FALL 1996 ISSUE
Whatza Saucebox?
By T.L. Kelly
"Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine...."
The Story of Aileen Wuornos
By The Aileen Wuornos Defense Committee
Aileen "Lee" Wuornos is on Death Row in Broward County, convicted of the murder of six men. Lee says all of the men raped or attempted to rape her. We Believe Aileen Acted in Self-Defense. At the time of the killings, Lee was working as a highway prostitute. All of the men she killed were men who picked her up and who, she says, violently attacked her....
Totally Naked and Running Around: One Man's Online Adventure
By Dinty W. Moore
My first attempt at cybersex frustrated, Thoreau's words still ringing in my ears, I had no alternative it seemed but to gender-switch myself. Heck, they do it in Shakespeare's plays all the time. It is almost a literary tradition....
shunnamitistic
By Jemiah Jefferson
When I was fifteen, we merely talked. After ten solid minutes of silence, the darjeeling steeping in the pot, Rowan Leigh stretched himself in the wicker chair like a cat, then leaned forward and poured tea into the china cup before me. "Have you ever had your toes sucked?"....
Intimacy
By Bill Dean
She sat in the darkness again. It always seemed better in the darkness. Most women alone at night like to have a light on, like to have sounds going. Make it seem like a family or at least a couple were home, living normally. She liked the darkness though. The silence. Like a silent shadow in the middle of the city. She leaned back into the leather chair, feeling her skin against the glossy animal hide, and spread her legs slightly....
nothing can come between us
By Jemiah Jefferson
They had come to the end of another session, and Brian closed his sketchbook, stretching back with a wide yawn. David followed suit more slowly, wiping the charcoal smears off his hands with a baby wipe. "I can barely see straight," Brian claimed. "Sun goes down so pathetically early"....
Crocus
By D.C. Palter
He was fat and ugly and knew it, and the woman sitting next to him on the airplane was beautiful, and he knew she knew it. He also knew he lacked the personal charisma or overabundance of money, the only hope for someone like himself to draw such a woman to him. Except for a long string of prostitutes, one-night stands when both he and the girl had been wearing very thick beer goggles, and an ex-wife uglier and meaner than an angry grizzly bear, he was a virgin....
Sex/Ski/Ska
By Kathleen Ely
That's what I was looking forward to. Kids gone. Just Tim and I on the road to Red Lodge. Left about one, with Chuck, the bass player, nested in the back seat of the big bronze Suburban Tim bought this week, pulling the trailer with the band's equipment. We laughed and talked all the way down, stopping at Taco Bell in Bozeman to fuel up. A gorgeous day, bright and sunny, winter's end light in Montana, cruising along the Yellowstone seeing the results of the recent floods: massive chunks of ice along the banks and fields. Along the way I read Tim and Chuck their horoscopes from a new book I just bought and we all say, yes, yes, yes, as we hear them. Then turn south into the Beartooth Absarokees, where the mountains are touched, say the Crow, where the little people live, where anything can happen....
Seismologically Sunswished Interference
By Chris Hagelstein
In the aftermath of a mid-summer blazed day which fried the city of Dallas into charred anthrax, a woman vultured out of her office and tore down route 12 in a purplesque Chevy Malibu towards an offdesert town where Roy Samscott roamed, a lumbering workeringham made of rawhide and granite, in a modest one-room hotel at "Downcore." His muscles ripped and glazed in shimmering propensity as Jo-Ann upped the speedometer with her every thought of him....
Lunch: Chapter 8 of a Novel of Erotic Obsession
By Karen Moline
Lunchtime, and only then, Olivia says. Her voice has tightened again, she is fighting him with rules, regretful, guilty. Not every day, and never at weekends. An hour stolen, maybe two, when she could dash across the park and into the flat, and then leave, fleeing back to safety. If she could. In the secrecy of this hideaway, never at her studio. Never call her at her studio, the machine is on all the time, of course he knows that already, she never answers the phone when she is working, and will not pick it up now even if she hears his voice....
The Dance
By Artemesia
The room is enormous, but with the hundreds of people inside, there is a feeling of being underwater, the heat from the gyrating bodies hanging over me like a heavy wool curtain. I can barely see through the haze, the smoke so thick that I am wearing a veil of it through which each person remains strictly anonymous....
hydrocarbon
By Benjamin Elijah Griffin
You will reach out and touch the black vinyl. You will think of the sexiness of the human form when it looks as if it is rendered in liquid obsidian. You will savior sensations of gels and goos through a latex barrier. The ribs will remind you of grooves pressed into 120 gram 30 centimeter discs twirling around high nickel chrome shaft at rate of .1045 linear meters per second at the outer rim....
Blue Moon Over Paradise
By Lisa Prosimo
Sam was tired. He stretched, rotated his shoulders, tried to work the ache out of his muscles. Just a little more work, then he'd stop. A few more bushes, that's all; then he'd call it quits. It had been a long day and he suddenly realized he was hungry. He gathered the last of the dried brush and carried it to his truck, looked around at the work he had done and was satisfied. Sam liked the hard work, it made him brown and fit....
How To Worship the One-Eyed God
By Shock54
What is it like to worship the One-Eyed God? You stand in the kitchen cooking the magic snowcone. It started as much as a half or even a whole ounce of cocaine. You bring the water up to a boil in your favorite small pan. You get the soup ladle and drop the cocaine as crystal and rock into the ladle. Then you add 1/3 of the amount by weight of baking soda. Next you spoon enough of the boiling water to bring the bubbling magic into solution....
She's Got You
By Lyn Pierre
what are you going to do
in the night -- you are sweating, wasting from the summer heat
what are you going to do when
she takes you
she gets down on her knees
because she wants to
and sucks the last remaining drops
of fluid from your body....
Coming Closer
By Lyn Pierre
Touch you, tingle
fingertips
hips rise
thickness and warm ecstasy
spit in the fire
I feel you up
you feel me in you....
the egg's red pool: an essay on love
By Padma Jared Thornlyre
Branches shed their
needles and cones,
hetaeric wine
trickles from marble
hands, meteors
sizzle, the colossus
Roars
and on Her knees....
Drifting Apart
By Padma Jared Thornlyre
I write with wooden
Cock the green word-
I am the cloven hoof.
I am on your cliff
By bloody nails,
My moon-from the ivory
Forest on the slopes
Of yonder mountain....
Forty-Second Street, 3AM
By Ernest Slyman
Of the night's neon bright sexual pleasures, we sat in judgment--
The acts all great or small within us,
And whether a thing is well or poorly done,
The subtle acts of joyous melancholy and bliss were wrung,
And who has not been touched by them?
Who has not kissed the great void of fleshy worlds,
Or been touched by the spirits rich within us,
Godlike orgasms shrilly calling in our bones,
Or drank from the holy water that runs from us....
Starfish
By Ernest Slyman
The moonlit swirls of tiny ecstatic sperm dance
In the blue water, spinning clockwise, and she knows by tasting them
The dreams of her children, flickering in the luminous waves
Of the ocean and stinging her with such joy and tenderness
That she cries out, swimming up to meet the milky clouds halfway,
Singing to herself and yearning for the touch....
Eating Stars
By Carol Bachofner
My tongue goes out over the window sill
into the misty evening trying to catch stars, tasty
and sweet and spun together like cotton candy;
I licked stars on those sticky nights of my girlhood,
swallowed them down, wonderful and wickedly thick,
into that place where breath and love begins....
What I Need
By Carol Bachofner
Before I see you again, coffee!
Strong espresso crowned by light
frothy coif must precede the familiar
roll of your voice, that husky dark
music I grew to love. The window
of my car should be fogged slightly....
moment
By Justin Hall
her cheek brushed his and there passed between an undeniable warmth
he clasped her neck in his left hand as her voice tickled his ear
I want to feel you inside of me
another time
she'd been drinking too much champagne
those bubbles always got to her so quicker
boy I'm pretty drunk, she said
better get you out of those wet things then
sarah replied, reaching for the top button....
Aching
By Tina Hagen
After several seasons
I can still smell your touch
Feel your look
See your sound
...hear your taste.
My body aches for your surreptitiously surprising entry....
Legs at your sides
knees drawn up
resounding to a drum-
beat
sex exposed, you wait
for the command
your whole land
stretches before me
neon on my naked skin
images dancing before my eyes
new skin stretched across these old bones
dancing, dancing amok in the house of the sun
pulled tight as a piano wire,
making that same perfect tone