Zombie Logic

Dennis Gulling is both an Outsider and Outlaw Poet. A resident of Rockford, Illinois, famously America’s 3rd most dangerous city, it is no surprise Gulling is an expert chronicler of true crime and noir poetry. His poems take a deadpan perspective of the awful decisions and bad behavior of a litany of characters just begging to be made an example of. The police blotter in America isn’t often amusing, but the poetry of Dennis Gulling is. However, the poems are not indictments of the people he observes. there is no condescension or judgement, simply unflinching storytelling by an expert observer of the human condition. 

BOBBY & FRANCINE Bobby cut x marks In his arm With a razor blade To make Francine wet Loved those little Squeals she’d make Watching blood chase blade Through sliced skin When he was through He took long drags On his cigarette And laughed While she licked Dark red candy Off his arm

Watercolor of Rockford by Jenny Mathews of Tiny Drawings

DONNA Donna the waitress At the High Top Showed me the tooth she found Under a bar stool At the Edgewater Tap After Mike Jaffney Shot Willy French in the face For knifing his brother It’s clean and white now she said I rubbed all the blood off Making wishes That never came true

SHE She kept Packing towels Over the hole in his belly But the bleeding Wouldn’t stop He wasn’t even moaning anymore When his breathing got Softer and softer And the blood Stopped coming out She picked the gun up From the corner where she threw it Turned off the tv And went dancing

WANT She boils in his blood Is a cut Somewhere deep inside him That never heals Just tears open A little wider With every breath he takes He has dreams about her Where he wakes up On all fours Stark naked and sweating If you ask him about her He won’t lie Won’t pretend he doesn’t care He’ll say he loves her More than anyone On this earth And would do anything To have her back And if you ask him What anything means He’ll just give you This small sad smile That could mean a million things And you just know He’s driving without headlights Down some dead end Street of desire The sweet fever of her kiss His only destination

Interview With Outsider Poet Thomas L. Vaultonburg

Our editor Dr. Millard Rausch interviewed Outsider Poet Thomas L. Vaultonburg, who is also the publisher of Zombie Logic Press.

Dr. Rausch: How do you define Outsider Poetry?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: I don’t.

Dr. Rausch: Then how do you know it when you see it as editor of one of the most significant Outsider poetry publications, Zombie Logic Review?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: I don’t, really. I don’t know what oxygen looks like, either, but I rarely suffocate.

Dr. Millard Rausch: But seriously, the term Outsider, when applied to anything: music, art, poetry, politics, emanates an air of differentiating oneself from an orthodoxy, or not having a choice in being excluded from that orthodoxy. Do you agree?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: Sure. You’re the expert, but I see a lot of quite successful and entrenched practitioners in those art forms claiming Outsider status while simultaneously feeding at the trough of the orthodoxy, as you call it. In all seriousness, what it shows us is that to a certain extent we all feel like Outsiders, but in the more narrow definition I think we’re both talking about here, being an Outsider is less of a matter of self-identification, and more a matter of how culture, and society as a whole defines one, or tries to define one. Typically I take the phrase Outsider when applied to art, especially poetry, as pertaining to someone with mental illness, a lack of formal training, or creating in a very non-traditional or eccentric way, but not being self-conscious of that.

Dr. Millard Rausch: Seems like a big tent. But historically we haven’t seen many literary reviews, presses, or scholarly works dedicated to Outsider poetry.

Thomas L. Vaultonburg:  Well, I think a significant number of poets were always creating within the parameters of what we’d call Outsider poetry, there just wasn’t much of a community to identify with.

Dr. Millard Rausch: And now there is?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: No, not really. By definition, it’s difficult to establish any sort of community of people who are outsiders. I find that most of the poets I publish at Zombie Logic Review would qualify as outsiders, but aren’t necessarily comfortable being defined that way.

Dr. Millard Rausch: Because they shy away from thinking of themselves as mentally ill?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: Absolutely. The stigma is still very strong in American culture. I think people are attracted to the broader title outsider because almost all of us feel marginalized, and most of us have some sort of private battle we are fighting against this faceless oppressor, but when we get down to the narrower definition people actually don’t identify with that very much.

Dr. Millard Rausch: When did you find out about your mental illness, and what is your diagnosis? How has this influenced you as a writer and as an editor?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: I actually found out what my diagnosis was by accident. The psychologist left the door open when he was referring with the psychiatrist for a prescription, because it was standard issue to diagnose everyone with depression and get them on the Prozac at that time, but he referred to me as “A schizoid kid.” I had seen that term on the boxes of horror movies, and like most people confused it with Schizophrenia, when in reality it is a personality disorder. I probably would be diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum nowadays.

As far as how this influenced my writing, I’d have to say I was always an observer of humanity, not a participant. I found it amusing, and bemusing, but I never felt like a human being. I find human behavior interesting, but I’ve never felt compelled to join in.

Dr. Millard Rausch: Do you think the explosion in diagnosis of autism will be significant in the way humans communicate with each other?

Thomas L. Vaultonburg: I’m not entirely convinced we didn’t always have this many individuals suffering from autism in society, and it’s a wonder how they managed to get along in the past. Sort of re-assuring in a way, but also sad. I do think the way we communicate with each other has been permanently altered, and will continue to evolve in a more compassionate and humane way. No more cookie cutter primers or Procrustean text books and one-size-fits-all guides for raising children who fit in and are well-adapted.

Dr. Millard Rausch: What are some of your goals with Zombie Logic Press?