57 GAZILLION LUNG-TONGUE VARIETIES

                              for Bob Carroll

 

 

Hey, US!

Get up!

Stand up!

Pay up

The Bill of Writes!

 

Hey, Poets!

Time to fill up

Swirling Void Hole

At empty center

Of National Consciousness Doughnut!

 

Our Whole's got a hole in it!

From which the Soul of the Nation is leaking -- 

 

Hey, US!

It's time to Re-soul!

 

Poets of the World, re-write!

Rewrite History as

     57 Gazillion

          Lung-Tongue

               Varieties

 

Crack the dazed,

     The bored

          The goofed-off with

 

The Dazzling,

     The boring as in "Laser-zapping,"

Collaborative, co-conspiritorial

Chchch turn the beat around

And stick to it, Love Magnet!

 

I will now read you your 1st Amendment Writes, to wit:

 

          "This imminently transferrable,

          Readily assumable Poetic License

          Is yours immediately free-for-all,

          But --

          You gotta speak it up to keep it up!

          You have the right to noisy!"

 

(Uh, I don't uh really unnerstand. What is it, exactly?)

 

          "Tag, you are it!"

 

Japan's annual Tree Poem celebration of

Everybody writes Tree Poems.

Tree Poem seeds, planted in brains,

Are nurtured through arborious fertilizing rituals.

Citizens read "Trees in Poems' Breeze,"

Chchch returning leaves to trees they sprang from.

 

In US,

We sing rock'n'opera in the shower.

Who's all wet?

 

This just in: News Bullet-in,

Name of country chchchchanges

To United States of Poetry!

Creates CD Rom instaccess to Who We Are!

Physicallizes First Amendment Rites!

Guarantees Po-for-All! 57 Gazillion Varieties

Of newly-free voices raised as one

From top shelves of Dust Museums!

 

Poets of the US, Rewrite!

You have nothing to lose but your place in line

At the Unified Lifetime Checkout Counter

Located inside the end zone of the CIA/FBI Zombie Mall --

Which do you pick? Quick!

Pick your brains!

 

And when the poetry reading is over

We sit round the campfire, Australopithecus's Television,

And have an Open Mic,

Where we open up Mike and she says,

Not in the shower but to showering stars,

 

          Molecules free

          To be you and me

 

And when we run out of poems

The conclusive Emily XYZ

Borrows a twenty-dollar bill and reads it,

Turning and turning the bill in the widening gyre,

Decoding the glyphs of the new single:

 

          Twenty=single (1993)

          E Pluribus Unum=definition of a Po-um

          Legal tender=ain't that oxymoronish?

   

And then kiss that bill godbye,

Send off to revitalize the economy,

A salmon arush to spawn

Poetry now informing the entire Economy!

 

 

 

 

The bill folds in on itself

Like the back page of Mad magazine

Revealing whole new poem ("New Hole Poem"?),

Can never be

Bought or sold,

Thingless Thing,

Hole poem, as in Poker,

Should not mean

But be

 

So don't be depressed about the state of the world.

Instead be absolutely mournfully depressed! Go ahead,

Be despondent even

Be sad. Being sad is accurate

View of the well of the world

From behind the webbed veil

Of your veiny eyelids.

Gut-wrenching sadness,

Never-to-return-to-any-other-emotion

Sad for insoluble problems be sad

As AIDS cure vomits out of poem, right

As hideous universal inequities are solved by a song, sure

 

Let's all get out of the shower

And sing harmonies and hold hands

 

Maybe we should put our clothes on first?

Maybe we should strip our skins off first!

 

You shake lion roars:

Grace Utopia Vision Governs Action,

Causes Restructuring

Of Table of Elements, now called Elements of Table 

 

As we all sit down

But who are we? we laugh

Ho ho ha, we are the New Poets, laughing at ourselves

The very same heroes we've been searching for

We are found in our own backyards,

Right where Dorothy said we'd be

In our own blank, passive potato-faces,

The perfect slate on which to scratch this poem 

 

Pierre Revery Interruptus

This just in:

Newsflash Ballot-in

Census Department has decreed

Detailed census of each individual must needs be undertaken

Whitman's huge, he contains multitudes?

Let's count'em!

Millions of tiny voices freed

Quickly losing track of exact number

Starting over while meanwhile

On to next simile synthesis, here tis:

 

          The only contradiction is,

          There are no contradictions!

 

As the emergency emerges

Sweet song of poetry

Demands to be heard

Petals on a wet black bough

Singing 57

     Gazillion

          Lung-Tongue

               Varieties

                    America,

 

A single bird 

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

A CONUNDRUM FOR THE MILLENNIUM, or

  CHANGES IN A CLASS'S ECONOMIC FUNCTION

  EVENTUALLY TRANSFORM ITS VALUES AND BEHAVIOR

              for Bill Stephney

 

 

Risky nonbusiness businessify the no mon', Hon

Attitude? We got it, and poems on the half-shell wholesale

Coulda been a drawer locked with a tiny silver key with a

     purp velv rib attached

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

A POEM FOR NEAL CASSADY, CALLED SIMPLY,

 

 

Neal Cassady,
Thinking He Is Hanging From His Fingertips Over the Great Abyss,
Is In Fact Slipping Slowly Into the Smokestack of a Giant Steam Locomotive

  

I no fear

What am I doing here

Jest a glance in the chance dance

Of the mirrored rearword

Fresh burnt freak free to see

Jaybirds runnin naked outta the burbs

Shoutin how's life's a blurb for itself!

Verb don't be, man, 's'a cat

Catapult o' nine tales

Flailin sails on the rat re-rated nation eviscerated

Nickel n dime free view preview

Meet my Dad's Shinycheese, my Mom's Arabars

My grandparents came from Venus MalloMars

My brothers and sisters alive inside my blisters

And I keep track of the stars, that's my job

To keep track of the dovetails,

      the exhausted pipes,

            and the stars

 

Don't eat meat, don't swallow greens

All's I eat is air'n'hair'n'beans

Keep myself rolling steam in a dreamroller

Steamroller rolling a dream flat'n

Wilco the echo, Fernononononono

Good season two good reason to believe'n

Look to your left to see right through

This skinna mine sure wants skin offa you

 

Did the impolite o'liticalical imp slip the spine slime?

Fracture jaw gewgaw dunky can o' hide?

See it breathe it leave it sneeze it freeze it

60 miles a second to get laid in LA

Juice caboose laying life tracks for home

Come livvylivvylive at springtime's bone

 

Wake me when I'm dead

 

Shoulda fucked my own mind instead

Why bother why not

Why bother why not

Why bother why not

 

 

Just a prairie dog and a full dictionary

Discretely dishing the head vitamins vision

Type hype for a finish sans blemish

Or leave the spittle in the middle - open your openings

The man in the moon I prune

The enjine whines and the tall pines pine

For all's I love's a dove above

'n a particular fuse o'you

Ivy grows over me own tomb's tone

Firmly entrenched

Right here on this bench

I'm Quetzalcoatl, I'm Welch, lynched

Shook a tale farther, Quetzaltototl

I'm not, I'm a knot o' snot

And I'm fallin, I'm fallin

I'm fallin fallin fallin

What's next on the way

On the way?

Andale!

We're on delay?

We're on hold

I ain't on hold

I'll hold the cold

I'll tell the told, freak the fold, bend the bold

But I'll be rolled if I'll hold on hold

 

No second thoughts thanks

The first one's overdone

With a wait a second! second

As another one's begun

 

It's just your mind's startin to dovetail

And the exhasted pipe's on the third rail

Sloogging through the swampy swampy night

Frozen on a cruisin loosin sight

Goin blind in a minute for a dollar bill pill

Down on the ground poundin reality till

The whole picture frameup slaps the fine on fine

I'm having a nice day thank you suiciding the line

Up the damn down into the sound of the sound

Where death lights the match to catch a snatch o'

What the blurred word inferred implied

On the high time tide

Instant reincarnation - tongue to ear resuscitation

The rattlin battlin of mouth ear, Mouthear

Come near come near come near

Come here come here come here

Come hear my fear

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

AMAZING GRACE VERSES FOR ED SANDERS

 

 

As dawn blows up this endless night

And breath carves out a kiss

A moment still, upon the hill

A song of sweet clear bliss

 

The car won't start.  It's ten below.

Exhausted pipe won't play.

The frost upon the bumperguard

Gives vent to curse, to pray

 

When I was young, the days were long

Now they move choppy quick

I've got so many things to do

Death please play your trick

 

Beyond the wall I let a sneeze

Desert my sinus clear

I lost my life's remote control

But not my handkerchief

 

I toss the lure into the stream

And watch the fishies cruise

But biting's not to be their thing

They draw stars to see who'll lose

 

Now Zappa's gone, how deep the night

His music plucked me through

Hum a few bars, explode a few cigars

Play softly the Grand Wazoo

 

 

The Zap of Love I still recall

It's what makes me to burn

And so I send this zap to you

To find sweet love's Return

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

AND THE GODS ONLY KNOW WHO ELSE WILL BUM-RUSH!

 

 

Blue silk dress and a beeper on

Can the can real the real tween tween us

Provoke lucky kickback tweak

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

ASCENDING ELECTRICITY

 

 

Green flash circle eee it's HAPPY FACE?!

Hand-in-claw we together up the non-ladder:
Call it Beanstalk. A halo wind lifts

Up the muck of life, leaves everybody

Far behind. Brand-new brands on all

The shelves of chaos, shall we care?

Many opportunities blown, flapping memories

Blocking views of the past. Huh? Did we forget

Anything? No, everything. A green flash

At the edge of this photo, presaging

The crinkled hand around the Tower, the Fool,

The Blind World. As for our vantage, Olympus!

While below, our children stoke the dynamo.

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

AW, FUCK BREATH!

 

 

Breathe and swell mighty

Lines that equate equator

Truncate the spasm, swallow

The finger figures' seals view later

Whereas wit were welcomed merrily

Narrowly harrowing experience, to retrench

The Seat Cover of Immortality and yet

The poem becomes the fervid mensch

 

Go where you wanna do see be

For example, pick a card -- no

Example but the thang, no sign

But the symbol for the sign below

 

Where your handkerchief blotter mocks

The sneeze -- little dabs of goo

Are these meaning?  Lift your horizon

And paint new trunks on the body's brew

 

Art lies in the questions it poses

Please pass me the cigar ash

Used to be my body

Now it's my poem

You can't read

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

BEAUTY AND QUOTAS

 

 

Somewhere, somehow, sometime

Probably oh right about now

Someone somewho somewha is writing down

Something in English about either slime

Or here is my heart, take eat

 

Is this what poetry is about Barbeque?

You go to college, you write slime poem?

I wonder this Night of Knights

Whether the boldest blue sky can quilt your warmth

Sling a sling around the broken fragment knob

Erstwhile nozzle, wherein speak the spoke

Real spokey ones, limp around the tattered garbosack

Trade bandaids? Marvelous idea

 

Somehow sometime somewhere

A tenacious city

Burps dawn

 

 

Falling deeper into the shitpile

Life picks up

It's ok

Again

Poetry pitchers line the shoals

Hit the target with a new target

Floundering? Try helping out out

Blisters make a nice gift

Fructose is a sugar, too, Hun

Nice New Data: Amigo Dating Batgirl

Desire as quaalude to a john

The garbage pails of plenty

Release the deep song

 

Agitating for Existence

Watching residuals, that's fair

All day matinee?

Pierced clocks grind my only dream

A can factory in New Jersey

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

BLOWNIT

 

 

Now you've gone and blownit

On top of everything else

The hammer, the pudding,

The ffffff phone call

Now you've really done it

You've gone and blownit

And this is just to say

Thank you  Thank you

Very much

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

CROW'S BIG AS A BOG

 

 

Deer larks like a log

Who cuts the grass in the forest

Who built the lodge I found the remains

Many moons ago, I did

I ripped the phone out of the plane tree

It was loud and insistent but could not

Awake the owl

Who sleeps beside me sometimes

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

ENCASED IN A DREAM OF AN OPEN BOOK

 

 

Rigor, took such rigorous

Think and plot and smell of fresh

Paint thick imapasto -- is that my crust

Of eye dissolving into my very death?

No matter -- the tiny boat shall carry
My body (or is that the dream of it?)

Out the grave -- continue reading book --

Door, tomb, tank in the desert.

 

Fire! Friend or foe? Now we know.

Sword (pen) at the ready (red).

Please listen to the victims' gasping.

The placid lake keeps the soul floating.

This "body of work" keeps no distance.

Reflecting breath is the last breath.

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

GRAVE BOYS

 

 

never made it to my fafa

ice heaves kentucky blown hands bite

wind vivid through the hollers

 

my brother drives the line

time outside the car

porcupine in a cage by Big Booger Mountain

 

so much thought a file on it

try to draw closer the reader

my other brother, our half-

 

mother shacked up with her boyfriend

a trailer at the end of the road to Florida

time is timing outside the car and counting

 

lines get longer

we get older

smart partners part

 

sis half-sis-

ter up in Rome, Indiana

religious cult

 

or new age family organic

the man who raised us organic

on the farm a haven for rocks

 

death behind the fence

or death the fence itself

to lie on the grass forever under over

 

black-eye widows under the rocks

love under the black windows

the house love forgot

 

waiting for the school bus

plenty of time Ohio River

birthday tomorrow I'll be 45

 

in his horseshoer hands

in his guitar hands

in his steering wheel hands

 

his antique evaluating hands

his lover hands

his daddy's hands

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

HOW TO WAKE UP

 

 

1. Go to sleep

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

LET'S GET BUTT NAKED AND WRITE POETRY

 

 

Gonna tattoo the new to a hot spot

Walk round the sound with a sexy sax -- Bought

Ya dreams, soundtrack screams of pleasure

Varieties of touch -- a spider's tiny treasure

 

Sunday afternoon, empty construction zone, a pre-perfect site

To get butt naked and write the tight

Phat poems that blossom into orbit view

The totale body mesh held by a gold screw

 

Panoptically watch the goings-on universally

Down below we spy our bodies humping poetry

We're observing love from above

The sweet treat beat

Passionate action friction

Fraction in traction

Watching our bodies grow older never colder -- Bolder

In their searching for the depths of each other

Mother father sister brother

The souls of our souls dancing in the ethereal

100% natural material

We're hot rockin the tomb, man

Reinventin' man and wo-man

 

So entwined are we, doubledutching free

Anti-cute in a schoolyard whose verses

Curses and reverses the nurses

Confessional sign please

To the doctor's obsessional re-re-release

Fingers playing harmonies' delights

Body parts arts signifying hearts

Merciless mercies just lips kissin free

Gettin butt naked writing poetry

 

Lean into a concern that'll burn the churn

As the quizzical physical goes astrophysical

With logical magical milestones round yr neck

Neck neck neckin just to hold your head on

No passive observers -- just better be gone

We're the same song no one to hear it, come near it

Don't fear it you're in it begin it what's more it

Is just it just when you least expect it

Your being reflects it

Pile on the sweet and tender

Bodies in a blender

Writing poems with skin to the end

Reach the rush   Preach the push

The creative construct comfort input

Anti-compartmentalized as we rise into unity beauty

 

Till we're all that's left, just each other

One to the other, Sister Brother Lover

"Getting to know you

Getting to know all about you"

 

Yo

Yo

Yoyo

Yoyo

Love escapes from us

To cover us

Poems us

Surrounded by the sound

Of the meaning of meaning

Dressed up in love so fine

Any meaning mo' yr mine

Stylin, all the while smilin

Walking round the party

In each other's body...

 

And she said:

 

          Boney maroney ain't no phony

          Tiny hurts blurt the true view

          Vision's revision

          Understand the woman/man difference

          Ain't who wears the pants

          What's growin in me

          Is us and is growin

          In you that's your new tattoo

          In our bed in your head to live life for

          Cry from these kiss these lips to strive for

          Doncha woncha know

          Everybody needs a wife

          Together we'll be the mother

          Not insane, humane --

          Father too

          Me and you

          Delirious serious

          Love grows and grows

          So you must know it

          Grow through, intuit

          Livin through it

          Answer the riddle in the middle:

 

Let's get butt naked and write poetry

And write some poetry

Poetry

Uh huh

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

"LIFT BLISS FROM THE PISS-STAINED KNOCKOUT BLOT"

 

 

Hey, Human Fly! Got a good view yet?

Climb the wall over and over

Good ol' Sisyphus's rock repeat

Good ol' Sisyphus's rock

               Over and over and

                    Over and out and

                         Over and above and

All over love

 

In the garden, the jungle, the alley

There we part

Chain from link, lock the key

Collaborating the ssssame thing exact moment!

 

The Dance, danced! Goodby said, "Goodby!"

We waved and weaved a trembling shadow

A slip of a tongue, thin tremolo

Disguise, AIDS circling behind all this

!1993

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

MAX

 

 

On a planet of spinning blue

On an island named after the hat of a man

I sit in an old school with my hat on

To shield me from the rays of the sun

I hold up my hand to make the wind move

 

I hold up my hand to reach the clock

To speed the minutes into hours

How slow the trip of tear from eye to desk

While the answer I hold ready

To unfurl like a flag from my fist

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

NEWLY REVIVED FROM MUMMY-STATE, SATURNIANS WILL NOW PARTY FOR ETERNITY

     For the Ra of Sun (0-00)
and Herman Blount (1904-1993)

 

 

Sound spritz tweaks Thru-Space

          News blitz leaves a you

 

True Beyond

 

               I'm gonna sit right down and stand right back up

          and write myself a symphony

Sliding a backwards S train whistle

 

                                   We are not born again

                                   We never got born

All we be is be

 

Sun lost

          in the Sun

          becomes the Sun

 

This is not this but WATCH IT as IT becomes THAT

 

                              Shriek is blat squish pero rass the blastoff

   That old manuscript of yours that sat on that same spot on the same shelf where you left it so long long ago?

        Now's the time it picks to tumble a waterfall to the arkestra stand sit and dance around

We wit whip the turbanned trombone dirge

King Squawk of the Evidence Invisible

 

The jury

The jury may

The jury may still

The jury may still be

The jury may still be out

                           But you are always in

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

NEXT!

          after Steve Cannon,

          for Butch Morris

 

 

UNO

 

And that's the way it is tonight,

The eleventh of February, ninteen hundred and ninety-three

Lights shake, thunder quakes

Silence rains

The set is set

They were here

 

Where were they?

They were not here

They went away

They had to stay

Cannot say

Hooray

Fuck you

"Frankly my dear frankly you do not exist"

 

The door is sweeping the dustballs ahead of it

For this door

This tiny door which had stood ajar in the jam for a tiny second

The window is closing on that view of that tiny eternity as That window is that door

That door which is closing

Sweeping ahead of it all the dustbunnies that were the World

 

Which world

Not you again

Not me again

Not me again

Me

Again?

Again

Again again

Not again

Begin

Begin again

Again

 

That's what Hesaid said

Shesaid said Hesaid said

Frankly my dear it is frankly all in the book

 

What is in the book

The music that played the song in my head

The tune I can recall

The words I have forgot

That was the book

You could hear when you closed

Like a door

 

Next

What could we call it

Call it a book

What was the title

"C Span"

"Span C"

Which was it

I muse

It must be one

Must not be the other

But there they are

There who are

The ones on the dolly

Or the ones on the crane

The ones on the inside of the door

Waiting for the appointment/trying to get out

Or the ones on the outside of the door

Listening at the keyhole/turning away in fear

 

And what of the key

In the key of what

And what of those who say what of

And what of those who say of what

And what of Whatof ofwhaT

 

The bird that laid no egg was C Span

The bottle that had no glass was Span C

The chair that could run and did was CNN

The human with a loose noose loose noose on was Z100

The lachrymose larcenist was LIB

"Frankly my dear I'll think about it tomorrow"

Was what Hesaid said Shesaid said to Hesaid,

She said

And that's the way it is tonight,

The eleventh of February, ninteen hundred and ninety-three

 

DOS

 

Where were you when she was there?

Were you there when he was here?

You've got such a lovely face.

This is such a lonely place.

Do you like my legs?

What about my dress?

Your shirt, your tie?

My apartment?

The bedroom?

The kitchen?

The bathroom?

Hers is his and his is hers.

 

Hers is his and his is hers.

 

Hers is his and his is hers.

The bathroom?

The kitchen?

My apartment?

Your shirt, your tie?

What about my dress?

Do you like my legs?

This is such a lonely place.

You have such a lovely face.

Were you there when he was here?

Where were you when she was there?

 

Were you you when we were there?

Were you you when we were there?

Were you you when we were there?

Were you you when we were there?

Hers is his and his is hers.

 

TRES

 

                

 

CBS

BBC

CBC

HBO

CEO

DDT

 

NET

ABC

NBC

What U C

What U Say

What U Know

TNT

MTV

Span C

 

Z100

Route 66

77 Sunset Strip

76 Trombones

12 Steps in the Wrong Direction

 

Watch out

The shout

It all adds up

To what?

Too what

Too many who

Too many who what

Too many who know

Don't know any

To many the way

Is only one way

Does not compute

Crashing drives

Crashing lives

Push of a button

Through the buttonhole fold

The Black Hole Warp

Rap Time Rap

 

LIB

SCC

NFL

ABA

NBA

MTV

 

 

                    [NEXT 2]

 

 

IRT

TNT

ABC

SEC

FBI

CIA

KGB

 

ANZA

PANZA

NATO

UNESCO

USSR

Where do they be

Spell you'n'me

DOG

 

Blackout

LIB

 

 

QUATRO

 

Big ol house big as the world bigger

Big ol door

Bigger'n the house even bigger even

Standing in the doorway

Big ol human forms

Known respectively-but-with-no-respect-due-to-the-circumstances

As Hesaid Shesaid

 

Lights up

CNN enters on a dolly on a crane

The frame is the sky and a stick and a staff

Eat a can of future

World beat world eat world heat the man

The woman she cry

All you hear is silence

There she is

Now she's gone

She isn't there

There she is

Shesaid

 

Who said? Hesaid

We dead dear

Who he?

He who

He she fear

 

Quit talking like that

Like what?

Like that

Quit talking

Like that?

Like that

Like all you hear

The rush of silence

 

Lights fade

Enter CNN

Through the big ol door

Shoving out the jam

Blowing up the house

Like a dimestore balloon

Enveloping the world

In the news of itself

Gorging beauty transmission

Big ol Bleak World

 

Through the silence of the page

A solitary bleep

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

NIGHT FEARS

 

 

Everyone is in love

Except you

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

NO LONGER KILLING MOSQUITOS

 

 

Once, a million years ago, on LSD

I was sitting underneath a "you" tree

On top of a mountain overlooking a lake

 

The whole gang was tripping and we

Were doing the exploring nature thing --

I was writing how the "they" become

An "us" under the yew

                     And as I was

Working on the poem, I could feel

The "Hurry up! Where's Bob?" vibe

Of Group Consensus closing in on

Me, as I to Us by Them

was being called to join in

Crashing down the mountain

To those Other Rituals Like:

    Metaphysical Pool

    Make movie sans camera of First Man Arising From Lake Depths

and the Ultimate:

    Get in a Car and Go

For a drive and see if you can figure out which of the kaleidescoping roads is "real"

But first: the Poem Must End

For as the group noose circled me in,

A mosquito landed on my left arm (I am writing

right-handed, now as then) and as I observed

My own blood entering the probiscus protuberance

The human buzz became so intense

I slapped that mosquito flat into the page

Splattered blood, the final period

As they became us

Part 2 -- Today heavenly, above Lake Canandaigua,

Twenty-two years later, far from madding, no drugs, I sit

In a spot of nature and write this poem.

Sit on a downed lodgepole pine, some calcified droppings

By my feet -- bear's? or human's? From some moss I carefully

Extract, using my pen, the carcass of a Daddy Longlegs

And watch as an ant carries it off. A caterpillar

Wriggles over my pants, and again with pen

I lift it off and transport it, dangling,

To new oak leaf. At home, 337 West 12th Street,

10014, my daughters are just getting back from school.

Elizabeth and I have been married 11 years.

I am writer-in-residence here at Gell House,

Finger Lakes. I am perched out behind

The hidden cabin, just above the tombstone

Of the Gells. When mosquitos land,

I wave them gently on their way.

 

 

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more 1993 poems