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week of September 10 - 16, 2001

Jane Cassady
and
Carol Sircoulomb



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Death of a Mauve Bat! | Sinzibuckwud! | We Put Things In Our Mouths | A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast
I'd Like to Bake Your Good | Stolen Mummies| Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town | Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
I'm a Jew, Are You
| Lizard King of the Laundromat
| I Am My Own Orange County | Paris: It's The Cheese | Poetry Super Highway
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Cobalt Poets | E-mail Rick | Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick

 

 

 

 

 

Jane Cassady
cjane4@excite.com

Bio (auto)

Jane Cassady is from Syracuse, New York, by way of Orange County California. She is the author of 3 chapbooks, the most recent being Young Girl Writing a Love Letter from Inevitable Press. She has appeared in The Lummox Journal, Beyond the Valley of the Contemporary Poets, and Incidental Buildings and Accidental Beauty, an anthology of Orange County poets. Currently, she is wicked Zen. For further information, you should go see that movie Ghost World, which features the poet's favorite bridge.

The following work is Copyright © 2001, and owned by Jane Cassady and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.

.

George Washington Slept Here

...............As if New Jersey were a place you could actually be from
..............................-Rick Lupert

In the state seen quarter by quarter,
the planes you see in the Turnpike sunset
aren't landing there, of course,
like everyone North,they're from the city.

West Orange has a hill
with a backdrop skyline
which inspired bridge and tunnel colonialism.
Hoboken, a strawberry soda
in the way to the Path train.
We keep getting pulled up through
from the ghost stories
the Devil
the Cape May diamonds.

New Jersey invented
American Universal Naming;
The Lido Diner,Springfield.

Here's where they come to ask
why drive
on the parkway
and vice versa.

When Dogma started here,
as I did, God staring out
over Asbury Park
the cameras avoided
the trees growing up through the
arcade-

Come see New Jersey
where entropy began.


Yes, I Swear That's His Name,
I Checked His Driver's License


Christian Bible has the most beautiful green eyes, and I can't stop calling him by his full name. He once saw a liscence plate thet said "believe" while he was questioning, and I had a similar experience with one that said "utopia", only the driver offered me a ride and I said no. We're using words like "flow" and "dogma" and "choice" but I'm thinking "Hmmm...Mrs. Jane Bible...won't work but I could change my name to Bhagavad Gita and we could reproduce like crazy and never run out of jokes to name the children by. In the evening over tea that says "Calm" right on it, I'll ask him "Why?" and he'll say "Because the food tastes better after the dancing" and he'll ask me why and I'll say "Because, Christain Bible, you have the most beautiful green eyes."



Carol Sircoulomb
csircoulomb@kscable.com

Bio (auto)

I live in Wichita Kansas. I am a mother of 3 and am an artist, photographer. I like to write short form poems. I have had poems in E-zines Transparent Words, Prairie Poetry, World Haiku Review, Caught in the Net, Zimmerzine, and in Photo Haiku. I won the poetry competition Miniworks in Charnwood England in 2000, and had a sijo published in an anthology Haiku 2000. I was just notified I will have a haiku in the Haiku Society of America 2001 anthology.

The following work is Copyright © 2001, and owned by Carol Sircoulomb and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.


Hysterectomy

my belly is going to be split
open
for doctors to laugh hysterically and gawk

gawk what a word

thinking this is gross
a tumor the size of a
Volleyball

I say lets take a picture of the team
me holding the ball
arm around the doctor
I want to say oh my god
that was inside of me

Let's play ball


Whistle

From the wooden bridge
Fog rises with the stream
Switching back from the hills
Unable to see pine trees
I hear you whistle my tune.


Sijo......Once Loved

My lips loved to bite your ears and taste your masculine neck.
We would giggle in our passion, rolling and touching in ecstasy.
Now we stare at our computer screens never wanting to touch.

Death of a Mauve Bat! | Sinzibuckwud! | We Put Things In Our Mouths | A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast
I'd Like to Bake Your Good | Stolen Mummies| Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town | Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
I'm a Jew, Are You
| Lizard King of the Laundromat
| I Am My Own Orange County | Paris: It's The Cheese | Poetry Super Highway
Rick's Bookmarks |
Cobalt Poets | E-mail Rick | Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick