Writing ID Work Writing Bio
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Rockets and Robots: Engineering Without Understanding

Precious Delirium

Dispatches From the Arid Regions

Raging & Witnessing in the Hills of Sulfur

Loft of Dreams

As If Apes Would Hurl

My Story About the Chance Conference

Precious DeliriumAmazon Paperback | Free eBook Previous | Next
During the early 1980s, using the pseudonym Max Klein, Max Carmichael was an active participant in a thriving underground arts scene in San Francisco and Los Angeles, and founder and director of the Terra Incognita art space and band in San Francisco. It was a time of epic drama, darkness and light, comedy and tragedy.

This book has been painstakingly designed by Max and printed by Gorham, a small family-owned press in Centralia, Washington.

"The Bridge"

Soft hair blows on the handlebars of her
        bicycle.
Her finger is taped and a little dried
        blood spots the gauze.
I hand her my sandwich which she
        bites with her endless mouth.
The bridge is a rainbow. We have lost
        the road and now she loses the river
        for me. I take off my shirt.
Mosquitos make me hurry. The bicycles
        fall in a coil of thorns and spring
        quietly to sleep. I give her my
        money and then I am off, the green
        water surprising me like snakes.

"Photocopying"

Photocopying long and late
The light flashing like the top of an
        ambulance
Photocopying as if her life depended on
        it

From "Chicago Transit"

        The foreman dropped his lunch. "I’m all plugged up with emotion," he cried. You could hear white-hot slugs hitting the water somewhere in the dark. It was eerie. Soon steam filled the air, naked bodies of running men with masks, long crystals of gypsum . . . High above, the Nest swung slowly back and forth, within it two ruby-glowing eyes. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, it didn’t matter.
         "What’s the bite, Fred?" one of the wipers turned from his tub. Inside the grinding-worms writhed and bubbled angrily.
        The foreman scratched his crotch. He began to cry. "Nothing," he muttered. A plastic dog fell out of his jacket. "Glows in the dark," whispered the wiper’s assistant.

Copyright © 1981-1983, 2011 Timothy V Ludington

Precious Delirium

Paperback, 168 pages, first printing 01/10/11
The Office of Max Carmichael

"Klein's exploration offers a multi-clad landscape of hope, love, torment, and piercing honesty. It extends a tightrope between optimism and devastation, sometimes lighthearted, sometimes woebegone. All in all, it bravely encapsulates the human experience of searching. I recommend it as great way-station reading.

Jason Sexton

All contents Copyright © 2010-2014 Max Carmichael