PORK COLLEGE (a) “poetry” “magazine”
volume 1 issue 1
edited by Chalice Oâ€™Ladzer and Neil Sausageburg
copyfight 2012 Oxford, OH
PORK COLLEGE vol. 1 issue 1
Table of Contents:
p. 4 : poetry by Migosh, Knave of Budapest p. 9 : poetry by Magdalena Anderson p. 13 : poetry by Jon Amaruq p. 17 : poetry by Courtney Stodden p. 21 : poetry by Matthew Bonzo p. 23 : poetry by Anonymous p. 26 : poetry by Shane Larkin p. 27 : poetry by Rose Withers p. 29 : poetry by Claude Howard p. 31 : poetry by Many Others p. 32 : poetry by Braxton Dorfman p. 33 : artwork by Gerry Manders
Migosh, Knave of Budapest from “To Her Sweet Crown” I. High nonny nonny! High nonny nonny! I unsheathe my sword to skewer a bonny. I aim my blade so straight, so true. I thrust and thrust and run her through. High nonny nonny! High nonny hey! Your swordsman, my lady, Shall pierce thee today.
II. What say you noble governor? Art thou inclined to share Your vessel with a knave like me? She’s in such grand repair. What say you take the stern, sir And I shall take the aft. And together we shall row her, Row her ‘til she’s daft.
III. Once in summer did I lay Her crown upon my head. Twice in autumn did I lay My butter on her bread. 4
Thrice in winter did I lay Her petals scarlet red Upon my lap distinctly where Her sister’s rose had tread. IV. Rub adub dub. Three men in a tub And all of their beards sweetly glistening. Such naughty knaves. Aye! None behaves. They all could use a christening. You, dear sir, I christen Kit. You, Ben. And other, John. But you my lady, come away: My scepter you’re christened upon.
V. Dear, lady. Though your night is dark And rainy, rainy wet, My vow to thee is dear to me And I shall not forget. I’ll stick my candle in your dark And thrust it in your night. I’ll leave my candle there for you Until you burn as bright.
VI. They say that Vulcan’s bellows Make great wind in the forge. They say a mountain storm Blows greater in the gorge. They say God’s wind is greatest Where an ocean tempest’s spun. But my lady’s wind breaks greatest When her supper plate is done.
VII. Methinks thou dost protest too much My saucy little tart. I prithee, do not writhe so much But let me claim thy heart. Let my heartstrings bind thee To bedpost or to chair. Do let me in, let us begin My saucy lady fair.
VIII. For you my lady, I would search So far beyond the world: Tangled forests, dampened caves, Deep seas to find your pearl. I’d roll it ‘tween my fingers
And kiss it with my lips. For you my lady, I would brave One thousand of these trips.
IX. Do not mistake me, lady. Though sweetly I may speak, I shall love thee fiercely, Upon my mountain peak: My golden showers soak thee, My foul winds do break Upon thy cherub face, my love While love we fiercely make.
X. When all the world is weary, The dusk sun hanging low, When I am to retire, Chamber-bound I go. Lonely minds do wander; Mine shall follow where you led. In nightgown, I shall think of you And rub my dreamy head.
XI. High nonny nonny! High nonny nonny! Happiest birthday my lady, my bonny. Alas, these songs were all I wrote. I pray Iâ€™ve tickled with each note. But high nonny nonny! Show me know sorrow! Your swordsman, my lady, Shall pierce thee tomorrow.
From â€œLandscapes of the American West â€œ by Magdalena Anderson Slow Dance Their romantic era resembled a turntable. Courage distorted a derogatory jazz. A matrimonial camera burned a clause into immoral plaster. A beginner, she sang under the modeled needle. Outright inertia mothered a spoof, an obstructed lecture abiding, a witty gulf mastered a lower intolerance. Each spigot essayed opposite intercourse, a loophole breathing beneath the skin. The accused slid near her mate, complaints migratory. The edges spit a problem beneath rushed lovers, agony speculating beneath an improbable coat. Wood substitutes injected an arrogance against his suitable theft. Inevitable muck decays within every documentary why. When can some aggressive agent push her banner? Pressure longs for decay after her minimal skin strikes. Behind such algebraic thought raves a forced track. His presence interests fear across her desert hardware. A feat clashes with his future divorce. The stuck worm exits.
Recipe fruit towers a vegetable liaison cabbage revolts designer milk coffee plagues a killing behavior a lemon heaps machinery cake awaits a manpower working potatoes shift underneath next to a textual blank pie exists a chicken solos beside hard tea jam the cabinet with questionnaires jelly uses passing terminology an onion ministers nasty gossip a hardship forwards its pork a chocolate beast curry protects a golden fume outside a throat
Down at the Strip-mall Joy sockets each overflow above financial combat. The factory indents every overlooked shutdown. A compelled salary hosts the skin within an ambiguous apology, the bankrupt age of bucks. My occupied accountant rants, a consent riots hideous rattling wealth resides the fined substance. The atomic trade dies. A company listens within the unconscious. Consequence counts below a reflex! How does the circle joke throughout a controversial capital? Under the picked opposite bolts the informal lifestyle. Does a component treasure scratch the mimic waste? A comparison spins beside risk. A catalog bores inside the clinical civilian. A capital autumn changes around an intrinsic north. When can the copyright pay the trend? Another tobacco faces his inverse past an initial consumer.
Mi Abuela The medium sings a disappointing sister, rockets underneath a dread trek, incants your pathetic directive. Her hard craft exposes dashed symbolic rectangular affecting flowers. She treads an esoteric prison, refracts within.
Caribou Kill by Jon Amaruq
To find the herd You must travel further Than before, carry provisions, tents. The herds are pushing awayâ€Ś
Still, the hunt supplies many families. Caribou remains a staple, The heads sit outside homes, stain snow, Antlers velveted and branched.
A sign in the post office Warns against meat wastage. You must adhere to harvesting rules. If you kill caribou you must eat it all or share.
On the drive into Tuktoyaktuk Over frozen ocean road I saw a clothes line hung with caribou skins And pants made from polar bear pelt.
The back stoop of another house Is covered with dozens of antlers Awaiting the carver.
In the Land of Round Birds
The birds are circles, puffed for cold.
I spotted five plump grouse in a tree by Boot Lake Trail, Each one the size of a football. Thought the thin branches would break.
On chill mornings snow buntings line the rooftops, Tiny beaks, eyes, speck from white down.
When the land warms, grey whiskey jacks appear in shrubs, Attempt to steal picnics, While dozens of mosquitoes tap my jacket hood like rain.
I wait for the migrating ducks, The northern pintail seeking food in the grasses With its cobalt beak.
Beware. Foxes are leaving light footprints everywhere.
Inuvik, Northwest Territories
Early January and the sun is back. It has been about 30 days since we saw it. The town celebrates with fireworks.
On days when the sun is not visible, Solar glow replaces it, dust pink at the horizon.
Inuvik is within minutes of the arctic tree line. There is no gradual change: one hill is covered, the next, barren.
Bear warning signs posted at Boot Lake. Two grizzlies and a black bear shot by rangers this week. Threats to the town, the town’s dump.
Inuvik has three stuffed polar bears, One at the library, airport, and restaurant. The last one wears mitts. Patrons steal claws.
Something you don’t see every day– A black Lab trying to gnaw a moose bone On the side of Mackenzie street, no other meat around.
Wasting meat is illegal in Inuvik. Otherwise people hunt antlers alone.
Some of the dogs have ice blue eyes.
A house caught fire. It was -35. Firefighters had to struggle with frozen pipes. The dry climate makes buildings prone to fire.
There’s ice fog in the mornings. Weather service says -40 Celsius. Every building sends a column into the air, exhaling.
The town has one traffic light– A yellow blinker only active during peak hours.
If you walk outside of town, There are moments of complete silence– All you hear are birds, trees.
You get to feel the empty space, The land’s minimalism.
From “Diary” by Courtney Stodden January 17th: Flaunting very flirty flight attendant attire tonight -- Are you ready to fly first-class? January 21st: While hardcore hits dominate my every move - I suddenly strip - & jump on top of a sexy sports car as I begin to wash it uncontrollably! January 23rd: Smoothly shooting whipped cream into the erotic air and watching it as it lustfully lands on all the right places of my candy-coated body... January 24th: Daringly dipped in nothing but translucent stockings as the heat of the fire stimulates a very sultry fantasy of mine... Save a sweet pets life now. Visit:http://www.laanimalservices.com/index.htm or call: 1-888-452-7381 - They are in need & we can help them. January 25th: Feeling fine & fresh as I fervently find myself tidying up tonight in a flirty french-maid outfit. Do you need anything polished? Meow! Boldly baring my bust & buns as I break out of these clothes & into my bronzed birthday-suit for a very bad & bawdy night. XOs. January 26th: Blithely bundling up on the balcony beneath the beautiful stars as the scrumptious scent of the BBQ begins to arouse my sparked appetite :) January 28th: Amorously hanging around the house tonight in a mens milky tshirt as it delicately drapes off of my exposed physique ;) muah! January 30th: Dressed up today like a little erotic rocker as I prepare to sinuously step into a day that's filled with nothing but compelling creation... January 31st: Getting hot and humid as I hold back my hair with my hands & hustle my heated hips hastily; I heart hula-hooping! :) February 2nd: Feeling like a midnight mermaid as I immerse my mere mysteriousness into a misty moon-kissed mouth --meow. Honey is a 2 year old female chihuahua mix & is in need of a loving home. For more info on Honey call: 888-452-7381
Toby is an 11yr old male kitty who wants nothing more than to be showered with love. Call: 888-452-7381 for more info. February 3rd: Who has the sexiest Super Bowl Sunday football Friday floor flash? Will RT my favorite! February 4th: My appetite becomes anxiously aroused as I vivaciously cook a very sexy veggie supper while wearing Victoria's Secret --muah February 6th: Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalms 37:4 Flaunting a flirty fantasy this Monday night as I coaxingly kiss the mister that I fancy most. XOs,muah! February 7th: 'WET'Â February 8th: Getting ready for a mysteriously melodious meeting w/my marvelous & mesmerizing men... meow! February 9th: Valentine's discount pet adoption days: 'My Furry Valentine' happening this weekend: February 10th: Who's ready for Friday Floor Flash?! Show me yours: will RT my fave! MUAH! February 11th: RIP Whitney Houston - What a beautiful lady. My heart & prayers go out to her loved ones. February 13th: Lust begins to set deeply in as the delicious day of love draws delicately near -- XOs,MUAH! February 14th: Feelin like a velvety Valentines vixen as I strip off my clothes to dip myself in a bowl of creamy & delicious dark cherry chocolate! SWEET! February 15th: Say hello to Simmon! He is a 10yr old male neutered cat who is currently searching for a home. For info: 1.888.452.7381 Dina is a 2 year old female Lhasa Apso mix. She is sweet, active and is looking for a new love! For info: 888.452.7381 Another nippy morning in LA! Think I'll warm up a little by tossing this towel from my body and stepping into the shower... 18
February 16th: Mmm... had such a beautiful evening out. Now it's time to slip into a lingerie & step inside of a land that's filled w/sweet dreams... muah! Hosting a secretive sexy surprise birthday bash for one of my favorite boys tonight. Think I might give him a spanking! February 17th: It's that time again to get down & dirty with Friday Floor Flash! I will RT my favorite(s)... XOs. February 19th: Simply spending Saturday studying so many sensual subjects Shhh! "To love God is the greatest of virtues; to be loved by God is the greatest of blessings". Happy Sunday! XOs Rilly rockin' my retro blue baby - meow! February 23rd: It's so hot here in Hollywood - think I'll spend the rest of my morning skinny dipping... XOs. February 26th: Have a beautiful Sunday everyone - Proverbs 10:12 Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses. February 27th: Feelin' fine in my fishnets ;) February 28th: Spending my morning baking soft cinnamon rolls for a sweet breakfast surprise in nothing but bitty boy-shorts -- muah :) Feeling the rhythm of my brand new sultry single as it rocks my body - soon to be released! February 29th: Randy really wants to go home with you! He is a 4yr old male chihuahua mix who is very spicy! Contact: 888-452-7381 March 1st: Hangin' out @ a diner in the back of a classic aqua convertible lickin' an ice cream cone in a baby blue bikini and pinup heels -Happy days! March 4th: Had such an unbelievably sweet evening out tonight. Now it's time to unwind, unleash & undress - meow! Happiness exudes external beauty -- Proverbs 15:13 "A happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit".
March 6th: Thanks Mr Monday for a hot night! Think I'm about ready to strip off all of my clothes while heading to the bedroom - Sweet dreams everyone. March 7th: Taking my 2 precious puppies for their mid-morning walk in a midriff & daisy dukes -- muah xxx March 8th: Feeling sweet 'n sexy as I step out - I'm ready to radiantly run my errands! MUAH XOs March 9th: Who's your Thursday night heartthrob? Mine's John Stamos! Meow ;) Poeple arr sayen I dont no how too spel,,, I theenk I no how to spel my owwn naam!!! Sea I no... Corteny Stoden... Meyow ;) Im a gud speler! March 10th: Spending this sweet Saturday morning sunbathing topless on the beach... that sexy sand gets everywhere! Lounging around the house in a tiny towel (hair dripping onto my body) as I launch into lotioning up my legs. I just love an evening shower! March 12th: Hope that everyone enjoyed their Sunday! God Bless you, XOs Courtney. Luke 6:31 "Do to others as you would have them do to you". I find it so sexy when you dance seductively close with someone and your skin touches. What do you say is sexy? March 13th: Decisions decisions can be delicious! Debating which one I should wear... Blue boy-short? Cherry cheeky? Black bikini? See through thong? :) March 14th: Rapturously running my erotic errands with my hot husband! MEOW ;) March 16th: Heating this bitingly brisk morning up by spending it in a itsy bitsy baby blue Brazilian string bikini & beaming seven inch stilettos. XOs Lusciously lying on top of these shiny silk sheets as I search for a secretive sense of satisfaction. Who is your Thursday night heartthrob?! Mine isÂ @JohnStamosÂ - meow!
Formal By Matthew Bonzo
I’d like to think that we are all truth seekers, all of us; that we seek what’s true or what we know to be. I’d like to think that you know You are a truth seeker, understanding you see what we can’t won’t choose not to and you give talks that begin with phrases that make us ancient Greece would have killed for your wisdom. At least Plato. Talk to me about form. The form in my head and the truth we see in the world floats above you, void. Noiseless but you still tap your finger on the wood. One two. One one one. Two. Both. Seeing suggests stimulation, difficult though hiding exposes opportunity and you can hide without being sought after implies you were lost to begin with.
Pipe Organ If there was ever a permissible disbelief â€“ Some of you they will kill. You shall take no bribe; everything in this whole wild world is a warning from Job. To those with holy success: the work of the wisdom of God and a bribe blinds the clear-sighted and subverts the cause of those who are in the right â€“ Let fear drive out fear; They disbelieved for joy
Several Short Poems by Anonymous
People hurt time heals money buys love steals
In me I have day and night light and dark without contrast I would turn blind
He sees her like a vision Steals her like a jewel Lulls her like a baby Unwraps her like a chocolate He uses her like a sheet breaks her like a twig Buries her like a bone
Flying Pig Marathon by Shane Larkin
Cinergy Field, I’ll remember you bittersweetly, since how unequivocally distant, to spite my mitt, every one of my dad’s foul balls landed in the stands behind my shallow-deep first base seat, me smelling smells now forever encoded into my own then-fleeting youth and indeterminacy, my own lack of post-Freudian rational capacity, now watching Cinergy Field/ Riverfront Stadium implode in a messily circular fashion. I have never been back to Cinergy Field, nope! It’s long gone, blown inside, its guts splayed to bits by explosive TNT dynamite emitting dying waves of sound and songs still ringing in my head: “Reds Take NL Pennant!” and “Oakland Can’t Touch Rijo, 1-0.” Boom! Goes the dynamite! And that’s all, folks!
Rack by Rose Withers pulled lbs to the Right repeat I am the expert pig best reheat the id cook, now cooked add additive, is to frozen ways this declaration porks its Rights re: relief understanding Paté o toothless one . o aging pate too farrow-matt what’s to pretend to love even to get even with to barbecue the diffèrance To source with sauce To satisfy low sows To suck 27
olympic pork out-porking town difficult difficult to pork low pork pork young pulled yum to finish in a dog adminstrate can can to thought cooked system poled program well-defined hunk pulled pooled systems pullet pc where cork meets pork Investment production Even EVERYONE EVERYONE EVERYONE EVERYONE
2 Poems by Claude Howard Bedroom Get me a bucket so I may pour a moat around my bed. Don’t come in -- the door is on fire and no you can’t douse it. There is a bell attached with string to the knob. It’s never sang.
Sky Here is where the sky is bluest, the grass uncut, the brick red and alive. Here is where I believe in something bigger, something sky-worthy -- bluer than anything. I remember lying on the grass and wondering which clouds would disappear first. I remember helicopters cutting them against that blue cutting-board -- space a kitchen counter. Where is that house I grew up in? I think maybe a helicopter crashed into it.
“Untitled” by Many Others kitchen first lot sticky patch one task completed that’s not going sex got shit so named another fucking disorder licker I would have gotten changed for her mix happier twirl tho retriever decided decided who said fuck work I’m going off my garland left first let text revolver closet fancy want hand golden gets left where a potter through the that moans I'm I am golden so nancy than michael
can hold you fabric almost feathers by Braxton Dorfman
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Several Collages by Gerry Manders
The editors would like to thank our contributors, the morgue, McDonaldâ€™s, Old Navy, Miami Universityâ€™s floral department, and Dana Ward.