THE SWEATING LAKE by John M. Bennett
233 pp.  -  $19
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“Poetry”in many experimental or avant modes and voices, and in a mix of languages, sounds, and visualities. John M. Bennett practices a true yet new trans-linguistic art, which is at the same time deeply embedded in language and its history as the primary context of the many layers of human consciousness.  "This is not poetry." -  Jack A. Withers Smote

the and

osteo mentation ,griminal

inmintation’s sugary shirt

it’s where yr “shshoe” ‘s

debrides a coin a coff a

cabalgata de intonsos de

los sin piel los inde

dictos carrying the tongues

in bloody pockets )your

wheezing collar((

napkins ,and a swallowed dirt

narilonganiza

- for Aaron Flores & Geof Huth

Un cadavre de cendre

qui s'imbibe de sang

)Pierre Reverdy( el ayer me

espera con su voz de

moho con su ANT HEM

frames my shirt's song my

shirt's turning and tossing

in muddy wind trop

d'ombre renversée )P.R.(

VERSO VS OSREV y me

como la salchicha de mi brazo

DRINK YOUR LEG wrote l'encre

...résine sans coleur )P.R.( PIS

SIP your red stream con

traction arcs over the curb

the plate is g round the

face a storm the

forking screeches d

rawn across a knife

Je me suis évadé des lignes...

- Pierre Reverdy

ear

bhomb hamb

gumantic

blood and leg

numbonic

mouth nor voice

account

blister clime ,mort ar al

negck invades yr mute

numbers all of splat

tore it off the book

able sensed it m

umbling in a clos et cr

ime and voice intend at

least of further gasoline

before a match

corp orate grins ,and toil et brims

wash up

issue itching ...muddy mouth

YOUR BOILING LEG a

floodsome bolus hocked

to the floor yr occulunit

tumboliente )distant greasy

dust( )I played the grunt

beside yr fork( misty

switching of your thighs

air left back

of ambient time or

drift habituation your

EGG EXPLODES an

uttered neck

troubles in the laundry

chains of time

brim flat cloud

user meat

rains the side

walk tale of

slaw and worms

tale of teeth

or silty wind

malade

mud and nuts / ah hammer

g ate a seaslug fog's

water FASTER THIN yr

y ear scrawls in ,la

semilla biologique j am

med deep in yr nose .un

tie the hose yr fork im

pales before a HINGE

sleeps beneath a ladder b

arcs and b arks ,fed

the fango en famille's E

GGS C RACKED in

yr shshorts ,w ashed at once

His nuts on his neck.

- Blaster Al Ackerman

ojo de agua

strabismic in a sleeping alphabet

tus fosilturos )futosiles – Juan A. Italiano(

futilesco ablo en un floflofloespejojojo

lo que veo con el WAK y su cola

de dardo cloud-sampler )Ivan Argüelles(

I was sitting on the bed mumbled and

ssaw, my daughter holding a box of sand

….▄....

mucu

plumbid

your facial hole

a

a ccloud

vent de merde

shorn meats a strangled door

Grave des mots avec un clou

)Th. Gautier( ce n'est rien mais

quelque chose condensed rechewed

ébranlé sourdement ha dicho ,clos

et crammed with socks your

negck reblooded ,steaks on phone

dripping said yr NOM RAUQUE

spat screen un libro vacío o

blanco de escuchpitazos anhelados

where a dog wind swirls teething

the knob's “sit on a distant lake”

your statue burns on the shore

your statue splits its head your

statue drowns in its shoe ≈ ≈ ≈

hairless and birdshat FEUILLE

OUBLIÉE ¿de quién es la

cara que escribo? ¿de quién son las

ascuas que tomo con mi café espresso?

leaf or shirt wword or tturd

the future shines

grinding ,every thin slug

smeared across yr fogged

lens' wet smoke ,embolism

shutting down the state or

time of breathless heaving

in the sprawling dark don't

look outside ,glands of

flame choking in your voice

its hushed its viscous de-ex

planation it's your plunger

trying to break the clog

.ccloggg ,a mind a noose

descendant corporation wh

ere the sky once shone

...reeping à travers the cereb, ante,

bellum in long columns vapor-filled...

- Olchar E. Lindsann

5 smoke

a wall severed by a hair

a shopping cart pissed in the teeth

a ladder wearing yesterday's pants

a vacuum on trial in the vomit

a statue face up in the ashtray

JMB after Ivan Argüelles after JMB

die t

shit and spin ,knob rel

axed yr voice halation

feast of sand yr spinal

shoulder hefts .no thing

lreft in here drink an

grin mind's yr fplace be

hind a reeking wall of

milk and turds

nariguante

      -con un abrazo para Aaron Flores

la tonada que olvidé “...y dicen

hay un arcoiris en mi garganta...”

)Roberto Net Carlo( slaw in pro

ductivity's hair your gristled for

k drowned ,stem cells ,ammunition

,wave the sweaty mist through ,cum

ple crumple con tu leg recuerdo

,upper fog and drain “rains des

bullets doll” )Olchar E. Lindsann(

yr rancid trump lost el arco

iris que olvidé me comí la

mano descarada ,claw in imm

utability's chair )pee your

shoes fills( nose nose nose yr

naipes ,hands sweat in the g

loves burning as the flood comes in

hand it

grim grin

or g love

eloh

drift and dry

acrid hole

moss reshod

lovely dot

shadow hole

drifting eye

knot leafage

sloshing hole

drawn my tongue

reflet du ciel

roofless she a float con

densed fileuse/mot fondant

)Paul Éluard( SAID A NECK

redoubled at a keyboard

Rien cette chair fait de

peu )P.E.( la calavera “nada”

me piensa me pesa me pis

a h bootless she my dirty

wheel was warped and shit

,her long yarn sp ins

melts your sounded shirt

)doubles in the fog( 's it

chy shout dries yr sil

enced encía depronounced

deentombed she or you was

none was spoke beneath the

smoke's descension

Aux yeux nourris de son miroir

- Paul Éluard

fall down

en gina

sh APE

bul EM ia

re BOL ve

i I s S m M

your forking tongue

chew the snake your coat

inhales ah twisted horn your

mouth unveils the blinding

comb or scissored cheek a

check against what time re

turns your first dead word

at last the end rethrives and

woofs stone ape wood cloud

your shoulder snaps your sm

oldered lunch BURNS THE

HORIZON where yr shoe

thins in evening breeze

la salida

lamento el túnel que me

devuelve un túnel lleno de libros

under my shirt a boat returns

spills its pages a greasy

shore it's what you read it's

what you never read crawling

laundry past the windows ou

les nuages ,n'importe ,it's a

green mist red streaked ,teléfono

sin auricular ,piedra o ham

burgüesa ,peldaño invisible

en el fondo del agua ,aguas

de risa al revés the entry

whistles and moans

N'AURA EU LIEU

- Stéphane Mallarmé

reverse

insect dust

hills shaken

number time

glass saliva

cigarette

useless rock

theory sand

vowel slime

dancing script

solitude

never ex

ists disssolves

mmmouth ttangled

moon's basalt

ether's thgil

heat slumber

ant resin

ttelephone

cloud emblem

alphabet 's

alt grass sleep

history

hot fireflies

hemorrhage

Found in Ivan Argüelles'

“My Sphinx” 

urinescent

Encore un cauchemar

je suis nu dans un chambre

toute la famille est là )Ben Vautier(

My swollen shorts a nest of

paperclips slip down my leg's

tongued air heaves out the

window en la garganta un

moscardón que habla por

mí ablo la entana sin V

er ror que guardo en la

cajita under your bed MUM

BLED IN GRUNT SLEEP

pleines d'ombre et de nids

)José-María de Heredia( ah

damp sheet spread be

neath your back ! the base

ment floods ,L'inutile miroir...

)Heredia( into my face your

faces fall...