DANGER: ALLISTIC POETS EMPHASIZE MEMORIZATION AS THE ONLY WAY TO PERFORM
by Lucas Scheelk
I envy those capable of memorization
I envy the masters unrolling words off their tongues
Words fly away from me if I cannot see them on the page
They don’t fly like Icarus racing towards self-destruction
My words fly like Captain Martin Crieff landing a plane on one engine,
Desperate to keep control in the face of DANGER
[People = DANGER, overbearing light = DANGER, audience clapping = DANGER, audience
snapping their fingers = DANGER, bass music = DANGER, fear of my body flying away with
my words = DANGER]
I envy those without involuntary pause
I envy the masters unrolling words off their tongues
My written words are more solid than my verbal speech,
Which, in comparison, slows, slurs, pauses, stutters, confuses,
Endorses pity, races, and creates a disconnection with the audience
Words fly away from me if I cannot see them on the page
I must always see the words, from start to finish, to
Have visual confirmation that my words won’t fly away
And be replaced with new words, strange words,
Words that could be mistaken for someone else’s,
Words that could be mistaken for an Allistic poet’s
I envy those who socialize without a script
I envy the masters unrolling words off their tongues
Words fly away from me if I cannot see them on the page
And it took me months to auditorily process Cabin Pressure
And it took me months to remember plotlines from Cabin Pressure
And it took me months to echolalate Cabin Pressure
And it took me months to script Cabin Pressure
My reading, grounding, my words from the page is like
My scripting, socializing, with you using Cabin Pressure
Both take preparation and DANGER, and it
Doesn’t make me any less of a performer
Tag: Issue Nine Lucas Scheelk
THE AUSKETEERS, Lucas Scheelk
THE AUSKETEERS
by Lucas Scheelk
Ah, I got a joke!
Like, it’d actually be offensive if YOU told it, but I can tell it.
An autistic spoken word artist, an autistic poet, and an autistic musician walk into a bar.
Code Name: FLUFFY, the spoken word artist – Looks you in the eye, laughs mischievously, and
stares you down until you hand over the uselessness that is your ego and hypermasculinity.
Pajamas and plaid kind of queer. Denim vests underneath black jackets kind of queer. White
skin, green thumb, with a golden heart and a grey soul kind of queer. Wields the Power of
Sustainability.
Code Name: LUCASIMO, the poet – Chants TRAINS in monotone for shits and giggles, in
between long periods of uncomfortable silence and highly specific media references, with a lack
of patience for those not in sync. Aggressive white twink. Questioning gender specifics.
Understands cats more than humans. Wields the Power of Tenacity.
Code Name: JOS-PEH, the musician – Singing voice as seasoned as the eyebrow makeup.
Twink. Korean. Most believe they can access the musician, know the musician’s thoughts, and
capture the musician’s heart, but most never hear the laughs, see the hand flaps, smell the foods
made, or converse with while creating outrageous characters. 99% never see the fury. Wields the
Power of Credibility.
They make the AUTSKETEERS.
The Autsketeers walk into a bar – Armored with Adderall-infused 4-hour get-out-of-executive-
functioning-hell free cards, vodka straight Monday afternoon pick-me-ups, self-rolled cigarettes,
energy drinks, and weed, the Autsketeers convince themselves that under such conditions,
socializing in public can be achievable.
Wait, I didn’t catch that.
The punchline? What?
OH! Sorry! I got distracted by the idea of Autistic Musketeers! They’d travel on the lightrail to
get to the bar, you know, because TRAINS. They’d battle puzzle pieces and STEM stereotypes
because, well...
Yeah, you’re right.
I guess I need to work on my humor.
HOLMES’ USBS (II), Lucas Scheelk
Holmes’ USBs
by Lucas Scheelk
“What do you call a bee that lives in America? A USB.” - @BakerStBabes [Twitter: 15 Feb 16 – 1:55PM]
Honest-to-God, it was the strangest item Watson saw at 221B Baker Street. Holmes,
On the other hand, did not hesitate to grab one of the flying objects from atop the skull,
Lay it under a microscope, and examine it. Holmes smiled, with a small laugh, “The
Material is of advanced plastic. The outer layer protects the inner layer, sliding with
Ease. What surprises me most about this, Watson, is the pattern on it. Perfect bee
Stripes. How peculiar. Its scent is not from any local plastic manufacturer. This
Unusual contraption might be American.” “But Holmes,” Watson replied, “Even you
Surely can’t assume that. I know your fascination with the States, and its criminals,
But this! It might as well be alien! Holmes, have you, before today, ever
Seen such a thing in the nineteenth century?” Holmes sighed. “I have not, Watson.”
SHERLOCK’S USBS (I), Lucas Scheelk
by Lucas Scheelk
“What do you call a bee that lives in America? A USB.” – @BakerStBabes [Twitter: 15 Feb 16 – 1:55PM]
Inspired by CBS Elementary
Smiling, Joan asked, “Since when do we have the bees roam outside the
Hive?” Sherlock hadn’t noticed when she returned. His eyes were fixated on the
Evidence board above the fireplace. Sherlock scrunched his face, and
Rolled his left wrist, which broke his concentration. Sherlock
Looked up to see a dozen bee printed USBs flying above. “Prank
Of yours, Watson?” Sherlock asked, slightly annoyed. “We are on a
Case. I would think that our little contest would be on a truce.” “Oh, so
Kind of like how you began our ‘contest’ without telling me?” Joan pressed a
Switch on a remote not-so-hidden behind her back. The dozen
USB bees flew downward, causing Sherlock to duck and slide around in his
Socks. “I get the point, Watson! Next time, we shall state explicit
Boundaries and talk through pranking rules like proper gentlefolk!”
Satisfied, Joan turned it off. The USB bees fell. “Alfredo makes the best toys.”