The novel is set in Old Amsterdam & New Amsterdam & the story of a wayward & wandering son & daughter is told from the daughter's point of view. The father is a DJ of some renown & the daughter enter Stuyvesant High School, only to discover that her father is less than astute in daily affairs involving gigs, payment for gigs, immigration & his relationship with their slumlord.
Formerly known as Confessions of a Beer Mystic has been excerpted in more than 50 zines, journals and e-zines. View: Beer Mystic's Last Day on the Planet. Called the "best novel never published" by the editors of Rant and Pink Pages. Graphic by Bob X, appeared in LCD excerpt of Beer Mystic.
“BEER MYSTIC excerpt 9: Summer Mid-Manhattan,” appeared in Summer Anthology, by Silver Birch Press, 2013.
Big Ideas Go Haywire
Big Ideas Sex Chapters in 1980 issue of punk zine-tabloid EAST VILLAGE EYE. A year before John Lennon was shot on Dec. 8, 1980, I wrote this novel about youth derailed, about a fan who eventually tries to shoot his idol, Jane Leen, Patti-Smith-like pop-punk singer. It was scheduled to be serialized in Leonard Abrams ground-breaking EAST VILLAGE EYE but we only made it to 3 excerpts...
Paris Sex Tete
Novel of amorous dérives, architecture, hangovers, displacement, aimless wandering and trouble in Paris, early 1990s. Excerpts in Work Literary Magazine, Parisiana, Scarlet Lettersand 3 AM Magazine. The novel is an extrapolation of the short story “A Year In A Daze In Pigalle” which appeared in Paramour 1994/6 and was excerpted in Batteries Not Included.
Ocean Groove, Ocean Grave
A novel about the small NJ resort town, Ocean Grove, known for its architecture and Methodist Camp Meetings. This is an underbelly non-postcard Lolita-in-Peyton-Place view of the town. Excerpted in Jack in 2002. Photo of the Phantom, author & Mags by Nancy Naglin.
When I heard K. was in a coma I did not believe they were talking about K.A.; it had to be K.B., the K.B. who hitchhiked and — we hear — even bleached her pubes blond.
I thought maybe coma was something like a mental flotation device; coma — a fleshy petal from a Japanese water lily. A metaphor for a vow of silence. As if K. had caved into herself, in exasperation, an appropriate escape from the way things were — and still are.
In my research to find out “where” she was I discovered that poets were maybe pointing in a better direction than doctors. In the 8 reference books and medical desk manuals I checked in the libraries, the entry for coma was on average 1/10 the length of that allotted to entries fulminating against alcohol and cigarette consumption.
For instance, Gaston Bachelard, the poet of intimate space, describes something like a coma as a poetic state with a conjectural geography: “In this ambiguous space, the mind has lost its geometrical homeland and the spirit is drifting.” Mahayana Buddhists — yes, I went all over — insist nothing has substance anyway, that all is fleeting including the concept of void (“personified” by coma, perhaps) which “only has meaning for an ego clinging to things.” And so maybe, by extension, a coma is a kind of “liberation from all obligations of dimensions.”
Or maybe the body floats hypnotically on dark water somewhere. In questo sacre mare, searching for the “reborn paradises of the forgotten sun.” We just have to find where and how far “beyond the solemn geographies of human limits” that somewhere is. Be it Atlantis, the collective unconscious where all the unformed material of human consciousness is stored, or private instants of inexplicable ecstasy or a subworld comprised of “this entire atmospheric essence” or “metarhythms,” (beyond detection) “hidden currents,” or currents below sea level, below consciousness, snugly hugging the contours of thought-becomes-territory.
I mean, I was willing to look anywhere for answers — libraries, medical talk shows, my past research with hallucinogens and out-of-body experience ... For instance, from my reading it seems that you guys could pinpoint some of these conjectures by using single photon emission tomography to monitor cerebral blood flow — significant blood flow occurs during hallucinatory periods. I mean, we might learn she is enjoying a rich imagistic cerebral cinema — that she has access to Mnemonica, the phosphene cinema of memory, listening to music in her head, the “voice of a multitude” in her temporal lobe where words are recognized and ultimately subsume “ego in the meaningful patterns in the noise” in the left anterior cingulate cortex, the region associated with emotions.
And naive me, I thought I could just go to intensive care, find that somewhere and then talk to her, talk her through it and out of it. Like yelling down a manhole to someone caught in a labyrinthine storm sewer underneath the city streets. Like getting in a bell tower and ringing the bells.
Not long ago I ran across this poem in an old magazine I had laying around. It is by Swedish poet, Peter Sandelin, who put my notions into these words: “... I handed over the problems / to the snowstorms, / to the silent trees, the invisible / gulls ...” As if thought had drifted outside the bioelectrical realms of neurotransmitters, the way a radio signal drifts in and out late at night or clouds drift out of the frame of the airplane’s window.
The Man Who Thought He Was The Man Who Loved Women
An unfinished NY novel of misshapen desire. Excerpt “Big Nouns, Unconjugated Verbs” appeared in Beet and in The Best American Erotica 1994. “The 63-Minute Egg” appeared in Beet. “Keypuss1: Anita Ekberg” appeared in Paramour in 1996. “Nina Hagen’s Meat Couture” appeared in 1998 in Fringecore. “Slim Inside Brancusi’s Kiss” was published in 1995 in Paramour. “Fellow-De-Se” and “The Man Who Thought” were published in Pink Pages.
Another Boy With Green Hair
A boy with green hair hitchhikes cross-country and encounters many strange sides of the human soul. Never completed. Maybe I will get back to this one day. Unfinished, never published.