The Last Bender, Chapter 12

Filed under:Fiction,The Last Bender — posted by jonfrankel on November 25, 2008 @ 6:39 am

CHAPTER TWELVE At first my eyes felt like smashed oysters. The soft inside all mixed up with the shell. Slivers of light noisily never aligned. My mouth full of blood and tooth chips. A gluey crust between my lips.             I was afraid to move. Afraid to feel the damage. I didn’t want to reach [...]

Cloysterd in These Living Walls of Jet

Filed under:Blogh — posted by jonfrankel on November 21, 2008 @ 9:44 am

Manerly Margery Mylk and Ale Ay, beshrewe yow! Be my fay This wanton clarkis be nyse allway. Avent, avent, my popagay! “What, will ye do nothing but play” Tully, valy, strawe, let be I say! Gup, Cristian Clowte, gup, Jak of the Vale, With manerly Margery Mylk and Ale. “Be Gadm nye be a praty [...]

The Last Bender, Chapter 11

Filed under:Fiction,The Last Bender — posted by jonfrankel on November 19, 2008 @ 5:58 am

CHAPTER ELEVEN             On the way home I drank a half gallon of warm tonic water and twisted through the dial in search of something besides cooking shows. It took that and two aspirin dissolved beneath the torrents of bubbly drink to go over Clara Turback. She made some sort of a twisted sense. What [...]

It’s All In A Name

Filed under:Blogh — posted by jonfrankel on November 18, 2008 @ 1:54 pm

Lang Po and its descendents are the poetic equivalent of the Progressive, Jazz/Rock fusion music of the 1970’s. They are the Emerson Lake and Palmer of the poetry world. The Mahuvishnu Orchestra of the poetry world. The Yes, Genesis and Gentle Giant of the poetry world. The Strawbs of the poetry world. The Chick Correa [...]

Evil

Filed under:Blogh,other poets,Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on November 14, 2008 @ 4:56 pm

Evil While the red-stained mouths of machine guns ring Across the infinite expanse of day; While red or green, before their posturing king, The massed battalions break and melt away; And while a monstrous frenzy runs a course that makes of a thousand men a smoking pile– Poor fools!–dead, in summer, in the grass, On [...]

The Last Bender, Chapter 10

Filed under:Fiction,The Last Bender — posted by jonfrankel on November 12, 2008 @ 7:22 am

CHAPTER TEN             Despite vigorous protest I left Linda a C note to pay my part of the check and drove uptown to twist Clara Turback’s arm. For the second time that day I found myself budging along with the creeps, the shysters, and the shaved freaks who push numbers and little guys around for [...]

All the Living Cities of the Globe

Filed under:Blogh,other poets,Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on November 6, 2008 @ 10:09 am

This is the apocalyptic, visionary Whitman, the Whitman who is akin to Rimbaud’s Illuminations. Here, in a single stanza he goes from a vision of ice to a vision of an unearthly city, utterly destroyed. This was before the civil war. He seems to have ascended to a Hurqulayan Interzone. Or else he fell asleep [...]

The Last Bender, Chapter 9

Filed under:Fiction,The Last Bender — posted by jonfrankel on November 5, 2008 @ 7:01 am

CHAPTER NINE             “I’d like to suck his cock,” she said, looking very fem in her lowcut, black dress, drop earrings, and gold necklace. “Look at those ass cheeks. Shit, they show right through.”   She kicked off her burgundy suede pumps. “I wonder what his fingers look like.”   She stretched and wiggled her toes, coral [...]

The Plotte

Filed under:Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on November 1, 2008 @ 4:01 pm

The plotte thickens she is a snatch purser or a pursed snatch is a plotte thickened