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X Magazine #13

Jack Szwergold

Orange marmalade
spreads smoothly
over burnt, shitty toast

Tina Steinmortel

Someone's knocking at the door
It's Mr. Whipple
He says we need more Calgon(tm)

Take me away

Ode to the Penii (part I)
Tina Steinmortel

The penii
The penii
Oh! The penii

Threat to the Editor

Mister Editor
You look out, you, for
Halibut Heads
In Bed.

My Love For You Is Like A Trombone
(Flared, Brass, and Full of Spit)

Honk honk honk
honk honk honk
honk honk honk honk honk


C. H. Draft

Years of Cheese War
Takes its toll.
I still do not understand
how they operate the guns.


Hopped up on a headful of leprechaun chutney, I
spoke to some angels but they told me
the leprechauns were a bunch of liars.


All cats should have the same name:
that of a heavy sharp-edged object
whizzing through the air
at their heads.

The Cheese Squeeziest
Tina Steinmortel

Squeeze the CheezWhiz(tm) through your fingers
Rub it on your knees
Cheesy, Cheesy; sure to please

Water Wings

Moses, the baby in the rushes, would not have fared so well
had the rushes
been man-eating monsters.

X Magazine #5

32 hours of continuous offsides
Brian Ross

The challenge of
Cat hockey.

Vincent Price Meets Eric Hoennecker
Brian Ross

You must be Eric.
You are Vincent Price.
You really screwed up East Germany, eh?
No. I liked your Dr. Phibes.
Thanks. Bye.

Breasts suck babies in reverse universes
Brian Ross

I see you.
You are everywhere.
You invade my dreams.
Your image sears my retinas
Like a supernova
Off the coast of Orion.
I am sightless before you.
You are everywhere still.
Get lost, Ernest Borgnine.

Kissinger Licks the Toast
Brian Ross

I could use
A cassette deck.

Mike Cramer

Haiku haiku hai Haiku haiku haiku hai Haiku haiku duck.

Jimmy Hoffa's Camera
Mike Cramer

My love is like an icicle.
It melts
and hangs from a tree.
Contintental drift is wonderful;
it brings you closer to me.

Kissinger Invents "Toast Sex"
Brian Ross

I could still use
A cassette deck.

X Magazine #4

I am a Farm
Brian Ross

I am a farm,
Oh yes, I am a farm.
My thighs are fertile green pastures
dotted in the distance with contented sheep.
My torso is a garden
growing kind tomatoes and carrots.
My feet are two horses,
my toes are chickens,
and my shoulder blades are diesel tractors.
You can't tell me to get lost, dammit,
because I am a farm.
Always have been,
always will be.
Now get off my land.

Steve & Edie Park Somewhere
Mike Cramer

Puppets made in Spain
Simplicity inexact
Strings tie up my nose

A poem using the word "carrion" alot
Mike Cramer

She was carrion my heart away
Over the Grand Carrion.
What's that smell?
Oh, it's carrion.
Yes, carrion.
Charlie Chaplin is retired carrion.
Salute to carrion.
Carrion... carrion... carrion.

Cat Hockey
Mike Cramer

I like to
cold little paws.

X Magazine #1

Ode to a Pit Bull
C H Draft. annotations by Paul Bruneau.

I see you in the yard
(Pit Bull, Pit Bull)
I see no fence
(Pit Bull, Pit Bull)
Running jumping clamping
(Pit Bull, Pit Bull)
I vaguely wonder
"Why won't you let go"
("oh, you crazy Pit Bull kind-of-guy, you")

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