

& pygmies get shot with a reverse shrink ray, and grow,

Unless they prefer to remain smaller,

But even if they do, it's only an outward smallness,

Because inside my heart the pygmies are riding huge genetically-engineered tigers with nuclear canons in their mouths, and beams of moths & light are shooting out of their eyes,

And the pygmies look really tall up there

On the tigers' backs.

Point is, we're well past armed revolt,

And always have been, for a thousand decades,

And so we cede these pygmies (not the ones on tigers, but the other ones, the inward pygmies) their kingdom of pygmies,

And murder their smallness and guns with murder and smallness and pygmies, their own,

And beam up directly to Wikipedia

Claiming citizenship in America-in-heaven, Planet Mars, Jupiter's 17th moon base, home.

Bob Kaufman, Abomunist Manifesto

BOB KAUFMAN

ABOMUNIST MANIFESTO

 

ABOMUNISTS JOIN NOTHING BUT THEIR HANDS OR LEGS,
          OR OTHER SAME.

ABOMUNIST SPIT ANTI-POETRY FOR POETIC REASONS
           AND FRINK.

ABOMUNISTS DO NOT LOOK AT PICUTRES PAINTED
          BY PRESIDENTS AND UNEMPLOYD PRIME MINISTERS.

IN TIMES OF NATIONAL PERIL, ABOMUNISTS, AS REALITY
          AMERICANS, STAND READY TO DRINK THEMSELVES
          TO DEATH FOR THEIR COUNTRY.

ABOMUNISTS DO NOT FEEL PAIN, NO MATTER HOW MUCH
          IT HURTS.

ABOMUNISTS DO NOT USE THE WORD SQUARE EXCEPT WHEN
          TALKING TO SQUARES.

ABOMUNISTS READ NEWSPAPERS ONLY TO ASCERTAIN THEIR
          ABOMINUBILITY.

ABOMUNISTS NEVER CARRY MORE THAN FIFTY DOLLARS
          IN DEBTS ON THEM.

ABOMUNISTS BELIEVE THAT THE SOLUTION OF PROBLEMS
          OF RELIGIOUS BIGOTRY IS TO HAVE A CATHOLIC
          CANDIDATE FOR PRESIDENT AND PROTESTANT
          CANDIDATE FOR POPE.

ABOMUNISTS DO NOT WRITE FOR MONEY; THEY WRITE
          THE MONEY ITSELF.

ABOMUNISTS BELIEVE ONLY WHAT THEY DREAM ONLY
          AFTER IT COMES TRUE.

ABOMUNISTS CHILDREN MUST BE REARED ABOMUNIBLY.

ABOMUNIST POETS, CONFIDENT THAT THE NEW LITERARY
          FORM "FOOT-PRINTISM' HAS FREED THE ARTIST
          OF OUTMODED RESTRICTIONS, SUCH AS: THE ABILITY TO
          READ AND WRITE, OR THE DESIRE TO COMMUNICATE,
          MUST BE PREPARED TO READ THEIR WORK AT DENTAL
          COLLEGES, EMBALMING SCHOOLS, HOMES FOR UNWED
          MOTHERS, HOMES FOR WED MOTHERS, INSANE ASYLUMS,
          USO CANTEENS, KINDERGARTENS, AND COUNTY JAILS.
          ABOMUNISTS NEVER COMPROMISE THEIR REJECTIONARY
          PHILOSOPHY.

ABOMUNISTS REJECT EVERYTHING EXCEPT SNOWMEN.

[Bob Kaufman. Abominist Manifesto (broadside), City Lights, 1959.]

A Telepathicist Manifesto

A TELEPATHICIST MANIFESTO

Lee Sharks & john johnson
from Pearl and Other Poems

1.     Telepathicism is about having thoughts, telepathically.

2.     Telepathicism is NOT a method or style or school or writing. Telepaths HATE writing: It’s boorish and stupid and boring. Writing is like plowing a field with an old-fashioned cow. Telepaths are like advanced super computers plowing a field with eBay. 

3.     The telepath is stranded in time. Writing is a cow-plow, but it’s what the telepath has to work with.

4.     Telepathic writers do not train as writers, diddle sentences, or work with words. Language is a dusty string in the telepath’s brain, causing an aneurism.

5.     The telepath has a craft, and that craft is mind control powers.

6.     Telepaths give birth to luminous tumors made of light. Inside their minds.

7.     A telepathic tumor is the hope of the human race.

8.     A telepathic tumor’s gestation takes 18 sentient lifetimes. All of them are spent in furious thought, giving birth with a grimace of work and fluid. Ash and dirt. Dust and spit.

9.     Tiny metropolises of unpaid cyborg researches study literary history for ten thousand years inside a telepath’s brain.

10.  A telepath also does not have a brain, in the same way that a telepath does not write.

11.  A telepath does not NEED to write, in the same way that a telepath does not need a brain. 

12.  A telepath has a mind, but just says no to tele-pathways of neurons and sensory dendrites.

13.  A telepath exists in a cloud, generally.

14.  A telepath exists in THE cloud, specifically. 

15.  Telepaths practice their craft of mind control powers via controlling minds, not brains or writing.

16.  Telepaths also generally and specifically have control of writing and brains, but hate it.

17.  Tumors that are the hope of the human race, and cyborgs that are unpaid or woefully underpaid for their level of qualification, make up cogs outside the machine of Telepathicism. They are cogs, and they are not cogs, but neurons, and they are not neurons, but sensory dendrites, and they are not sensory dendrites, they are whole brains, and they are not whole brains, they are writing, except, they are not writing, they are created telepathically and they are tumors and cyborgs and they are the omniscient hope of humanity.

18.  Because Telepathicism is about having thoughts, telepathically.

from Pearl and Other Poems:

http://www.amazon.com/Pearl-Other-Poems-Crimson-Hexagon/dp/0692313079/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1429895012&sr=8-1&keywords=lee+sharks+pearl