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THE COMPLETE OURANG-OUTANG

De Villo Sloan

Copyright 2013 by MinXus-Lynxus

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cover remix 1986 edition

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cover - 1986 edition

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title page 1986 edition

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title page 1986 edition

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Introduction 2013 Edition


Ourang-Outang was originally a 24-page chapbook published in 1986 by Bomb Shelter Propaganda (Tempe, Arizona, USA}. This second and expanded edition, The Complete Ourang-Outang, includes scans of the 1986 edition and digital remixes. You will also find a large amount of material not included in the first edition but that was created in the spirit of the project. Some pieces appeared in the zines of the 1980s and 90s, a bibliographic history that is now, unfortunately, impossible to reconstruct with accuracy. At the time of this writing, I am gratified to see a renewed interest in the avant-garde work of the 1980s that circulated in the underground network. Texts are being re-discovered and reissued. The Complete Ourang-Outang is a humble contribution by MinXus-Lynxus (an unabashedly Post-Neo entity) to the larger effort to document and reconstruct that history, a task made all the more difficult because so many participants sought consciously to subvert the concepts of history, authorship, and culture itself. In 1986, I was living in Auburn, Alabama and an active participant in the burgeoning U.S.A. zine movement that, thanks to advances in photocopy technology, was opening new avenues for publishing and new venues for experimental writing, avant art, and (perhaps most important) visual and concrete poetry as well as asemic writing. The viral quality of the zines was made possible, no doubt, by their interconnection to the thriving mail-art network that evolved from Ray Johnsons New York Correspondance School and individuals involved in Fluxus.

Introduction 2013 Edition - 2

A close correspondent was Mike Miskowski who was publishing a zine called MaLLife and releasing titles for his Bomb Shelter Propaganda imprint. MaLLife served as a center for a specific group of writers and artists as well as a gateway to centers of action elsewhere: Jake Berry in Huntsville, Alabama, was another close associate in the MaLLife vortex. The innovation revealed in Miskowskis efforts and his enthusiastic support of my experiments inspired me to gather work I had done over the previous five years and send it to him for consideration as a chapbook. The introduction to the first edition mentions two kinds of writing gathered in Ourang-Outang. The hypnogogic poems are experiments with meta-language, which was evolving in the postmodern condition of the era: I had been working on them since circa 1983. Influences include the Black Mountain poets, especially Robert Creeley, and emerging L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poetry. The neo-concrete pieces were influenced by masters such as Karl Kempton, Emmett Williams, and Dick Higgins. Yet I was witnessing the development of a newer visual poetry. This included work by John M. Bennett and Miekal And as well as dirty concrete pieces in zines from France and Germany (Thierry Tillier in Belgium was an important contact early on) that were nonrepresentational and employed dense over-striking. An opportunity to work in the rare book collection at the State University of New York at Buffalo had allowed me to gain a gobal and historical view of concrete poetry as well. Mike Miskowski received a pile of conventional and concrete poems from me. At the time, I was unsure how it should be presented or if there was any relation between the two types I sent him. For me, the true achievement of Ourang-Outang is Mike Miskowskis editing and design. He created the alternating structure of text and concrete work and thus discovered in the disparate manuscript a visual-poetic cycle. It was also his idea

Introduction 2013 Edition - 3 to enlarge and crop the concrete pieces, which created a whole new perspective and, indeed, new poems. The Complete OurangOutang meticulously documents the first edition and enlarges Miskowskis design concept to include the new material. Digging into the past produces mixed emotions that range from joy to regret, a nagging, persistent thought that things once willfully forgotten should remain so. While the 1980s zine movement now appears as if it were a time of innovation and free expression, the experience of living through those times was far different for me. One should never ignore the anger, protest, and nihilism evident in the work hurled in the face of monolithic institutions that threatened to quash human selfactualization and created a climate where world annihilation was a viable option. Ourang-Outang is on one level another howl of protest from a marginalized outsider in a time of increasing political repression. The underground network that gave it life offered the hope of an alternative, participatory culture; yet involvement often seemed more an act of desperation. The situation remains much the same today, only more desperate. Against odds that seemed overwhelming, the Otherstream (as Bob Grumman named it) has expanded, evolved and has produced extraordinary innovations even breaking, at times, into the mainstream. I am thrilled to add The Complete Ourang-Outang to the record while celebrating the cultural impulse of which it is privileged to be a small part. As ever, we push forward as if our lives depended upon it.

- De Villo Sloan Auburn, New York, USA November 17, 2013

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page 8 1986 edition

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page 9 1986 edition

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page 12 1986 edition

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page 17 1986 edition

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page 18 1986 edition

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page 19 (by Kathryn Anderson)- 1986 edition

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page 20 1986 edition

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page 22 1986 edition

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back cover 1986 edition

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- 1986 edition

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Ourang-Outang/De Villo Sloan

OURANG-OUTANG

OUTTAKES

Ourang-Outang/De Villo Sloan

On Bastille Day
In purple passages the mescal makes sequences of fiction that strangle continuity.

I test the nerve gas on a crowd of philologists.

In paroxysms they saw fierce triplets of water lily estrous cycles step-sister bathing sausages in crimson.

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Revolution
Optical cosmogony laments the hard star whose name is change.

Jade muskrats in a schoolbook discarded on a dusty floor.

The itinerant votary stands by the ocean where a hand paints a false horizon.

He recites the wingless syllogism:

The moment of wildflowers is short. The moment of volition is short. The moment of revolution is long.

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Angel Dust
Natural gas settles on the gatekeepers mop. Rosewood odes are inscribed on fungus & snowdrifts.

The LYNX sounds like a valve commanding resistance to disunite the vagina from the pimp.

It all justifies the death sentence, finally.

Legions of supplicants channel barbarism into harmony. Pregnant skirts supervise cockfights & invest their rags in an amusement tax.

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Iodine Wrist
Queen Delirium picture fever sacrifice lay babu iodine sorcery body eel huge poison oyster willow lay crawl body sorcery queen iodine wrist delirium form huge oyster fever picture babu willow crawl form sacrifice eel poison wrist

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Bad Paper
A nosebleeds value is measured in perplexity. A crows value is measured in scarecrows. Pleasures value is measured in teaspoons. Immunitys value is measured in crutches. Fascisms value is measured in poor houses, but the value of the whippet is as measureless as jade halogens that in windrows form icicles of snuff.

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Enthymeme
An Italian sonnets ephemeral radio spectrum wraps a hogshead around Gothic arches. Photosensitive skin was nameless. The viaducts linear perspective is made imperfect by the poison pen. Filthy red mass tragedy.

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Marginality
My plasma. My undoing. My excrement. They default & are not ashamed. They make effigies of presidents & burn. Incomes. Resignation. Toucans osmose loathsome drawls. Slobber. Vision.

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The Object and the Act

He found that impersonalization has an accompanying diagnosis of alcoholism. Castration anxiety, weaning frustration & conflict over masturbation appear most often. The object is a pool table. The act is lying on top. He gets off watching. The object is a small mouth. The act is mutual masturbation & exposure.

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Again
Outpatients deviate from the neon sign when the dregs of consolation appear at the bottom of the Flemish teacup and splashes the bending degrees of November. I have often ridiculed taxation but not in the way you probably assume, more like footlights that hang a dream of process. It is my teacup. I will do with it what I want. It was in the afternoon and the neon sign flashed. It rained softly. The pavement outside seemed to inhale so many of these afternoons.

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A Solitary Chapter

Jocasta polishes the game wardens thing-a-ma-bob while the lemur screws the fox terrier. The hounds tooth pierces the mechanisms of betrothal. Do perspectives decay? Do connotations vaporize into witless impregnation? The answer is drunken celibacy. The question is nonsense.

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Change
As rust dreams of sexual generation so Veblen dreams a regular icosahedron with a face made of syllabic worm gears with a face made of cobalt blue with a face made of hydrometers slandering daybreak with plausible change.

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A Resolution to the Problem of Nutation


1. Charts of hardship rolling in forests. 2. Trioxide quilting. 3. Bourgeois phonotypes that contain a looking glass.

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Refrain
The careless tendrils of her insomnia weave these heedless sequences that lament the marooned, pregnant labia on an island of boredom where adultery is photocopied on stones.

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The Concept of the Page


The page footprints The concept reconstruction Together they form a symmetry of confusion. Apart, they make a perfect TRAP A thunderstorm A paragraph

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Ourang-Outang/De Villo Sloan

The Constellations

A harvest clavier plays the song of repression as glass liquefies the starlights silence into ennui. I drink deeply. Azure. Numbness in the guise of vibrant fancy. A cloak of drifting pleasure makes a diadem to wear.

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Common Sense
Insanity is caused by woodpeckers. A chorus of stupid cub scouts might sing of sales clerks. Methane slang wheezes fallout. The body is pornographic. Natural selection produces stepladders. A plague of impetigo was spread by onanism. Women have radar in their diaphragms. Levity trips on closure.

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The Prince of Beaver Falls


I dreamt of a lower class sensibility, a Celestial Empire howling fanatically at self-consciousness. They were not protean at all. And they were not theoretical.

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What I Know About It

I know it is a negation of Marlowe. I know it is an idioblast. I know it is muddleheaded. I know it is a guillotine waiting for crab lice. I know it is birth control. I know it is slabber. I know it is writing.

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Nocturne

That my words would be found That my property would be taken That law is a pencil That my reflection would be taken That I cannot even warn That I cannot visualize That I cannot complete That I cannot awaken

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Voyeur
Keyhole: Her amethyst strongbox lessens the void. All through the black afternoon her screens are awash with strawberry diminishment. Theory is a cycle on a mattress. He watches her watch the bikers and greasy commercials that show lipstick being applied to an unsmiling face. On her knickers pecan trees enslave women in their hardness. Inhale the scent of tight craving.

Ourang-Outang/De Villo Sloan

Inhale the ridicule. Inhale the travesty. Break down the door. Inseminate the bride. Then inhale the world. The parson was watching. He inquired about certain enzymes.

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Ourang-Outang/De Villo Sloan

Riddle of the Sphinx

In summer make motifs of golden rod: Crescents stitched across a

denuded landscape. What languor now hushes Our Lady of the Fountain?

In her disgrace she wears a veil of butterflies, singing all the time

The smoke trees crumble into lyrical galleys that carry prismatic blades

petulantly onward, petulantly into the Sea of Lost Time

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