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========================================================================
Date: Sat, 19 Sep 1992 08:55:59 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: "globe"
"globe"
bee flies on ahead
fording the sunset glow on trees below
as great as Moses has his
message for the hive--a storm
let others be compiled
be endless lists, inumerable continuations
Peter Comester I call you
you shall be my jaded cook
or you shall sail for me the world
in search of forgotten spices, endless seas
a hammer, shall we say
for all our pretty pictures
amen
========================================================================
Date: Sun, 20 Sep 1992 23:52:05 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: phantom car halls in time
to put on the sublime ire. some carrier are much better than others,y'know.
working with street playback. Dutch Schultz last words tapes in the five
alarm fire. You will learn to steer a conversation where you want to
reach you objectives. Record the office for competeting with, the movement
of bowels and hearts. Now impose your dick. Become everything. Chew
up time with tape recorders. We'll turn up.
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 21 Sep 1992 10:57:13 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: & debt shill half node o' minion
in my report to the board i described how i wandered around
through the wreckage of my dreams and there was some air in
the smoke, but not much. Breathing Was Fun Then. Also, I
liked stealing everyone else's thing, making faces in the
mirror, using those disgusting things in the garbage, and
imagining for a moment that i didn't spend all those hours
laying my head on the railroad tracks
the trains would come and brush me back
their wheels would crush me head to toe
but that was oh-so-long-ago
and I sleep for a year and a day
Yes, it's all very well to be clever, but is there any money
in it? That was the question on my mind then and when I
asked her what the word "remember" on her keychain meant she
said, "Remember to take my pill." As in THE pill, as in, I
realized she is fucking SOMEBODY and it's not ME. I wallowed
in self pity, rubbed myself in brylcream, dashed down the
aisle, and filled the communion decanter with scorpions and
boy were they ever surprised!
Also, I liked sealing everyone else's think, making feces in
the merest, using those glovey things in the garage, and
imagining for a moment.
Turn on, tune out, hard up. I failed the turing test, twice.
After that, they wouldn't have me back, even though I Know People.
Laughing like a dildo buzzing on a wood floor, I slowly backed
out of the room, woke up, and burned the place down. "How much for
a dollar?", I will ask the bellhop. Guadalcanal, vacation spot of
the stars. Back then, the boys were men, and the men were lovely.
I'll start an arty newsletter with an obscure name and find a whole
new gang to make my enemies.
But first I have to get back to work; there's so much weeping
to do, little sessions with the collection agency, pissing off
the neighbors, and of course, lots and lots of fun driving!
the last green light has flickered on
outside the five & dime.
our parents lay down in their busy graves.
our childrens' souls we scorn to save.
we hang the wreaths on our cherished brave
and sleep for a year and a day.
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 21 Sep 1992 16:49:24 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: I'm a People-Person.
Greasywhiny lurks about on the net making blakklists of all
the people who have been so bad to him, and he'll get even
one day. His blakkrat-like eyes bulge at the screen, waiting,
just itching for the next person to show up and insult him.
He's the one The Beatles warned you about.
Blunger is on a mission. He bombards the lists with his
preachery, answers no charges, and imagines he is mysterious.
Underville is saving us all. He's polite and he's got it
right. Whack him, smack him, crack him! He's bigger than
all that. He will even share the Totality that is HimSelf
with you after the dust settles, because that's what he is
made of.
And Lubejibby, she's not gonna be pushed around no more.
This culture is a stack decked against her, dark socks, clip-
bored, officious highbrowisma, and nobody knows which side
of the screen they're on now. The commercials flash inside
your eyelids; no escape. No identity. No karma, no dogma,
no pukey memories of aborted reachout freakout to knock your
dark socks off in the middle of a sentence with your good
buddy jimbob out in the cuntry killin thangs. She ain't
gonna take that no more.
Sleep sleep sleep, the wires are crossing, snuggle in your
geosynchronous orbit and watch the surface of this ball sheet
over with steel, cyclonite and electricity. NO VISION comes
down, the prince of the presence decrees, psychotics float
through the roofs of their cells, hovering above passing
judgement on us all. Novision emerges in our crusty sleepy
eyes as a lush betrayal, our own spirits hungry for a good
joke, laugh it up! All things pass.
Gabriel has the plan, and the bankers are in the meeting,
getting the fax, conference call cold cocked right into the
big revvvvup. BLOW THE HORNS he says BLOW THE HORNS so they
break their lanterns and blow their horns and up go The
Psychotics! right thru the roof just like he said ssshhhaaaooow
right overhead they go by the hundreds their eyes flashing
different colors and they speak like a train wreck too fast
to understand JUDGEMENT ASSESSMENT ANALYSIS INSIGHT "personal
space" dissolves in a flood of incoherent jabbering nauseating
truth that EVEN YOU had forgotten and OH man, OH jeez
IT'S A NIGHTMARE
it's a falling dream, it's easy with NEW, IMPROVED PRODUCT!!
PRODUCT will solve all your USAGE needs! Our special ATTRIBUTE
will turn your USAGE problems into pleasure! Watch how THE
COMPETITOR tries to match PRODUCT. Independent studies show that
more people choose PRODUCT over THE COMPETITOR and you should too.
See! There's just no comparison! THE COMPETITOR left USAGE
untouched, while the amazing power in the PRODUCT ATTRIBUTE
solves USAGE in half the time, for half the money, so you only
get screwed half as much and you get to keep half your soul!
And these busy days, do you really need more than half of your
soul? NOT with NEW, IMPROVED PRODUCT! So come on, and pick up
a UNIT of PRODUCT today!
The Psychotics are hovering in place, evenly spaced. They have
started the Big Hum now, and as we creatures quake below, our
lizard brains throb with the realization that it is just a matter
of time. Sleep sleep sleep.
========================================================================
Date: Mon, 21 Sep 1992 11:00:00 EST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: No poem for today. This is a substitute, chosen at random.
From: Bialik Poetry Server <BIALIK@BRANDEIS.BITNET>
Subject: Poem number 920615
Them and UsRichard M. NixonShouldn't we be trying to get intelligence? Weren't they trying to get intelligence from us?Don't you try to disrupt their meetings? Didn't they try to disrupt ours?(%$&%)(*!)They threw rocks, Ran demonstrations, Shouted, Cut the sound system, And let the tear gas in at night.
What the hell is that all about?Did we doThat?
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1992 10:43:00 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: mawworm <H.UNIATZ>
Subject: the lie direct in the fifth degree
>From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
>one day. His blakkrat-like eyes bulge at the screen, waiting,
>preachery, answers no charges, and imagines he is mysterious.
>over with steel, cyclonite and electricity. NO VISION comes
>Psychotics! right thru the roof just like he said ssshhhaaaooow
>trains and trucks, tearing, ripping clawing each other in a crazed froth
>space" dissolves in a flood of incoherent jabbering nauseating
>get screwed half as much and you get to keep half your soul!
>The light breaks over the foaming white sea, alive with bubbles that
>lizard brains throb with the realization that it is just a matter
>They assume every form of dangerous, degenerate pastime, sexual,
>you mail the check? oh god let me in please he's gonna kill me this
Hello, Robert, I'm sorry to infer your problems with slumber, and,
seeing as you don't like hot cocoa, I'm unsure of quite what we could
do about it. Delusions of existence of the particular insistency of
those you manifest here are fairly uncommon, though might perhaps be
tackled by investigation of your (I presume) compulsive assumption of
past childhood from a Freudian perspective, having presupposed a fairly
low placement of both limen and light-bulb and the efficacy of the
lie-detector machine. Do your colleagues beat you up during your
coffee-breaks, or is it all mere prudent speculation on your part, mental
realignment for the day when they might? Mind the wires on your way out,
Robert, and don't let the libthugs wreak malicious harm to your person
or chattels.
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1992 08:46:24 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: I ... I, I, uh, I ....
... sleep well, like hot cocoa, turnoffs are war, world hunger
and people who smoke tee-hee, would like to meet interesting
brushfire to share delusions. Freud? Who's Freud? What's
limen? Sorry, no collegues today, and we're fresh out of lie
detectors. Try the ginger-root!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~robert holder~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~VISUALIZE MECHANIZED WAR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1992 11:15:03 CST
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: GR4302
Subject: to H & R to make mush of tiddly-winks and nudges
My dear traitor to the EastAnglians, I believe this man IS using
his fleshly name, brave in this sewer, but he does work for the
government and maybe that's enough, those two quirks plus this
e-zone of sad lower-order mycology, to doom him insane. Still,
can you deny his belonging to this place? Robert, I don't know
who you are, I don't know who anyone is on this list, but this IS
your home. Welcome home. Now don't tell us what your name used to
be.... better submerge and come back in a week as someone else.
I mean I know I haven't done that in a while but that's because I've
been reduced to gr4302 and what less (or more, more or less) can
I become? Yeah, well I know ol' grubnub calls me GR, but I hate that,
sounds flippin' corporate or penisenvy. I'm not the leader, see, just
the court-jester, better a heyoka than already spilt pig offal, I say.
Still, most good mythographers would grant that power! Sorry to make
fun of you'all in such a blatantly vulgar way. Wait till part three of
{fill in}City comes out. That's right wait is the key word. I'm rilly
supposed to be writing this is an understandable code for the cultural
elite and now its become too late but for me to do that nasty little
piece of business as well, but as well is the catch word, for your
sniveling e-hungry maws will force me to it at times....I do it to unwind,
see? And you zoo get all the sloshings. Ye be my WC/ Luck wit' ye/
Luck wit' ye/ Hehehehe
#@#@$%@#@$@#%::;;;;;;;^##
"left in piece would make my day"
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1992 14:06:14 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: 599cc's of FAST FAST FAST RELIEF
my first memory is of being shaken and sent down a long
pipeline into a warm dark place where my subconcious was
pigeon holed in Vienna for some jokers doctorate.
I then (1) grabbed life by the neck, (2) slapped it in
the face, (3) tweaked it's smarmy cheek and (4) loaned
it my car, girl, parents, job, bank account and my lucky
molecule, and met a girl named L. who made me speak
in tongues and just Oooo! get all Saved and go tah heh-vun
and just be dancin' around with the Angels and *everything*!
my favorite part about the bike was how it improved my
signing voice. Rahneespahts, Aeysa Bridge call GANDY en ah
yewsta hit 130 ownher. Ennal tellyuh, thets FAYUST pard.
Mebbuhyew nothuh GANDY, binnarahneer? Rall naas stretch.
Wunhunnert-thutty hezuh VOWISS, enshill towk rat tewyuh.
Yuhnowutshehsez? "Dawntyew fuckup".
Finally, it all came together for me in one clear moment.
All of a sudden, I could see the distance that separates
everybody, I could see it just like I see you now... I was
standing there and the band was playing and Black Francis
was screaming his fool head off and all those bodies were
smashing into me and each other and it just all came clear.
They'll never make a bridge for that kind of valley.
here's a jingle. or is it a ditty? I forget...
Great Big Important Things Filter Through My Mastermind
Phallacious Bosomy Concrete Brawns Uplift My Literate Hamsterhind
The Last Great Wave Of Me Ideas Pours Full Of Me Through Me To Me
My Utter Total Literary Amazingness Floods Through My Personality
Meter Subjugate
Rhyme Proliferate
Toil Procrastinate
It's All For Me!
My Big Ideas Supplant For All And Cornhole All Poetic Scrawl
I Define The Everything! I Declare That I Am King!
My Great Big Desire Has A Capital "D"!
The World Mocks Itself And I Mock Me!
I Twiddle Words And Twaddle Form For Mote And Speck Of StrokeMeStorm
(i've forgotten some words here...)
And The Gentle Satire Turned Prodding Leer Turns To Ash
And Anger And Starts To Sear
I Turn In My Tracks As I Reach For My Salve
It's Gritty And Ridiculous But It's All I Have
Then A Spark Of hope With A Heavy Disclaimer Rides Up
On A Pale Horse And Asks Me To Marry Her
I Think Of It Once As I Make Up This Song--
"everything in this book may be wrong"
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1992 13:37:00 -05
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: Merciful Lee Dickens <DICKENS>
Subject: Reply to 599cc's of FAST FAST
Your problem is obvious.
Merciful Lee Dickens
========================================================================
Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1992 17:36:20 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: oBVIOUS pROBLEM
?
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1992 00:58:56 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(ol' grubnub)" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Re: Baseball?
In-Reply-To: <9209222042.AA >; from "LIBWCA" at Jul 23, 92 5:12 pm
HAG, in her anti-establishment household she has fortified in the
lion-slumbers-tonight-hush-my-<darling.>-king-of-the-jungle of
Burlington fails to garner the complete tangleroot and snagglehold
which has befallen the Braves' fair city. Not merely Men, in
their sickening repulsiveness and unerring straight-arrow doctrines
of crippling economies (I hear ya, sister! (though the recent
addition of TEG to yr dwelling suggests you didn't read Dworkin's
_Intercourse_ carefully enough))
Intermission: I have some friends before me gone (One more river to cross) By the grace of God I'll carry on (One more river to cross)
There's a beam of light to guide me on (One more river to cross) In the black of night to the break of dawn (One more river to cross)
Wide River of Jordan, Lord, One more river to cross
--Sons of the Pioneers
but kindly rust, white, and blue-haired gently-aged ladies can explain
why Glavine will get the Cy Young and Prime Time deserves the money
he makes: and even expanding: HAG also allows the all-pervasive
influence of TBS to lie waste, kissing syndication to WGN and the Cubs,
so the national appreciation fails to moss-gain. Don't show bunt: the
whole of the city shows, within its dire loop, none of the bustling
which is its own to dispense: even the new toy down in Vineland (yeah,
Vine City, but perhaps with allusions to one of his mentors DAF might
waken from his American Splendour Funk Dayz that he's entered into a
demenia praecox over) (W2, for those following on MARTA) has already
shown the initial signs of unkempt topiary as the kudzu gains entrance
(but they DON'T play "Dixie" during the major functionaries pitch-
throws) and invite from the plenty faction which won't drive down
there anymore from dread of a misplace in the lack of a prosper
carpark: might as well be in California: no sense of urgency: no
bridges tossing cranes into crowds (See! Fandom recrimination tactics!
The Hunt for a Miss Windy City! Techno (this last for Robert Holder,
who suggests an mbm abacus-operator (count, man, count!) with an
unfortunate continuous voiceover) in sleek strobes!): and I find,
groggy, I'm out to Avondale (E7), where compensation Estates found
funding for hedgeways into the city proper (explanation: unlike most,
it never was the whole belonging to Fulton, and it couldn't be, as
"back in the good ol' days", unitary county power distribution would
not even allow for jerrymandering: so: expand (expand (expand)), and
own several counties, all in municipal palpitations (jury districts):
(and a criticism to GR[sic]'s Gook[sic]city: an ageist movement would
never take place in yr model city: heads are counted by their ability
to roll: but Aristocratic Remnants and old growth cash dist. tenets
make it a perfectly glorious Southern (Bournemouth, m'dear) bow of the
head: recast in treed civics)): so, I make my stalking stake: I Will
Locate and Eliminate the One Who This Week Calls Himself Ernest. Well,
why not? It's a vac(ill)ation, right? Past Druid Hills (didja go
there, Gen. Millsap?) into thee glorious and most sacred mortal plain
of Emory
Intermission: S A T-U-R D-A-Y NIGHT! S A T-U-R D-A-Y NIGHT!
--Nina Hagen (ho, ho, just kidding, rilly it's the Bay City Rollers)
where I stood before the unfathomably unfinished Museum Pieces (marble
marvel, Cube) shouting "elcitset citehtsorp ym gnivom speek enoemos"
and finding that that has no effect: might as well be in California:
no sense of common distrust: Mr. Horrible (the critics rave (might as
well be in California)): are you Acworthy, 3133, Yarker, or, God
forbid, could there be more than one?
The Cuthbert saga was abrupt: searched in all the Malte Shoppes and
the Maltese Dome aforementioned, trailed it to Hoedown's (next to Tops
'n' Tails and pussycat corner to The Colon Aid where a bar tab bet
helped jog the whole of "the Ghastlycrumb Tinies" vex-like in mused
fashion out of my throat ("A is for Amy who fell down the stairs /
B is for Basil, assaulted by bears") before I found chagringing in
mine own ears that Willy don't play that city-side: nice Iron-Works
Facade, though. Found a Suedehead in Hartsfield (S7) and knew I was
leaving just in time.
Not kidding, though, Yarker, about yer puny 98lb reference frame:
I nearly mistook you for one of us this last time, which you might
be at great pains to conceal.
Did I forget to mention the Whatizit scandal? Oh, yeah, alp's stymied.
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1992 01:17:33 GMT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
Comments: Warning -- original Sender: was not feeling well
From: "(ol' grubnub)" <cheating@CCVM.SUNYSB.EDU>
Subject: Surfeit
Stony Brook (UPI)--
The contract talks have reached a complete standstill, and it would
seem that, for now, the season is over for what had seemed prior to
development to be one of the more promising story gatherings.
The crux has been the on-going talks between management and A.M.
Ward. Ward did not appear in the last installment but for a partial
contractual fulfilment which saw his name in print. Under dispute
is both the amount that Ward was scheduled to receive for his role
as the idiotic criminal element as well as his desire to see a
rewrite of the original ending.
"It's a travesty," Ward's agent and his aunt Bethelda Ward read a
prepared statement at a press conference this morning, "that the so-
called authors of this piece can't understand why Ward is against his
portrayal, particularly in light of the violent ending. We feel
strongly that this could do permanent damage to Mr. Ward's career as
a character in future tales."
Management for the series of installments (which had been previously
referred to by Ward as "a bunch of mossy vignettes") has already
called a halt to any further development and appears ready, at
present, to cede defeat and has even been rumoured to be examining
new ventures with some of the others who had appeared in the story.
"Well, it's unfortunate, but it appears to be largely out of our
hands," stated one corporate official who declined to give its name.
"But, in the mean time, we're very excited by the Cladistic Man
comic book that will be coming out next spring, as well as the
continuing merchandising of the Sopworth Ego line of toys."
Although it was suspected that, at the time of its last installment,
the readership had dwindled to no more than the writers themselves,
no one at Savage Inquiries, Ltd., would confirm that the decline in
revenue had played a role in the decision to suspend the storyline.
"Actually, we're gearing up to get a benefit concert tour of the
corporate executives going in the next few weeks. We think we've hit
on a pretty good slant, which is that we'll be raising money for
diseases which can be represented by two letters, tb, ms, and the
like. Not really the kind of thing we'd be doing if we weren't
operating from a solid base."
A.M. Ward is supposedly looking into developing a line of perfume and
cologne, as well as devoting more time to his chain of trailer parks,
the Here and Now.
Other members of the storylines were ambivilent. The Roinn Oideachais
was determined to put a good face on it, which was difficult, as it
did not appear to have a head or surface which would allow for the
carving of features. "Self is disappointed, but self understands from
when self was trying to renegotiate self's contract last year. These
things can be a trial, and if they convict you, well, that's that,
you've gone to seed, dust to dust, as they say. I seem to have
forgotten the question. Harumph."
At least one member was candid; the Vicar stated with some degree of
frustration that, compared to what had already happened to his own
character, "Ward was barely nicked up. Hardly mistreated. Just once,
I'd like to go through one of these things in its entirety without
having these battles of egos. It's a sincere disappointment."
The private detective, the frog, and Circe, who had yet to make an
appearance, are among those reportedly already with new stories.
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1992 09:15:00 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBALP
Subject: We know from Bay City Rollers
The good news is, Cuthbert was never remotely in danger. The other goodnews
is, there apparently are more than one of us. Had you actually made thetrek
to Acworth, you would have figured. Had you then traveled -oohwee- just ali'l
more, you would have found Cartersville, and could have interviewed theparents
and the high school teachers. So much for Druid Hills.
But how about some much-needed perspective:
CHEATING comes to Our Fair City, documents the public transit locationcodes,
speaks to the elderly about Ponce de Leon Deion, notes name of what folkshere
call a "titty" bar Right down the street from where I live, goes to Avondale
for what purpose, does his homework, comes to this very campus, Mummy gazes,
this very building even, takes a gander, and DOESN'T ALREADY COME SAYHOWDY-DO?
WHAT KIND OF WRETCHED LIFE DO YOU LEAD, FER CHRISSAKES?!?
WE'RE FRIENDLY HERE, AREN'T WE? WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE HELL?
If you look up a number, you must call it, or die, like li'l whatshisname,of
ennui.
Crazy.
Crazy, Cheating, Crazy. I don't say it often.
140 Circulation,
alp
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1992 12:24:45 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: LIBWCA
Subject: CHEATING as lurker
Why, you repulsive sack of pustulent, fluid-filled sacks of pus! Who
do you think you're fucking with, man? Do you really think you can
SCARE us by waltzing in here, memorizing the station numbers, and
BLOWING YOUR GODDAMN BRAINS OUT IN THE MEN'S ROOM? You wanna talk to
the guy who had to clean that up, slug-bait? Or maybe you'd rather
have a little chat with the MARMOSETS? Jesus Christ, what's happened
to your BRAIN, boy? Facile pyrotechnics are for dazzling the lower
orders; they don't work on professionals, and you are by god expected
to know that.
Suit up, punkin. We're coming for you. Show bunt and I'll cut your
heart out.
Cuthbert
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1992 16:52:57 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: Have Some Balm Injun Joe
abacus operator with unfortunate continuous voiceover seeks
doublegood guru to fix all his problems. Please apply in
person to Breezy Culture-R-Us, Inc. Must be willing to work
weekends, and have all answers. Ability to isolate doublebad
teenyvision Icarus Wannabe undesirable qualities a plus. If
you're a team player and can Show The Way, send resume and
salary requirements. No phone calls please.
aw shucks, I could *too* white-wash that fence as good as you!
Here's my nickel, let me try!
robert h
========================================================================
Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1992 17:15:04 EDT
Sender: SUNY/Stony Brook Literary Underground<SBRHYM-L@SBCCVM.BITNET>
From: "(Robert Holder)" <WHIPLASH>
Subject: The Vicars Scars
Please tell the story of the Vicars' Scars! Or a perhaps you might
furnish a Baedecker's for the trailer park chain?
>seem that, for now, the season is over for what had seemed prior to
>development to be one of the more promising story gatherings.
>
>battles of egos...sincere disappointment
"development" can end. egos can be stilled, no disappointments.
how might this happen? (nurse, I'm ready for my local now.)
robert h
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