The 23rd Litany of Bugs Chakra

And when you know the reasons, call me
And when you find out why, drop me a line

In the beginning
Was the rock
And the rock cracked
And the crack was good
And the good got high
And the high was bad
And the bad looked ugly
And ugly was the Father
Which art not in Heaven

And when you know the reasons, call me
And when you find out why, drop me a line.

Spring 2006

Winter 2006

Autumn 2005

Summer 2005

Spring 2005

Autumn/Winter 2005

Summer 2004

Winter 2004

Summer 2003

Editor's Note


SNR's Writers


The Beach

Llandudno Beach.

Crystal rocks emulating the moon.
Anthropomorphic cirrus warriors transmutate
in the salty breath of Neptune’s toothless smiling mouth.
His gums are covered in a cooling layer of rabid foam.

I hear his tummy roaring from the depths.
Why is he hungry, I wonder?
Could it be for my soul?

A young man walks by carrying a book.
“What’s that book?”
The Beach.”
“But you’re on the beach.
Why do you have to read about it?”
“It’s better. Double whammy.”

He walks out onto the sea.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice that the waves have petrified.
The young man carries The Beach away from the beach and over the horizon.
A helicopter buzzes above me and down past my line of vision.
There is the sound of an explosion.
Brittle pieces of crystal rock and sea strafe my face,
whittling these cheeks away to the bone.
Beneath the surfaces of the shattered beach, rocks, and sea
is the trace of an earlier, erased surface;
itself the representation of a long-vanished text
about beaches, sea, sky, and rocks.
This is palimpsestic.

I close my eyes but there is no eyelid.
I am both the film upon which this image is impressed
and the image itself,
curling spatially
onto the patina
of my eyeballs.

The illusion of interior exterior is exposed.

It is clear now that the moon was always emulating these rocks
emulating the crystal beach
at Llandudno.

Aryan Kaganof is enigmatic in his description of his career: [He] “was born again in 2001. He drives a 1966 Valiant 200 Automatic and shoots Glock 19.”

Copyright 2006, Aryan Kaganof. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws.
It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.