Poetry of Issue #2                        Page 17
Table of Contents Click page 1 Click page 2 Click page 3 Click page 4 Click page 5 Click page 6 Click page 7 Click page 8 Click page 9 Click page 10 Click page 11 Click page 12 Click page 13 Click page 14 Click page 15 Click page 16 Click page 18 Click page 19 Click page 20 Click page 21 The Blog Bog The Mag Rack	Hang on Gabby Hayes - Hoppy needs you you try not to plummet to cascade would be even worse stay next to plumb loco Gabby what would a cowhand do without a sidekick to gape gap toothed with a gasp have you ever seen the chatter in Central Park bouncing on rock more recent than a shield and older far than even Gabby grey bearded performer on the left hand of heroism bold and meaningless cataracts whose depths peer back directly into beholders daring to stare down that abyss into which everything glibly babbling plunges                             John Marvin	Symphonic Ocean Ending why hasn't anyone ever realized dying is the worst possible way to end a life even if you're left handed or can't stand regimentation OK perhaps they have and it just hasn't come up in conversation and speaking of conversation what's up with poetry readings should one read with feeling and what about musical accompaniment instrumentation is always a question maybe a laid back flute and rhythm section like the one in Coffee Cantata remember when a jazz flute was playing and sitting nearby was Jacqueline Bisset as his girl Cathy so smart and steadfast but not without concern and featuring the archetype of cool in his khaki raincoat and looking carefully around was Frank Bullit who spoke softly and you knew inside he was completely on top and how powerfully he thrust his long green Mustang through sunny San Francisco forcing the very bad assassins in their hot black Charger into self immolation but the assassins Killer and Phil were gangsters and always up to no good and certainly not Vietnamese Buddhists kneeling in prayer on the streets of Saigon no their slaughter was involuntary but just because they had caused a violent death earlier and even though they almost botched it nothing good was going to come of them on the other hand what about a chamber orchestra of about fifty instruments a reading accompanied by a Beethoven sonata on a beach as a tide comes in there would have to be moonlight and there would have to be a mild temperature and a sea breeze would have to stir up a light surf but not chill the audience one would be reading with one's back to the players and waves and the audience would of course be enraptured by the Nietzschean synthesis of music and verse but the waves would begin lapping with more and more excitement at the feet of the orchestra as crescendos excited even ancient spirits of place and the ensemble's discipline would be tested severely by danger as swells swamped the spit valves of slide trombones and the brass would began to gurgle as their instruments filled with sea water especially French horns because their bells point down but thankfully double bases could be called upon to serve as life boats for woodwinds who are notoriously inept swimmers after dark and even listeners would fear the consequences of the upwelling and take flight stampeding toward nearby dunes and startling sandpipers on the beach skittering around the edges of the congregation pecking at sand fleas and as intelligent as sandpipers are known to be even they would be hard pressed to understand what all the fuss was about among creatures often seen scampering and swimming in surf and they would wonder why hominoids don't know that sooner or later everyone dies                             John Marvin ___	Des Tours de Babel       or the graft craft "tout thèse est un prothèse"             Glas come on Babel let's do the twist take me by my metal hand lead me up through shadows and through dampness past narrow slits through which to peer across killing fields where enemies dare not linger on stained grass lest they recoil into past memories fading with time fading while climbing spiraling stairs or aspiring asters unknowable since one glowing globe cannot become an eternity whose end keeps falling down sparking random fluctuations in a clinamen swirl Eve and Adam avoided while whirling like a plaque in metal and stone inscribing swerve of shore and blend of river and bay ebbing with lunar currents and solar flares lighting satellites a way to gyres a swallow and a sooty tern -                             John Marvin__