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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
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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
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