portion of the artwork for A.E. Reiff's poetry

A.E. Reiff’s Comments

Thought Goattens are commentaries on the New Folk Sensorial Compound. Circumstances drive a dialectic to confront by absurdism these nations of commerce and religion, consciousness and art. We don’t need a scientific basis for theater. Proof surrounds narcosis, escapes are hard pressed, so if these headlines pop in the mouth to map the mind, a land where every bubble-visioned landscape measures what we do not know, interior Dantes of what we are, the new folk paradigms constellate, imaginate these beings. They are psyche profiles of a greater human knowledge self-reversed. Our travelers find a shaggy gent at the absolute center of Earth. They climb down to the waist, there is plenty of hair to hold on its sides—squeeze through a hole and come to the feet with their sin. You’d think they’d have had wheelbarrows, but like Sherpas they carry it in packs. These are the outcast thought goats, part salesmen, part dinosaur, part invention that A.E. Reiff writes, sometimes called analytically the Spirit of Wilderness or fancifully, Thought Beasts, Hybrid Beastiary, Uber Alter Nano Bot. The lists go on, “Travels to Byzantium,” “The Cure,” “Kung Fu Da Puta Alien,” the “Orcapoi,” “Sue Smooke,” all the way down to “The Dame of Guapa Pop” that appeared in an earlier FRiGG. These find themselves indexed here. Perhaps the coup de grace of Thought Goats is the current War on Neptune, if you can stand the ads, or its cousins, Opiomes: The Domes, or The Severed Head.


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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 38 | Fall 2012