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Evolution Issue 12
{e v o l u t i o n}
{i s s u e n u m b e r t w e l v e}
{3 0 n o v e m b e r 1 9 9 7}
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:(the foyer):
I just noticed today that evolution turned a year old a few days ago.
happy birthday, little zine..
______________________________________________________________________
:(some random stuff I did while freestyling):
the guitar plays softly in the next room
I hear its ringing chords
except they're not ringing
they're shouting
shouting curses at the sky
each one heavy with sarcasm and nochalance
out of view, the sky misses these subtle attacks
and carries about its business
the sky, mighty in its omnipresence, keeps watch over the masses
below it, shuffling about cities, lounging in cool country
settlements and retreats
it was 250 miles south of here that the rain first came
those first drops felt
to most, it is a distant memory, replaced with the important dealings
of the day
some have lost the memory entirely
two still remember
two still crouch at their beds, crushed and tortured by the pictures
of that rain in their minds
mindless to the passing cars and subjugative masses
drifting farther from reality
and into the dream.
:(11.25.97):
______________________________________________________________________
when their logic grows cold and all thinking gets done
you'll be warm in the arms of the mayor of simpleton
- xtc, "mayor of simpleton"
______________________________________________________________________
as part of trying to come up with a better understanding of the human
condition (a large part of what this zine is about to me), I've
devised this survey. honestly, a lot of it was taken from a similar
survey done by a friend of mine in her zine, but some of this is my
own. I just thought that many of her questions were ones that I were
interested in asking. the results will be kept entirely private,
unless of course you want me to divulge yr identity, in which case
I'll do my best to stick yr name in. the questions follow no
particular theme, really.. there may be a few that are thematically
linked, but as a whole, the questions are fairly random. some are
meant to provoke serious thought, others not.. decide for yrself
which is which.
to respond, simply email me back (dtb@underworld.net), or write by
snail mail if you have a printed copy of this. I'd like to compile
the results fairly soon, hopefully in the next issue, so by
mid-january at the latest, if you please.
'shut up and ask us questions already, duct tape boy.'
1. define punk.
2. what is yr favorite color?
3. what did you have for dinner last night?
4. define love.
5. how many CDs, records, and tapes do you own?
6. are there any bands/artists that you like that you don't tell yr
friends about?
7. how often do you brush yr teeth?
8. how often do you bathe?
9. what would you like to accomplish in yr lifetime, but fear you
never will?
10. do yr spiritual beliefs approximate those of a specific religion?
if so, which?
11. do you ever go to church, temple, or similar religious meeting
place?
12. do you like yr body? why/why not?
13. do you have more or less than the amount of friends you'd like to
have, or just the right amount?
14. do you have any childhood fears that still haunt you?
15. what is yr least favorite beverage?
______________________________________________________________________
"sometimes sweet girls get left behind."
______________________________________________________________________
:(another excerpt from looks yellow, tastes red):
: you may ask why I keep including bits from this zine. it's usually
: because the section I'm quoting reflects my own life in some way.
: such is the case with the following passage.
I've reached this plateau or something where I don't care so much
about what happens. I still have hopes and dreams and all that, I
guess, but I don't feel like I know what they are. I know that I
don't want to go back to school next year or the year after that and
maybe never, or maybe just when I make up my mind.. when it isn't
just some meaingless, hellish waste of time and maybe money too. I
can't think of too many things I want out of life right now.
: looks yellow, tastes red
: p.o. box 1275
: wellfleet, ma 02667
: current subscription rates are:
: $1+stamp for one issue, $3 for 4 issues
______________________________________________________________________
my favorite plum
lies in wait for me
I'll be right here
longing endlessly
you'll say that I'm foolish to trust
but it will be mine and I know that I must
cuz I've had the rest, yes
and that is the one for me
I've seen the best, yes
and that is the one for me
- suzanne vega, "my favorite plum"
______________________________________________________________________
it is clearly time to go to bed.
the clock reads 1:11, and I have class at 9.
still, I remain awake.
why?
I don't really know the answer to that.
I'm painfully tired - that sleepy headache feeling is upon me.
my eyelids are heavy.
I yawn.
my throat is a bit dry, a common ailment for me during the winter
months when I am tired, both going to sleep and waking from it.
yet, I do not go to bed.
as compelling as my bed is, just three feet away, I do not submit.
perhaps it is my youth speaking.
"sleep is for the old, the boring."
"you should be living while you're still able to."
however, there sin't much living to do at 1:18 in the morning on a
sunday night.
the majority of people in this time zone are asleep.
those who are not asleep are either procrastinating on it, working,
or in new york city.
(the city never sleeps, you know.)
someday, I will be a part of that city.
I will leave from under the skirt of boston's motherly aura and dive
into a slightly different world.
and then, I too will never sleep.
______________________________________________________________________
"I feel the rock power.. "
______________________________________________________________________
skool is coming to a close. with that, evolution takes a break..
this one is out of necessity (I won't have regular net access) rather
than for other reasons (like this summer). I realize that I didn't
keep with the tradition of the christmas-season poetry issue.. oh
well. there's plenty of poetry in this thing anyway.
have a yummy winter.
______________________________________________________________________
{+ e v o l u t i o n +}
{writer/editor/solipsist/messiah : duct tape boy}
{c o m m u n i c a t e}
electronic mail : dtb@underworld.net
acoustic mail : ms 6450, 71 wilder street, lowell, ma, 01854-3097
telephone : (978) 934-6112
irc : channel #couzin-ed, server irc.underworld.net
telepathy : envision a roll of duct tape
(C) 1997 mono boy industries
