Anthologist's note: Theme-ing 'beat', treat so sweet for the rhyming scholar in me, chagrin of Gins - heart attack of Kerouac, but fuck 'em they're all dead - that said homagely, i listen for my bongo bustin' hipster hoppin razzmatazz, the jazz of fragx that calls of street, that drips the after droppings after hookup at the bar, that views from afar the scenes from right outside, the screams that live in pillows that smother us for ever night. cats and kittens snaps sleep tight -
we may be outasight but we sure as hell aint beat-en.

and in english, the following selections reflect a particular urbanite angstish agitation. brash, bewildered, charged, pugnacious and sometimes selfishly petulant, taken together these pieces form an interesting, updated portrait of a neo-beat nation. i'm sure you'll find these works provoking, if nothing else.

 

home
Ravyn Jazper-Hawke - ravynaz

gutter punk drag queen heroin overdose dwelling with teapots. don't tip them over. swords on mantel, smoke on porch house. gothic freak with blond hair hates virgin married chick. cat piss stained couch that guests sleep on. throw trash down laundry chute, will land on shadow's table. waitress with no day off, scottish kilt-clad drunk... only place my heart is happy.

 

not Butch enough?
Jessica - enigmatica

I fell in love with cock
When I read Allen Ginsberg's HOWL,
And wished that I could have
one, (no balls, thank-you,
I've my own gutsy milk-mounds),
all mine, long enough
to know I didn't want it.

It's hard enough
to find a woman as a woman
cockless and courageous and
confident today --no and yes and no,
I think I'd find
I'm better loving crowing singing
copulating phallus
from afar.

 

St. Sebastian Syndrome
Michelle Flick - m_flick98

Shooting word/image arrows of poison-tipped untruth - graphic, violent, amoral - at the innocence of youth. Spearing through the airwaves countless careless lies. Lust that calls invest and trust in the best disguise. Shot through with arrows, benumbed and mesmerized, rows of little floating ducks await the advertised. Electronically delivered curare - what it means, The pornography is free if you buy the jeans.

 

Beard's All White
Charles - ritalinmonkey

Broken man, poet man
Sitting by the window
From a pre-fab vantage point,
Does philosophy strike behind
A shell-shocked stare?
Broken man, poet man
Cigarette neglected
Trails smoke telltale of
An approaching end
Does a beaten mind care?
Broken man, poet man
Head bent in weary contempt
Eyes heavy with the view outside
The melancholy of a
Broken man, poet man.

 

sorrow (1)
Travis DuCote - travis_fury

my hands are soaked in wish yet amazingly don't smell like fish but the stains that are left cannot be explained by modern science and blood still flows through my appliance

a man has needs and the needs exceed all common sense, my mortal soul the expense of leading a life which some call productive and others call sin and the sad part is I have yet to begin on my trip down the drain as physical pleasures cause pain in my brain

I got no time for the 20 hour workweek mealy mouth no account high end vocab frustrated is all I get and yet somehow I get stuck in conversation with those who open their mouths and let the nothing flow

fiscal success is a matter of opinion and the rat race is a game that no one is winning and after all there's no prize for the size of the ulcer which is caused by the loss of individual freedom and the need to continue pleading with the subordinate overlord whose sword is dulled from hacking away at the spirit of those who slave for the minimal wage

 

Bus Stop Montage
Anitra Freeman - anitra2001

"This isn't City.
All the stores are closed.
This is Night,
and I am safer in my book."

"This is the place between work and home: the long dull ride
between frustrating boredom and irritation."

"This is the Main Street,
this is the Hot Time,
this is the Bad Dude,
you ain't gotta Clue!"

"This is the Feeding Ground.
There's a likely pocket.
Soft Touch; Too Strong;
That one's Broke."

People start to glance my way,
increasingly.
A woman on the bus
darts sharp, quick glances at me
as she reads car ads.
This is the Danger Ground
between safe burrows.
I am possibly Falcon.

I have discarded layers of gags over my mouth;
I never noticed
the silent press of the Gag Order on Eyes.

 

//[Pepper]
Dorian Bybee - dystopic

sometimes, lying here
listening to the ice age outside my window
i'd like to dream in technicolor
falsify my id to my ego
sneak round back to the kitchen
and unscrew all of the pepper shakers
watch myself curse and scream
when my plate filled with black powder
-black is more like a dark gray
in technicolor,
we're all dark gray on black

 

qu'est ce-que c'est
Ben Dixon -candymcnab

.under phallic cooling towers vast
with phallic smoke that searches heights
on phallic benches laze and laugh
at phallic office blocks overstaffed
and phallic buses, cars that passed
on long straight roads through phallic lights
as phallic girls in phallic shoes walk past
and phallic phones echo and rattle, blast
heard phallic sounds through phallic glass
and later phallic knives that slice
through sandwiched phallic past.

 

{Wardour_Street}
Robert Matthews - dark_poet

Sex shops
film companies
bargain basement record store push
sharp suits
boil in the bag cool
dead-heads with dreads
selling baggies of bush
Neon Nightmare
cafe swank
shoulder-to-shoulder-argie-bargie
no chance of a moment of shush

Wheelers and dealers
clubbers and pubbers
young bucks and old queens
getting it on
with business-only-lovers
a score gets you blown
(twenty pounds)
if your face is well known
or their impatient mark
will bark
bark
bark
you down Îtill the
ladies headÌs shown

Step off the curb
into another trendy bar
where twenty-something day-trippers
drink Red Bull & vodka
inhale poppers
next to coke fiends
and pill droppers
when deep down inside
they know theyÌre
pushing it too far

And come eleven oÌclock
the rainÌs always a shock
as theyÌre herded
out into the night
like bovine livestock
out into the fight
for a place in the queue
of the latest hot spot
Hot spot?
Guess not
Îcos the bass sounds like fuzz
and the heat kills your buzz
and the bouncers are strict
until they want their fix
so when itÌs time to go home
you always wind up alone
on the worst come down
right here
in swinging London Town

 

word.of.g.o.d.
Dale Price - faustshausuk

Words, minds, trivialised like a time bomb, ticking, persistant, a drum beat kicking in time to parallel thoughts on a different plane, standing out in the rain with a pencil and a gun, which will you choose - the hard or the fast one? The pen is mightier than the sword but I'm lost for words, trying to comprehend the lesser of two evils - God? Does he exist? Hidden in scriptures my wandering eye missed? His weapon is the word, but I'm not hearing - there's a guy in a sandwich board says the apocalypse is nearing and I'm inclined to believe. Cut through the gloss and what have you got underneath? The world is rotten to the core and I'm bored, poring over magazines in the local store, trying to find a truth that doesn't exist anymore.

 

note to self
Allison - redmercury

Wake up in the morning and shave thighs
Thank feet for carrying you this far out of warmth
Curse the ankles that give out on you going downstairs
Call memory
Remind reality.
Tell the 'inner-child' to get her lazy ass out of bed
Make coffee, write the list more
Bury self love
Cultivate self loathing
Pick at the loose flesh fat on the side
Make bacon
Worry about jobs, cholestrol, money, sex
What's that smell?
Take a shower.
Cleanse, feel born
Where's the soap?
Buy soap (paper soap)
Fluffy industrial towel stole from a hotel three years ago
Think of her and the mole on her right....
Get out of the shower, comb hair
Old.
Gray.
Walk back to the stairs, remember the ankles
Fall to sleep at the foot of the last step in which everything began the night before.

 

the american dream
Echo McCartney - soundstream

its mine
its not yours
you didn't work for it
i did
but i'm not greedy
i just donÌt want to be told what i have to do
i donÌt want to be told that i have to be compassionate
i believe in the american dream
let me have it

 

Spaceboy Lunartage
Po - hlhq

Dear H L H Q,
you are so luscious today,
oh--and nice eyebrows.


On my whereabouts:
I arrived on Earth just now,
big disappointment:


you are not with me.
actually, you are not here.
I don't know this place.


above my head is
the letter M..big..neon..
my nose is itching.


when I was in space,
your hair was glowing so bright--
didn't do my job right.


I saw you pushing
through the populous people
trying to make way.


Poor H L H Q,
I wish I could protect you
instead of NASA.


I am here my dear
and I am still full with youth.
I love those shoes girl!


I will earn money,
buy you the biggest things on
your little planet.


I will provide you
with Edward Norton and that
man Kevin Spacey.


As long as you will
let me watch ally mcbeal.
I love you so much.