John Sakkis

from RAVE ON!

My collection of tapes has appeared or is forthcoming

This stoop went medical has appeared or is forthcoming

This password touching privates has appeared or is forthcoming

Some fluid coagulated at supper has appeared or is forthcoming

Make believe ocean-going on hard drives has appeared or is forthcoming

Set a powder keg on fire etc. has appeared or is forthcoming

Stand attention soaked with water has appeared or is forthcoming

Strum a lyre tattoo with your daughter has appeared or is forthcoming

Island hop a baker’s dozen easy has appeared or is forthcoming

The Lost Geese on Sunday has appeared or is forthcoming

A sea-fairing rager has appeared or is forthcoming

Raze the ocean at an ungodly hour has appeared or is forthcoming

The sun is already rising has appeared or is forthcoming

Fox Mulder

I’m a Federal Agent who time forgot
A windbreaker over-modulating
My work demands I live where I live
I live in background noise
And the list goes on, etc.
The last known photo of me
Presents no special problem
Though under lock and key
Not everything is a dark conspiracy
If I meet you in a warehouse
The temp must be 50 F or less
We’ll appear more 16mm
We can’t maintain this adversity
Without dominant color
There can be no blue-daylight
On stilts, a dark tone yields a dark tone
Our sunset should be as muted as my apartment
An indeterminate white lettering
On my ceiling, a Space Odyssey
Cinerama, a light tone and then
Another abduction, another
Set-piece from Moby’s Play
My eyes are twitching
An orange polarizing filter
They appear as participants
A reinforced fiber fading
In the crowd, I carry a flashlight
Under my clothes, a wireless
Microphone for low background noise
And now we have to move on
Start a new family, a new place to call home
This warehouse is blown up a thousand hues,
An easy salary and submission, a one-horse UFO
Industrial salvage clubhouse, don’t get me wrong
You’re not going to meet your soul mate here
But there’s a certain sense of prosody to be proud of
As we’re currently relying on intuition and pheromones for guidance

There Are No Ravers In San Francisco

Like a new born baby overworked and enraptured
I’m spotting a glorious modern placenta in a certain slant of light

I’m calling for you Sierra Sue, your son is dead and I’m
Aping this goldmine, get it together Mr. Kirk, mind
Your Ginger-red stacks, your neon-velcro club-foot deformation

All the Club Kids are growing up in limousine limbo
Spoiled rotten in the backseat I see you buzzing softly
Like the jawbone of a beached whale ribbed for her pleasure
My tongue is on the floor tonguing your heel

Your umbilical bellybutton sucking at the Bay
Is the Gold Coast highway thumbing her cracks
This World’s Fair celebration, this endangered anthem

Freedom ‘96

A silver cord uncoiling from our chests
Is a caravan of cars, a buzzline
Ties all this astral business together

And the price of a building in a low-lying part of town
Is a pressure cooker, a glow-in-the-dark
Area code for a few hours
Our bell shaped train wreck was an epidermis
A private earthquake sculpted and assembled
Requiring large permits

I have no dog in this fight
The checkpoint is rotting rotisserie on a bender in his car
The Sutro Tower is impossible and I am dreaming of it
There were no UFOs, only green lasers in the shape
Of humans skipping rope across a mountain

for Micah Ballard
Palm Fronds vs Ancient Astronauts (eat algae from the manna machine)
Hella <sic> Egyptian Obelisks vs. Bomb Boulders On Easter Island
When Man First Landed On The Moon Our Image Of The Universe Changed Forever vs.
The Grays
Spice 1 “the 6ft Chuckie doll” vs. Devil Worship From Codpieces To Corsets vs. Find The Facts Instantly

We made humans out of chicken-wire and bird feathers
I’m always eating 7-11 nachos at the worst times

More than being on this big dumb bender
I’m feeling guilty for this X-Files marathon

My dew-rag is a yellow baby blanket and
It smells like field-porn outside

Noah’s Ark wasn’t a “DNA Bank”
Emoticons and exclamation points ad nauseum

Out the trunk feel the funk
Hearted followed by that Orson Welles slow clap gif.

Ant heads resemble penis heads
Bashar al-Assad, Muammar Gaddafi, BART Police!

Skateboarding is not the 6th element of Hip Hop
John Vanderslice sounds like a Psi-Trance DJ name

This is a poem about my ex-girlfriends
I can’t think of anything smellier than a poet’s orgy

Taboo has the ass of an ex
“White men say cock/ black men say dick”

Did you know that “Language Poetry”
Is an anagram for “ugly Reagan Poet?”


Philip Whalen

Who is there to see in SF anyway?
Everybody’s moved to Oakland