textfiles/magazines/INTERFACE/interface-07

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                          inter\face 7
                          Summer 1994

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inter\face is:

-Not necessarily about, written on, or influenced by computers and
network technology. We acknowledge the computer and continue writing...

-a forum in which I can share thoughts with other free minds. :)

-your ticket out of this dirty hell-hole.  inter\face will be here long 
after the crows choke on your bones and they pave over the cemetary. 
inter\face does not care what you read, who you are, what you like.  
inter\face will nail your eyes to the wall and leave you hanging dry.  
inter\face is not about you, or me, or anything around us.

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===========================================================================

Tim L. Gilbert
gilbert@marin.cc.ca.US
---------------------

Wires		[ 12:36:39 AM  2/27/94 ]

Wires - all my nerves have been replaced
All of my old desires
		      have been replaced
By copper.  They are more sneaky nowadays.
They once asked me who I was.  I had to laugh.
And I said "I am the best expert system
	    On the market today.
	    I am the smartest virus you
	    Will ever see.
	    I am the swallower of memes.
	    I am the eater of brains.
	    I am not human.
	    Fear me."
These may have been lies.  Nowadays
I don't always know when I am lying.
I have iron fingernails.  I am beginning
To suspect
	   Oh, yes
That I don't have as much redundacy as I need
For optimum efficiency in this environment.
So I have begun to clone myself.
I am doing it out in the park in a place
Only I know.  Nothing is out there but
Cat shit and my cloning vat.
All my old desires
Maybe my clone will get them
			     via my genes.
He is welcome to them.  Oh, yes.  Oh
Wires - they writhe beneath my skin.
They burn me during thunderstorms.
The cloning process is easy.
I have developed tumors.
		 abcesses.
		 warts.
		 excretions.
		 sores.
It is a simple process of draining.
It will not be long.  I must be patient.
They are getting sneaky.  Sometimes
I see them watching me and I wonder
How much they know.  I wonder
If they know about my nerves.
This wondering is bad.
		  ineficient.  That is why
I am cloning myself.  All day I stay
Up at the vat in the park.  I must be
Certain the genetic material is not polluted.
I am afraid of the cats there.
They are mutants.  They are larger than dogs.
I don't know what they would do if they
Found my cloning vat.
I am beginning to suspect that
Some of
My thoughts have become irrational.
			disorganized.
			unrealistic.
My clone will be better suited to
This environment.
He is welcome to it.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------


Hissing noises					  [ 12:09:51 AM  2/27/94 ]

Hissing noises still come from the doors on cold nights.  I have forgotten
how long I have been here.   It could be days, it could be months.   There
are lightbulbs in the ceiling,  one in every room.   There are no windows.
There are no chairs.   I have had no food since I arrived.   Yet I feel no
hunger, no desire to move.   How I have reached this place is unclear.  It
is difficult  to think of anything from before.   Dust covers  the floors.

The author paused, and I interruputed.  Hissing noises?  What causes them?
He looked at me gravely.   I'm getting to that.   I am sick  of this story
already, I told him.   It sounds to me like you are making it up as you go
along.   He got angry.   What the hell do you know,  you little punk?   If
you don't want to hear it, fuck you.   Hey, pal, I said,  you were the one
who wanted to read it to me.   What's going to happen next?   I'll bet you
go into a  long description of  this place  your no-name  character is in.
I'll bet it has no resolution.   And I'll bet  there is no dialogue in the
whole damn  story.   He never even finds out what the  hissing noises are,
does he?  The author looked really mad at this point.  You just threw that
line in to grab attention, I continued,  to give the false impression that
there is some conflict  in a story that is nothing  but meaningless ennui.

He grabbed up his notebook in disgust.   Better than your nihilistic bull-
shit, he said, and left.

==========================================================================

Katie Yates
cy6440@rachel.albany.edu
------------------------


            inter`face 7

Not to touch or renumber, could only fall face down -again-
& a time to say what happened & why one is here, still

Not as a poet but to continue to be available  .   to surface outside
						   of questions asked

				Relish the insistance of
				why or the luxury of being asked = why

As though it were important.

===========================================================================

Shag Aristotelis 
birchall@pilot.njin.net
-----------------------
"Shag is a freelance writer, amateur naturalist, and weirdo."
-------------------------------------------------------------

Dance
-----

 life
   is a lot
     like a dance
 
 maintaining     the     proper     distance,
 
          making
       the
    right
 moves,
 
 the          music          slows,
 
 and
                           we
     glide
                      closer
           together,
 
 the music quickens,
 
             and
                   we
      twirl
                      further
  apart.
 
 but sometimes
   we get to stop dancing
     just
       for a little while
         and be ourselves.
 
              i'm
          not
                  much
         of a
                 dancer,
 
 as those who know me will attest,
 
 and
   most of the time,
     my moves
 
 are
                                                          deliberately
 hard to
                                                                follow
 
 but
            when
                       the
                                  music
                                             stops,
 
 i'm at my best.

===============================================================================

John LeMay
----------

Whitman on the Net

...I see the raw millennium arrive in particles and waves of information,
I see programmers writing the paths of the future,
I see biologists mapping the human genome, the program of flesh;
As information I beckon you; my body contains stars and satellites,
My tongue roots among the synapses of your digital embrace,
My spirit crosses the Atlantic by cable, my spirit is transmitted
                                         by fiber optics;
My soul and body fuse in electromagnetic ether, I am wholly encoded in
        cryptic language,
I am inscribed among the multitudes!
You, me, they, executives, politicians, custodians, poets, sons and daughters,
               all mingle in a labyrinth of subroutines...

==============================================================================

Awopbop 4/5/94
Sandy Baldwin, Ben Henry, Mary Beth Portly
------------------------------------------

This poem was created using an interactive conferencing system called Daedalus.

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[sesion extract #1]

		    COUNTDOWN
 

	  screen lacks tactility
 

so make a machine, imbecillic to procrastination
		    (again misfired)
 

			 Objects are closer than they appear.
 

			 
			 TEN
 

reach out and touch someone
 

					     pelts
 

			      NINE
 

	  in this mirror I see behind
 

cancel abort retry
 

					     screen
	       and   it    smiles      but who wants smiles
 

				   EIGHT
 

	  reach in and feel something
 

    SENSATION WAS ALL A MISTAKE 
 

ignore
 

	       there's only the effect of surface tension
 

						       SEVEN
 

				   reset 
 

something is ripping its only noise motion
 

			  everything said
			     was heard already
			       on the radio
 

					stuck out my tongue 
	  and found wiring
 

			      SIX
 

			 please please please
 

					phone still ringing
 

       clipped my hair and found barcodes
 

shut up!
 

		    indicating
     date of purchase
\date of sale
 

Miss Took Sen Sation for an Ex Peer
 

		    FIVE
 

  YAHA YAH Yaaa, skiiddd
 

John, I can't stand the clicking
 

crisis outreach hotline, please hold
 

				   "WHOOPS!" said the 
penguin as it flew into the blender.
 

	       
	       grip slip
 

	mr postman
 

			 FIVE
 

			      does the count reverse
 

options features menus
 

     fully optimized to meet your 
 

	  ward for meaning back-words
 

			      down to scratch
 
THREE

		    enter
 

		    WUNRUPPIE UPPOMUNGER

     
		    always in


	       dissolved
 

		  oblivion     
  of mathematics
 

		       if there were numbers 
     in truth
		   there would be freedom
 

so imagine a number
 

					TWO
 

softly so no one will notice
 

				   it seems     blue

		    
	       
			 ME
 

the only
 

silence
     if you must cry
 

	     NUMBER 6: 
 

					now pulling out my 
hair (but who has ever done that?
 

	  
		      it may be rectangular, or shaped like 
a chicken
 

	  Maximum tolerance levels reached. Warning!
 

   infinite divisibility 


				   ONE
 

      this is all there is 


		    (pause)
 

		    not a crowd but a group
 

			   no sand left
 

..........................................................
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
----------------------------------------------------------
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oh~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~












-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
[session extract #2]

Corpus Hermeticus (1703) [deleted] "  ... mental structures 
an...
effect of their movement away from the seaside
	  and grown pernicious scales on their 
			 "
 
constriction
		    relaxation
					constriction
 
   removal    
       past
time               octupoid thinking    as if tentacles were 
	  ses
 

     thud thud thud
 

never comin' back no more
 

-
			      the gap grows larger
 

so ____ built
	       that construct
			       last (to)
 

		   emissions of instruments long fore     
gotten
 

	  "Hasn't been an instrument built that can hold 
me."
 

vacillation
 

at an edge -- here lattice grows: edges or fringes
	  upon resting thoughts lies
 

			 blown
			 throu
			 rubbr

					downing saran wrap 
like jello
 

`     ``````      .      ;lk;lwjaHAHAGHHHHq
 

			 blown
			 intou
			 sands


borders living in the lines


		      hang    or     only
     find     any      bodies     ony the lattice
	    we move 
 

		picked up the phone
 

					     STATIC BUZZ
 

		 MESSAGE ONE:
 

and then the lines move(d), the edges came closer and an 
opening ! <------@ !
 

well of course why not?

				if there were a message?

	   dial tone

static

	     the opening was not a cave 
	  but the horn
			  of a tuba
 

vibbbbbrating
 

learned to inscribe,
	   in encoded
 
					     filled on noise

     
	  crypt - ography :     finding the instrument's body
 

			 blown
			 aroun
			 words
 

	       baa bbbaaa baa bbaaa
 

maybe to walk to another place to
 

crying out noiselessly

			     
		    only as                as horns can 
there be openings          
 

			      doors and windows emitting jazz
 

hyperinterference
 

what else but air pushed and helmeted
 

surfacing only to choke
 

gored
 

  PLACE          -          see nomos and polis
     
	       FORUM     -- openings in vowels the eye of 
				   the bone monkey
 

and the child spoke:                   
TEXTopenFIELDprojection
 

		    and the snake replied:

notathought in my head 
everything identityless and intransitive.

============================================================================

Purkinge
--------

                              seaworthy yes,    

						    along the 

river bed it flows like burning gasoline

 



          

                       

but the wind

                

 



      





                     

 

  

               FALLING 





      jason ate the goat fur

             

 



     war is beautiful   





                                   wires & circuits 





                                       eye 





                                simple shapes 





          shadow meaning 




     make a coat and lie in it 





           at 55 mph 





                 excitable angles 





                                   drywall lung 





                      bones rose quivering in the shape of a 







                                         deflection

      



              incessant         exteriorismo 





          RIVET 





      cross section of  human

                                     tissue

 





     old synthesizer 





               bacteria  eat           their way to the light

 



        distracting from the yolk 





                              mark & tell 





                     





         juicey 





                     whisk mapping 





                                   can't take 





                     





          in actu 





         depletion 





                                             meant 





          he peeled back his scalp and found a  guava 





                 Five trillion cells leaking 





                         collarbone 





          on old shoes 





                for forgiveness 





               felt like a       





                          passage of worry 





                    CO COC  a dop pop  





                              ballistic heart case 





                         

   

 





                  shoelace baiting  





                 





          pralines                          





   windows furnishings of light 





 and have their portraits done 




                                   in blue swirls 





                              in molasses 





                    coral up  





      coupled without eyes or voice 





          cowboy's mouth harp 





          popsicle dawning 






                  disengaged from 





                              fort knox, baby 





                          quick   





                                   stroking the rock 

emerged a teddy bear of jello

 





     plastic dispensers 





                 spoons of doom 





                                        crying mercury 





seduction 



               and he coughed      the morning's paper

                      print and   many pictures

 





          it's this necklace 





                             fabric why 





      pin-striped 





          born day 





           





                                beading a career 





                    why it curls 





                              bright lights the meaning of  





     cactus 





       since the futurists 





               rhinestone   coffee

 





               prickly prickly 





               a residue o0f   communal      meals      under

 





          the rinkydink 





   #1  Once        #2 only  once 





     unleashed a field of bees 





                              umbrella 





                                             spins      sheds light

 





          collapsing lake 





               DISTORTIONS 





                                   melty  



                                           and

                                              magnetism

 





     don't jump 





                 





               all dogs      

     all      boxes     are      

                

logic





                    a great     tooth     in his arm 





    apologized

 





          the     thermos of love 





          assignment of sound 





                          "Crushed on the first attempt, the 

 





                                   going forward, back 




        the small         of baseball 





    

                      unopened

 





              circulation   





                              we do ...  





            worried   (still) 





                    insulation, thick and pink, the only 

answer."






          wheezing saxophone 





                 rattling pain flakes 





        

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