Mark Hoback: FGAQ: Poetry CornerThe Sensitive Side of Fried Green al-Qaedas(Untitled)- February 8, 2004 search phrase:Fried Beaver (Google poetry cut-up 6) Fried Beaver Tail - MMMMM This recipe came from my grandpa, Marci. MM...1 small beaver (20 lbs.), cleaned and skinned, cut into 1 inch cubes.Elk Pepper.14 c Butter.14 c Sherry. Fried Beaver Tail - A Marvelous Beast. ..http://blogs.salon.com/0001424/categories/fgaqPoetryCorner/2004/02/08.html#a134 (Untitled)- February 7, 2004 World We only speak in code. The way of our ancestors. Sun, moon, stars, stripes. Remember the time We remember the time before the deluge. Remember the world We remember a world beyond accounting. Let not our words betray us - We only speak in code. Less than fleet, we flee in droves. Oh yes. I'm the great pretender. Pretending that you haven't gone. There is nothing left in this world. Long Tall Shorty, remember Could crack a room in two with just one look. When the...http://blogs.salon.com/0001424/categories/fgaqPoetryCorner/2004/02/07.html#a131 (Untitled)- February 6, 2004 So Long to All of That A comprehensive statement is needed. A comprehensive statement shall be made. Whither, flourish, it's all about the guessing. In the first stages of miscorrelation there is water earth air fire. How about the time, unbeknownst to you, that you were followed You had not an inkling, not a tingle. Second sense Not when the first is still swimming 'neath the surface. A long smooth stalking. Luxury. Jimbo bangs his head,...http://blogs.salon.com/0001424/categories/fgaqPoetryCorner/2004/02/06.html#a126 (Untitled)- February 2, 2004 My dad was a jarhead, through and through. He came home after a long tour of duty during Nam and attacked me. Didn&146;t even say hello. Just rammed my head into the living room wall. I had long hair, maybe two inches, but the bad thing was those two inches were bangs. He grabbed a razor and just kept hacking. He eventually got it all off. My head was bleeding from thirty places. Yeah, now I understand.http://blogs.salon.com/0001424/categories/fgaqPoetryCorner/2004/02/02.html#a100 (Untitled)- February 1, 2004 CelesteI was rolling down a mountain, I was riding on the storm, With the ghosts of Natty Bumpo and Celeste to keep me warm. I was flying like an eagle, I was swooping like a dove, When vertigo &150; sudden, knife sharp, paralyzing reality, mind grown numb with organic fear. Yeahhh &150; Motorcrash. The server is down. Picture: Ancient jewelry reconstituting, shaking free from the earth. Diamonds swell up like blisters on a...http://blogs.salon.com/0001424/categories/fgaqPoetryCorner/2004/02/01.html#a98 |