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Activist Times Inc. Issue 233
"Remember to leave only footprints, watch each and
every card you play and let there be songs to fill
the air. Have a great summer. See you somewhere out
there..."
--Toni Brown.
,
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< \, =||= \\
/-|| || || July Fifteenish!
(( || || || 0's just flyin!
\/\\ \\, \\
issue233 Fullmoon comin'
R U Ready 4 It?
Watch Out 4 Running #'s
http://ojr.usc.edu
http://flag.blackened.net/ati/adam.jpg
http://www.shutterbug.org
http://www.thethe.com/message.html
http://catalog.com/mrm/zappa/html/testimony.html
http://www.thecapitaltimes.com/news_gore_071400.htm
http://flag.blackened.net/ati/webzine2.html
http://24.161.10.197/FOTFA/foyf.htm
http://www.halcyon.com/robinja/mythos/SteveJones.html
http://stations.mp3s.com/stations/52/stoneground_words_melanie_.html
http://tii-kokopellispirit.org/Magazine
http://www.mihra.org/2k/politics.htm
http://www.alicedimicele.com
http://www.angelfire.com/nd/paulran
http://SpaceyIdeas.Com/cheshire/access.html
http://www.geocities.com/nsavan/links1.html
http://www.textfiles.com/anarchy/1-2
http://www.artsandmedia.net/sfexpo
http://www.stopwto.org
Quahogs with black beans and onions.
Mmm. Mmm, mmm. Seafood to dive for.
I'm prime anarchist and this is my rant for
the full moon weekend of mid july '00.
Brace yourself for A LOOK BEHIND THE
CURTAIN: Flashing Back to Sunday.
Political man takes over park talking a mean line. Precise
carefully constructed median words - so as not to divide.
Do the prezwanabes still have to go to Harvard to be taught
hand movement, eyebrow control and diction or will they come
to Harleywood and potty train 'em?
Sunday before the Green Bay Algore. SS man erects antenae
atop roof, preppin' 4 th3 prez. Fliers passed out by young
redeblicrats, rumor control (or out of cont?) spinning. People
wander and stroll hoping to see the OTHER prezwanabe. Oh? It'll
be Thursday? Oh.
Read on, somewhere in this mess I put something about Al Gore
standing on a flatbed truck greeting about a thousand people
trying his bedamnablest to sound exactly like FDR on acid.
Word kudos go out to the Aug2000 crew of George Magazine for
coming up with the phrase "Schmoozapalooza 2000" for upcoming
conventions.
=prime=
oh, ps: this zine dedicated:
abe ribicoff
may there be no "gestapo tactics
in the streets of L.A. or Philly.
LETTUCE
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> Gentlemen:
> Last week the monitor ran a comprhensive article on the rise of private
> armies. The largest U.S. group had a boast that it's personnel did not carry
> weapons. The implication is that Americans would not be hired as mercenary
> combatants in the near future. This is misleading. A hypothetical example
> would be that retired military people could run a supply corps, leaving the
> actual fighting to indigenous guerillas who are fed regularly and have smart
> uniforms as well as modern weapons. Readers like myself are always a bit
> credulous to note that television footage of armed conflict always show
> modern camouflage uniforms, and plenty of automatic weapons. The fighting is
> often large in scope. Chechnya is an example. A good question is: who is
> paying for the slaughter? My guess is that the secret CIA budget is coming
> back to haunt us. It is a nice scheme. No Americans die and any resulting
> evil is hidden or ignored by a media which always "goes along".
> An armed force which is not controlled by constutional means is a threat
> to the Republic. Again, suppose that an existing government is performing an
> essential but unpopular task and is challenged. It is not beyond
> comprehension to imagine that opposition in the form of force could be aided
> and abetted by private armies.
> The conclusion is that armed force, directed privately or secretly has no
> place in America.
> Sincerely,
> Merritt L. Ball (860)
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to ati@etext.org
Your zine rawks
It's like food for thought.
Keep it up.
Josie (602)
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Hi
Can you please tell me who your
Chief Investment Manager is.
Also can you also send me his
or her email address.
Regards,
J Ray
[ed note: um, no.]
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to: ati@etext.org
nice job on the daunting web site.
lots of text.
made me smile.
i used to get fan mail.
wrote for buddyhead.com, will write for gear someday.
now i just stay up late.
http://www.buddyhead.com/other/tidbits
it's still there, if you get bored.
tah tah.
why is there no gear website?
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to marco:
I tried all yesterday afternoon to write a poem about
how hot it is here, but it was too hot. From noon to
four, the sidewalks are deserted, the town's nearly
empty of students and most living gets shifted to night
time, which has a definite effect on behavior here. Just
blame the heat for everything else I tell you this summer.
Last night, Gibson pretty clearly defined the limits of
our relationship. His band played, and they were great,
but not as great as I remembered, and after the show he
stood talking to a tassel of college-aged girls for
twenty minutes, and I finally went up to the edge of
the group, and he ignored me, or tried to until I
told him I was leaving, and he smiled like a little
boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and said,
"Thanks for coming." Then I went over to Henry's and
flirted with anything that moved until I felt better.
I'm not going to stop seeing Gibson, there's no point
in breaking up if we're not even committed, but it's a
relief to know I'm not going to fall in love with him.
Ian sounds just miserable, please write him, because
I can't handle all of his issues. I'm trying to have
fun down here.
So long,
Kristy
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the woody guthrie free folk festival will
be held in okemah, oklahoma wed 13- sat 16 of
july..... arlo guthrie will be there aong w/
lots of other folk artist, camping is free...
.....much love,
okiecrew
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[ed note: that one's almost too late, here's another...]
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Hi Marco,
Has it been 3 years already? Yup - Time for another
"Hackers On Planet Earth" conference. HOPE 2000, or H2K
will be held July 14-16 at the Hotel Pennsylvania in
New York City http://www.h2k.net. It's put on by 2600
Magazine, "The Hacker's Quarterly", so if it's a slow news
day, the networks will send out their video crews to show
those "Big Bad Hacker Dudes" doing nasty deeds over their
T-1 connection, with film at 11.
If you can't make it for my talk on "Low Bandwidth Access
To The Internet", it can be found at
http://SpaceyIdeas.Com/cheshire/access.html
Looking forward to seeing you again.
Keep Smiling,
Cheshire )
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Live from Opsail 2000.
On Location, with Sisyphus.
It is now two days before the event. There were these State-owned
highway signs all along I-95 flashing "OPSAIL 2000" & "JULY 12" clean
on in from inbetween the Pawcatuck/N.Stonington entrance and the
Stonington Borough exit. And more often as the exits got closer
together. I remember some kids from New Britain found a way to hack
into those signs and wrote something brilliant like "FUCK!" & "GOV.
ROWLAND" on them. Great stuff.
There's a lot of people milling around these days. Lots more people
of the streets. Workmen, too. Saw some guys building some sort of
"Arch" across Pearl St. You can see the harbor direct from there.
They had a fancy dome sitting on a flarbed waiting for the frame to be
built. Real glitzy and flashy. But hey, it's like something you'd
see on top of a Gazebo or a garage. Except this one has a gilt roof.
Mention of the OPSAIL 2000 event has begun to appear on local TV as
of a week ago. It was mentioned in the Hartford and Waterbury papers
last night. Yup, they're pushing hard. Decent promo work. Wish I
had his TV connections.
This is Monday, July 10 coming to you live from New LONdon!
And it's hotnmuggy & I gotta take a shawr.
pseudonym for a poem
by e.e. droppings
a man, a mouse and a moose walk into a bar.
Bartender says "Sorry, I don't serve moose."
Man says, "That's fine. "I'm not here to eat,
I'm here to socialize."
Mouse says, "you'd look funny with a
tennis racket stickin' outa your ass."
Moose says, "Once it was dinosaurs,
"Now it's humans,
"Just wait. Next is moose.
"You WILL serve me,"
[smiles] [pees] [leaves]
PRIME ANARCHIST WORLD NEWS
6-INCH MOTH SHUTS DOWN ACCOUNTING FIRM
Typed in from AP unedited by Prime Anarchist Productions.
SHEBOYGAN - Wisc., - A mammoth moth, not just sunny
weather, kept employees of a local accounting firm outside
their offices much of the day Thursday.
Workers arriving at the firm of VanDeKreeke & Sorenson SC
at 8am spotted the moth, with a wingspan of nearly 6 inches,
hanging on the side of the building.
When receptionist Dawn Hemschemeyer arrived, she found
employees gathered looking at the oversized insect. Soon some
were dashing inside to do research on the Internet to identify
the creature.
"We would look at some pictures on the Internet and then come
out and compare them to the moth," Hemschemeyer said.
It eventually was identified as a cecropia moth, the largest
silkmoth of North America, and one with a relatively short
lifespan. Adults have no mouth parts, but live only a matter
of days during which they must mate before they die.
Though not rare in Wisconsin and the Midwest, they are not
often seen during the day because of their nocturnal habits.
Hemschemeyer said the moth remained on the same side of the
building in about the same position until about 2 p.m. when it
moved to the back of the building.
Employees didn't seem to mind that the moth kept their
attention for so long, Hemschemeyer said.
"It's an accounting office," she quipped. "Nothing happens
here."
SETTING SOME THINGS STRAIGHT
urgent call for support from Big Mountain, Az.
The following letter is written for/with Louise Benally,
by antoinette claypoole.
Sent from Big Mountain
Human rights and environmental havoc have been slain as the federal
government continues to fuel progressives on the Hopi Tribal Council with
food which feeds their greed. Beneath the vast and humble land of Big
Mountain, near the four corners region of the "united states" a reserve of
black gold and life defying uranium are folded into the flesh of Mother.
Here the long and continued resistance to relocation by traditional Dine
is heated up, smoldering in the heart of dedicated elder, original
organizer, and well respected aborignal leader of the Sovereign Dine
Nation, Kee Shay.
In order to feed the greed beast and seize land for excavation, rape,
the Hopi Tribal Council in the name of progress continues its acts of
harassment toward long time residents of Big Mountain, this time attacking
Kee Shay by demanding he attend exclusionary hearings in Hopi Tribal
Council chambers. This in order to force Kee Shay from living on his land
of birth, hearings and court dates set to "exclude" him from access to the
place he lives. May 22 was the first appearance date demanded of Kee
Shay, 84 years old and failing in health, with another appearance date
coming up on July 20th.
For some who follow Big Mountain issues this may not seem anything new,
and for those first reading of Big Mountain the issue may seem small as
juniper in no moon darkness. But this is not so. the harassment of Kee
Shay is the first effort by Hopi Tribal Council to exclude Dine from Big
Mountain who progressive Hopi say are "not part of the 75 year
accomodation aggreement" and in this way are enumerated as being exluded
from access to living/being present in Big Mountain. The case of Kee Shay
will set a precedent for progressive Hopi to continue their flagrant abuse
of Dine elders/resistors by issuing court orders to all who did not sign
an agreement to leave the land.
The issues are complex. As thunderheads over Sundance in mid july the
sky cries. Here. In the washes we make camp and pray for another way.
There are demons in our midst. People who take the donations of well
meaning lists of supporters from around the world. People who hire
attornies, solicit legal aid and raid the hearts of the reistors in
big mountain. Attempting massacre of a dream of unity and living in a
traditional way these so called organizers for big mountain are
scimming funds and well intention efforts from do gooders around
the world.
Donations and services sent through Marsha M. are not reaching the legal
needs of the People of Big mountain at this time. The donations sent to
these supporters do not always get to the land, are not available to the
heart of the needs of the people, to the bellies or lives of those in the
greatest need. There are people calling themselves supporters and legal
council of big mountain yet these people are not accountable to the
current trials of Kee Shay. All who read this must know that Kee Shay has
no trustworthy attorney, no legal aid resources, has no one to assist his
efforts to confront and appeal the action of Hopi Tribal Council EXCEPT
the efforts of Louise Benally.
Louise and her family have been resisting and held the pulse of
sovereignty in the their hands for over two decades. Today Kee Shay looks
to Louise for support. and today in this way we ask for you to help him
survive this, another attempt at genocide.
If you have helped big mountain efforts in the past, or wish to offer
support at this time, please send donations DIRCETLY TO THE PEOPLE through
Louise Benally ear mark your offerings LEGAL DEFENSE, KEE SHAY....
SEND DONATIONS TO;
Louise Benally
po box 1042
Hotevilla, Az. 86030
"YOUR SUPPORT IS NECESSARY AS WE HAVE NO LEGAL FUNDS AT HAND TO USE FOR
THE PEOPLE GOING ON TRIAL AT BIG MOUNTAIN. THANK YOU. WAR IS IN THIS, BUT
THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE FOR A NEW TOMORROW."
--LOUISE BENALLY
July 12, 2000
Mexico Scandal Heats Up
MEXICO CITY (AP) -- Computer hackers hired by an opposition
political party have gained access to a list of bad bank loans
that cost taxpayers $7.3 billion, adding fuel to one of Mexico's
biggest political scandals.
The ruling Institutional Revolutionary Party, or PRI, which
forced a 1995 bank bailout through congress, had tried to keep
the list secret, fearing accusations that the loans benefited
the rich, according to news reports Thursday.
Big corporations, front companies, politically connected
businessmen, and bankers -- some of which are accused of fraud
-- were all on the list... {ed note: the rest of this story was
speculation, opinion and propaganda, so we snipped it right in
the bud...}
[ref][http://www.newsday.com/ap/text/topnews/ap752.htm]
& THIS JUST IN FROM OUR VERY OWN POETICAL FAH-Q
I look over my shoulder and see nothing
I look in the mirror and see nothing
Why won't these voices leave me alone?
Where do they want me to go?
I hear them all the time now.
The Dr's say they will go away
Take this med
Take that med
Doesn't seem to help
It's not like a voice in your head
It's a voice in the room with you
Surrounding you
Standing over you
Things are so confusing
I can't hear the T.V.
Music sounds so strange
With them singing along
I just want to close my eyes
Make it all go away
Fah-q (860)
Wedding / Casino
a poem by marco
"silver. Possessed." L.N.
The small problem with marriage
man gains
woman loses
The big problem with divorce
woman loses
man loses
The HUGE problem with marriage AND divorce
state wins
House always...?
======= ====
TALKING YOUTH TO POWER
a gonzo report from Al Gore's Ruinous Road to
Radical Religious Right Redshirt Republican Ruses
Recurringly Redneck and Remade.
Ryder, Rollins and Penske are here. Has no one
been left out???
There's more press, more secret service and more
lackeys, flunkies and politicos here at the amusement
park than I've ever seen in this place at any one time.
And Gore/Bradley and their ilk won't even get here until
tomorrow!
There's even a rumor floating around that rather
than the Beach Boys, they're going to have BackStreet
Boys and Britney Spears impersonators to start the
show.
Wait, that's not all. There's an MC on the flatbed
truck right this moment rehersing "So similar! So
similar to the real thing! You won't be able to tell
the difference!"
SPEAKING YOUTH TO POWER: Next Day, Same Shit.
Along with the secret service, press, fbi, cia, local
and state enforcement and assorted other spooks, geeks
and dorks, Al Gore brought all of Yale here to Green
Bay for a day. Never mind that his last stop was
Canterbury can I complain about something?
Politicians are just plain lousy for my economic well
being.
I announced this as I played street guitar in front of
a young determined journalist who had his heart set on
shouting to the VP on his way out, "as someone who wants
to look cool with the press, how come you're entertaining
no open Q&A?"
There were many different kinds of protestors there. Most
of them (us) got obscured in the press behind the Republican
protestors who stole the show. (can you say amerikan para-
military???) There was a handful of men in their 20's some
skinheads, some wearing the fake hollywood coneshaped bald
heads, orange robes and sandels, bouncing basketballs. they
were out to slam Bradley and Gore in one display of
assininity. Good work.
My friend Geoff from the local Latin American community
printed up flyers about Occidental and the U'Wa people
being adversely effected by Al Gore's economic choices,
another friend Adam wore his white plastic SOA death mask
and a T-shirt about the F-Word. There were about five
different kinds of flyers being passed out by various
different groups. Some anti-Gore, and some just, well,
anti-Gore.
I played guitar where I always play, but the firetruck
and saw horses being used to obstruct justice in honor of
the event made the space near me somewhat of a ghost town.
Politicians give out some kind of spooky energy that causes
people to tip me pennies, nickels and dimes mostly. Rather
than the quarters, ones and fives I'm used to. The hour
leading up to Al Gore's Ministry of Truth PepRally I made
a little more than two dollars. I played after he was done
for another hour and raked in the rest of my 11.37 for the
day. My average for the summer is 16 bucks per hour. Today
I made my average, and I also did the day before Gore. Go
figure.
One woman about my mom's age wearing a George Bush T-shirt
gave me my only early dollar bill. "I don't know if you're
republican or not, and I don't care," she said to me, "this
is because you're working so hard out here in the sweltering
heat."
An old grey haired man in a straw hat with an Al Gore
button, an Al Gore T-Shirt and bad bermuda shorts (the kind
with only one pocket and single stitching that Kathy Lee
Gifford sells for way too much) walked up and asked me if I
was on welfare. He and his narrow mind both seemed quite
surprised and disbelieving when I told him no.
Do you think making up a yes to that question might have
gotten me a tip from him? Would I have even wanted one from
him? I'll pass.
I took to telling people between songs that the main reason
I'm an anarchist is that republicans tip me a whole lot better
than democrats, and I refuse to embrace 3/4 of what rebublicanism
has to offer.
Many people (I'd say 5 or 6 at different times) thanked me for
providing live music at the event because they were sick of the
"canned crap" coming out of the loudspeakers.
Let's see, Dave Matthews I heard at one point out of those
things, and BTO's "you ain't seen nothing yet..." (that one
may even be public domain by now, unless Michael Jackson already
owns it.
Or is that even the canned crap he meant??
I wonder if the Gore campaign pays out any royalties for use?
Nevertheless, it WAS canned. I'd almost settle for the Beach
Boys or the impersonators, eh?
The Radio Station must've been just drumming up a rumor about
those impish personifiers, or they no-showed on old Al and Bill.
No, God no. Not another Bill on Capitol Hill. Please Lord. Spare
us.
When I'd first gotten there, I made the mistake (or was it really
a mistake? With me almost everything serves a perfect metaphor and/
or guerilla theatre.) of walking up to a ss man and asking, "where's
a little guy allowed to sing a protest song around here?" He started
out saying anywhere I'd like, so I continued on past him.
"Wait!" he said. "Did you say 'protest song?'"
"Yes," I told him.
"Hold it right there," he said, "I'll have to clear you. It'll
probably be fine." Fist over his face, talking into his wrist he
dialogues with "Mr. Main Man," (who I'll encounter later) who
instructs him that there's a general area I can go to where they
will search my guitar case and need to know exactly what songs I
plan to sing.
That's when I decided to go to my usual busking spot and sing
for the children and parents of the amusement park instead.
I did later succomb to the search but not the set list when
Bradley's rhetoric began because I felt like walking around the
crowd without singing.
At one point blue and white signs were hoisted high up in the
air by just about every single person except me, and I was
surrounded by people young and old all growling, looking and
sounding exactly like the Hitler Youth, all of them.
That's when I had this sudden brownish black feeling come
over me.
I'm surrounded by democrats.
Lost and alone, feeling more alien by the minute I went away
from there and ultimately back to where I played for my much
more lucrative hour.
It may sound like I'm saying democrats are cheap sons-of-bitches
and it would appear that I feel Al Gore is very bad for my
personal economic abilities on this planet.
You heard right.
SINGING YOUTH TO POWER
Next up comes my free hour. I found myself a spot which the
ss men hadn't planned for.
I sat under a tree for about an hour and played until the motorcade
passed me by. During "One Tin Soldier," how cool is that? Pure
poetics.
So there I was under a tree, right by the road. When the motorcade
bangs its first right - there I am right across the street lit up by
the sun, playing my '64 epiphone dreadnaught box guitar. Gore won't
hear me, I'm sure, but no way he's not going to see me unless
someone next to him covers his eyes, kicks him in the gonads or
points and says "look! Up in the sky, it's..."
Two police are within earshot of me. A local cop who seems bothered
by me but fairly tolerant and a state trooper whose task is to
direct the motorcade to that right turn that will pass me.
I hate sounding obsessed over self-importance here, but I was on
a mission. Jimmy Carter had Amy, constantly abugging his conscience.
Reagan had that son on SNL dancing around in a tu-tu.
Gore's got no one, people. Think about it. His children are yuppies.
They're like the Brady Bunch without the remarriage. His wife is,
well, his wife is HR2911, er uh, I mean Tipper. His wife is Tipper.
So he needs people like me just around every single corner.
Turn right Al, I'll be there. Turn left? There I'll be!
So he needs to see me, DK hat, an earring in each ear, my non-racist
skinhead haircut, my cut-off jeans, and my RC cola baseball jersey -
that's right. Neither republicrat nor demican, no pepsi, no coke -
and my Mickey Mouse slippers playing my guitar under a tree on the
perfectly-cubed factory-made wood chips that make my butt fall
asleep.
So this "Mr. Main Man," the head honcho of all the ss men, I mean
even the snipers up in the bell tower (we later learn they're local
SWAT team with m-16's) had to take orders from this dood. He leaves
his post at the front door, where I swear he'd been mounted since
Wednesday, yes, the front door to the famous Pavillion where FDR
made his first speech, and Lawrence Welk kissed his first girl,
and Proctor and Gamble fouled to their first lake and river to
condemnation, so many decades ago.
He left his main duty station to come address the concern of
some guy playing his guitar under a tree in the way of where
VP Al will be driving.
He walks up to the trooper, they each look my way about five
different times then whisper to each other like two teenage girls
planning out which one's going to ask me to ask someone out.
I saw the statey do one of those hand gestures that sort of
says, "don' worriabowdit."
I can't tell if it was my acoustic version of Black Magic Woman
or my weirdass reggae rendition of Aerosmith's Dream On that got
to him, but by some point in there he was all but full-on grateful-
dead-style dancing along to my music. A weird way of pacing he'd
developed so as not to look too weird jitterbuggin' there in his
uniform.
I'd love to get him on MTV teaching all the other little blue
uniform peeps all over the world those steps, but I digress. He
was doing that right up to the point when "Mr Main Man" walked
up on him. He then leaves him and comes over to ask how I'm doing.
"Great," I tell him.
"I need to make you pack everything up and move down there
somewhere," he tells me. "You can't be this close to the motorcade.
It would make me very uncomfortable."
"How come? So there's no possible way Al gets to see some young
man playing a guitar under a tree for the rest of his life?" I saw
by the look in his eye that my entire life suddenly made total
sense to him. Maybe he did the same Lightning Bolt as me back when
I was in the army. Or was it the light blue daisies? Or maybe the
paisley swirls? I'll never know.
"I just can't have you within spitting distance of the cars," he
saw me size up a certain part of the curb which was about as far as
I could ever get a loogie.
"It's a metaphor!" he told me smiling. I swear I'm not making a
single word up here. I told him I understand but that I'd already
had my guitar case searched and my whole person, and that I carry
no ill will toward anyone in the motorcade, and that this was very
important to me.
"OK," he said, "I can give you two choices," before having seen
that look in his eye I'd have thought for sure one of the choices
was jail-time.
"You can either pack up and move down there somewhere, or I stand
right here next to you the entire time."
"If you could do that," I told him, "I would really apreciate
it." He agreed, then explained that he had to do this because it
would be the only way he would be "comfortable."
I think one of the security guards at Disney World told me
something the exact same way with the exact same words once when I
was in 2nd or 5th grade. [was that you???]
That's the last thing he said to me. He stared forward during
three full songs. It was that stare a salamander gives you when
you can tell he's studying the heck out of you from the very edge
of his periferal vision.
Suddenly I thought of what his biggest fear probably was. He
likely watched a few too many reels of A-16 footage last year.
I was going to perhaps jump out in front of Gore's car and lay
down on the pavement to risk getting mooshed and stop the motorcade.
He'd have to tackle me before or after it perhaps risking his own
life as well. This was a very serious moment.
I was on autopilot the first two songs I sang him, so I can't
remember what they were. Was one of them Jon Anderson's "Seminole
Wind?" I honestly don't recall. But having no idea when the cars
would actually start, the next song that came to my mind was "One
Tin Soldier," from "Billy Jack."
He heard about two thirds of it.
When the last black-window-tinted car whizzed by he left me for
his original post to go relieve his relief. Never said a word. A
man on a mission. I finished the song and went home.
I'm certain Gore didn't hear me over the air-conditioning and
the steelbelted radials on the hot summer pavement, but I wonder
if he felt all this?
One could only hope.
Oh, one quick addendum. An earlier SS man who liked my DK hat
while I was busking asked me if I knew "Stink Foot" by Frank Zappa.
He confided in me that Zappa was his favorite artist ever.
I promise never to tell Tipper.
/\-----/
/ending/
/----\-/
We end ATI 233 with a very short poem by me and then
one by someone else.
Needless Things;
Need Less Things
send all sendmail to:
ati@etext.org
FORECLOSURE
a poem by Lorine Niedecker
Tell 'em to take my bare walls down
My cement abutments
their parties therof
and clause of claws
Leave me the land
scratch out: the land
may prose and property both die out
and leave me peace
