'theres a riot going on: quick throw away your ciggies, & leave your house, in the wrong place; breathe & drink water &-if necessary-the milk, lie on a sunny riverbank. though you may seem useless ignoring the rubbish floating by youre working away; at your next big thought & the approach youll use with a boy, without headphones: ghosts, jesus said will be with us always technology doesnt change-that, if you could retract that look-' you stand still on flinders lane remembering a man from somewhere, who burnt himself, to make it familiar; its the opposite, tack but you dont know his pressures, borders hes slipped through, of reality of personality, anything he does is shocking- he holds his heart like its a handle, he doesnt-make, anything, still theres a trace of his sweat in your food clothes, run, you were born where they didnt need a black market. youre a student-of your own weakness history & you act, as if well, contents irrelevant, newness- your only criteria but incompatible with so much you want to save eh; each little influence & wisdom, only solves biggies, so many smallies, in the realm of problems, each time you must decide what different, thing you- are going to do with the dead soldiers, though you want to resist, without fighting (his head on the steeringwheel like its a pillow) look to your friends &-unfortunately their cultures much the same as your own so you stop, climb a hawthorn & (neglecting to look at the braches-leaves view) pick berries for the dying.... that wont save them & wont save you dont kill a priest because a book said to yet where does instruction come from these days: 'in history everyones brought back to life again'; so history expands in your mind releasing some of the guilt you stir with your knife & life; maybe becoming what you fear is an answer- i mean if you fear your parents- their mistakes are of a different-kind too: though liable as anyone to be checked. by the words of a guru its harder if people disappear they come back dead of course or dont, the less they leave the more motivation. for example they go down to the river, to escape their husbands-bark, bark, he kills his dog; you take the child & make a new life it seems impossible to do what you did before except-error, error-& you realise that yous not you: 'but someone else altogether.'
27: EXPERIENCE
Poetry Editor Terry JaenschReleased February - March 2008
Index of Poems
Contributor Notes
Cover Image: Emilie Zoey Baker
We ended the 2008 summer with EXPERIENCE, the second of our William Blake-inspired issues and the perfect riposte to INNOCENCE. Join Terry Jaensch in another bumper issue's worth of poems! R U Experienced? Kfxbai.





