*`!THE HOLD!`*
Issue 9 (Fanfare)      October 27, 1998

Hear ye! Hear ye! There's a new columnist on the block. She be Cait Collins, poet extraordinaire, and her's promises to be quite interesting. I mean, the name of it is Smell Me. Also, I'm thinking of changing my name to Daev. It looks more exotic than Dave.

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Copyright 1998 by Shadow Wall Press. All Rights Reserved.
Published Wheneverwefeelikeit by Shadow Wall Press

Contributors:
Dave Gitomer
Scott C. Dragoo
Caitlain Collins
Hilary Kerner

Columnists:
Dolomite
Cait Collins


BEDTIME STORY


Hello, friends. I am giving up on Gainor Aikens as of this minute, so if any of you want him, give me an email and he's yours. First come, first serve. Just be sure and send me what you write about him so's i can print it here. Of course, if no one wants him, then he's died a quick, clean death. Dave


THE FORUM
The place where all your small press email extremely local publishing dreams come true.

 
Mist

why can't we be friends
in the mist of the fog
when I see you and nothing else
together alone
on a busy highway
cluttered and desperate for sight
we stand calm on the center line
and wait for cars to hit
looking deep in each others eyes
fear of nothing else
but what the other thinks
noises echo everywhere
but like a dream seem none too real
out of sight out of reality
can't we leave and continue on
in this way together forever
or are we destined to soon forget
and this past moment fading
like a desperate call to eternity

Copyright 1998 by Scott C. Dragoo

------------------------------

**in the spotlight**

I found out
he shot jizm
out his bedroom
window
while
I jerked-off
atop the trampoline
underneath
the starry skies
on hot summer
nights
and his wife was old
terribly shriveled up
all over
her once
beautiful body
after three years
afflicted with Lyme
Disease
and she'd come visit
and complain about
how he
never repaired
anything around
the house
believing he
was starving
her to a slow death
locking food inside
his dead mother's
bedroom
the same way
he'd lock himself
in the room
they once shared.
and I'd prepare
lunch for her
then dinner
then a late night
snack
and tolerate
all of
her feeble
questions
then I’d walk her
home next door
at bedtime.
two days later
she'd be back
for another one
of those visits
now this has been
going on for 3 years
every other day
since she's been
plagued with
that damndable disease only
thing
for the past year
she'd come over
and continually
talk about how
he finally
replaced the bulb
in the backyard
spotlight…
over tea.

cait collins 10.17.98

**all right, let me tell you about Natasha...****

if you ever visited
the Pub
on a Friday night
Natasha would be there
leaning an elbow
against the bar counter
her hand moving
the glass around
in small circles
the ice mixin' the drink for her
and she held her cigarette
with a brass plated holder,
never actually
taking a puff.

she'd climb up into the
dance cage
holding onto
the poles
in front of her
her thin body and
long straight
black hair
swinging through
the smoky
air
one man then two
would join her
all grinding
their lower parts
together
to the beat of some
funky music
she'd turn her head
their way
laughing, singing
and batting her long
imitation eyelashes
at them
and they'd
grab each side
of her waist
pressing harder
up and down
all moving together
'til her dress was up
to the top of her
thighs

when she tired of
all this
she'd point them
outta the cage
took them by
their sweaty arms
walked them
over to the bar and sat
between
the two

meanwhile
the regulars
sat at their tables
snickering, whispering
amongst each other
what a dick tease
Nastasha was

they'd supply her
drinks for
the entire evening
the three laughing
together
the two thinking
they were going to
get it on with her
and then when I
arrived
Natasha was ready
for me
and we left
together.

cait collins 10.18.98

------------------------------

Blackness
Like a closet I was locked into when I was little
"Mommy"
tears on tear stained cheeks
save me
Who will save me now?
To old to cry
To young to change fear into unknowing
To tired to care much anymore

"Can I have your stereo and cd player?"
Friends are wonderful
Vultures with eager eyes and knowledge on your inner most secrets
Dammit, why can't I be something other than human
Why can't I learn to keep my mouth shut
loose emotions completely
find peace in myself
realize it's better to fuck it all and leave

"When life knocks you down get back up and kick it's ass"

"The blow that shatters glass strengthens steel"
The only one who could make me believe now gone
"Promise You'll try, promise me or I won't go"
So many promises
So many worries
So many days left to see

Maybe

Lay in sunlight
Run naked across a beach
Drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and play chess
Just live

Blackness
Like a closet locked
Me inside
Trying to break free
Stuck forever
Teased with the little light streaking through the cracks
Ha Ha Ha
Funny
Laugh
Wish I could
The words can be written
The sounds left only in memory
Shit happens suck it up and drive on

Hilary Kerner

------------------------------

FEATURE
Dave Gitomer

TEENAGE LOVE THE CONCLUSION – part 3

PROMISES KEPT, WAS IT LOVE?

promises kept in deepest night,
she said she would, we were older
now, I knew she would. alone, in
my bedroom, I wondered, abruptly
doubted. but...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
the tap, on the window, I knew, she
knew. circling round the house to the
front, sneaking in like mist, the
tension crackled cause...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
we tiptoed to my room, not waking
my parents, but at this point did
we care? we had to, it was a must,
fate ruled with...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
expecting the ultimate, lacking
emotion, her jeans hit the floor,
black panties showed. we were
unprepared yet...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
under the covers, the sounds,
the grunts, the groans, nary
a kiss, it was raw, it was
slashing. we made...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
the action was heated and rapid,
again, we twisted under the covers,
it was no longer love, it was not
even lust just...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
nary a kiss, not word, dawn came.
the sun rose. she dressed, and
exited. we may even said goodbye.
we lived through...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.
later I heard the rumors,
later I heard the stories,
I never verified or checked,
all didn't we keep...
a promise is a promise,
but deed has consequence.

Dave Gitomer


THE PADDED ROOM
I'm gonna fly planes when I grow up. Big ones, with pretty feathers.

----------------------------------------------------------

RANTING

     Please, a notice to all. When you get out of the bathroom, please zip up your fucking fly. We, the average people on this mudball, do not ask for much. Wash regularly, brush your teeth regularly, and make sure that you have your fly zipped up. No one wants to see your little prick giving the one eye salute to every passerby. Females, this does not directly apply to you, but keep it in mind just as well. Now that that is off my chest, let the true bitching begin. The topic for this week: perversion on the Internet. Ironic, isn't it? Anyways, I believe that there are too much-perverted things on the Internet. For those of you that truly know me, you are probably wondering, "Dolomite, what the fuck!?! The perversity of the World Wide Web is the thing that made you get it. You love it, especially the celebrity nudes." Well, I must say that those are entertaining, but in truth there is too much porn on the Internet. I mean, after a while it all becomes the same thing, unless you actually decide to pay for some of these services. But who wants to do that. Now you may be thinking that the ole Dolomeister is just a big pervert with too much "time" on his hands. The truth is... well the truth is not needed. The point is... so what?

     We have all had the occasional perverted idea or thought. It may have been that kid that sits next to you at school, that cute guy that works at the local Country Fair, your cousin, or your neighbor's dog. What ever it is, heterosexual, homosexual, or other, it is perfectly natural, except for those damn priests and their little alter boy obsession. Makes me proud to be a pagan. Now what does this have to do with the Internet? How the fuck am I supposed to know? All I know is that it relies on the honor system to find most porn and there are a lot of horny twelve year olds just starting to do nothing but masturbate, and we are feeding them plenty to entice them into having only one buff arm and one scrawny one. And we got Bill for President. Does this not teach us anything of family values? I almost miss the Reagan Years, almost.

     Well that's all for now. Until next time, make sure that your fly is up dammit!!! It's just common decency people! And remember, when Dolomite says that he can't stand up just yet; take his word for it. Just let me sit dammit!

Dolomite


Smell ME

by: cait collins

foreplay:

FYI: activity with myself was taken into consideration while writing this nonsense. thanx in advance for taking the time. the aforementioned title should say it all, one way or another, for instance:

     Michelle would call again and the hysterics through the phone this time was like a pipe bomb blasting in my ear and it was 1 a.m. and I had gone to bed for the third time. I finally realized sleep was useless. I put the phone on the bed as I slipped out, grabbed a long t-shirt with some crazy writing on the front that was flung atop the dresser, pulled it over my head, stopped at my waist as I headed for the bathroom. I sat on the hopper peein' as she cussed and cried at my pretty bed linens. I thought her havoc could only mean one of two things: either she was fighting with that ass hole ex-husband again, who did absolutely nothing with his life except write about how everyone he knew messed his up, and he was constantly jacking off into the hole in a vacuum cleaner bag and hiding it between the mattress and box spring and when she went to wash sheets, she'd find a half dozen used vacuum cleaner bags all stinky and crusty and she would start vomiting all over the already dirty bed things. this was the second husband that disgusted her, the first had a pretty face and turned to a drag queen life and before that she shacked up with I think 3 or 4 men for short periods of time OR she was having a disagreement with Carole, her female lover that often spent weekends with her.

      27 years old; she was slim, petite, full of energy, spirit and tolerability to a certain point. a scrungie held her long sleek mousy brown hair back into a low pony tail that fell to the middle of her back and you could see about a dozen hoops and studs lined up orderly along each earlobe. her tiny nipples were always hard and protruded out of the almost see-through half-tops she'd wear. the only thing huge on her were those deep brown eyes that if you looked into them, you'd want to dive into those pools of chocolate, swimming nowhere endlessly into her delight. those little cut-offs wedged in her crotch made her a sexy little bitch. no shit! she even turned me on!

     Michelle had no luck with men lovers though. in the four years I've known her, I'd swear to Christ she must've been stoned when she got involved with those morons and she was the type to jump into a relationship quickly. about a year and a half ago though, she made it perfectly clear that she was totally through with men, so she turned to lesbianism for love.

     I finished in the bathroom and smoothed my t-shirt down to mid-thigh before I picked the phone up off the bed. she was still cursing utter nonsense to nobody. and I shouted into the phone: "Yo! Michelle!" she finally stopped. "I'll be right over, dam't." I hung up before she started again. and I drove there in my t-shirt and barefeet.

     when I arrived at her apartment, I used the key she gave me long ago. I unlocked and opened the door. I called her name as I walked in and she didn't answer. every god damn light was off and as I passed through the living room, I stubbed the little toe of my left foot on the bottom of the recliner and I shouted again; bent over hoppin' about rubbin' and rubbin' the sore spot: "MICHELLE, YOU LITTLE WENCH, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" again she didn't answer. I moved toward her bedroom where the door was opened a crack and a dim light peered out. I pushed it open and there was Michelle huggin' about a half dozen pillows; layin' there, asleep with nothin' but a thong shoved up the crack of her ass……….

to be con't
cait collins


FROM THE DESK OF DAVE

     Well, i must say that i'm disappointed in you. It's been 9 issues so far, and i've yet to see any of the mountains of cash I expected when i started this thing. For shame.
     Also, i hope you've checked out West Side CDs. There's a new cd there from Eerie Records called Horror House. It's a compilation of local bands doing Halloween songs. Check out Josh's band FYI on it, doing a song they call "Danny is a psycho". Red rum. Red rum! REDRUM!!!

Dave


GRAFFITI

What do i have to say to get you people pissed off? Uh...I'm sleeping with your pets. All of them. That's right, even the goldfish. Try sticking your cock in a goldfish. Now THAT will wake you up in the morning. Write to me, dammit!!

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UPCOMING ISSUE - October is over, and November begins. Doesn't sound too exciting, but...well, it isn't that exciting, really.


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