The Poet In Swampy Areas

 

***

The Poet in swampy areas

(insufficient source text to continue

only a new course of tin)

desiring a poem change

- that is the desire for illness and the moment before -

murmurs: The word is not my heart. It never was.

 

Traversing the land of good stories

I’ve found a miniature city for my heart

The word can go to gods when little buildings inside my ribcage fell apart

Old age never fails to surprise.

Be it known to the world that I’m the greatest detester of Literature.

 

In come the Giant lizard rustling: All is Art, all is an art of allying: I see and pain;

within my part of sorrow

I pant and paint, rant and a haphazard train of thought enter the picture

without constrain or remonstration.

 

Here you can change a word, there a wording

But nothing can be rewritten as a rule. It’s too late every time I try.

Writing is a mother. The primary source for the dunces.

You cannot change a mother or can you, can?

A mouthful of hysterical giggles, a handful of coppers.

 

A number of silence’s original works

a few of which can be found in English.

 

Poems from some distance

              

No one should tell you

that these pages contain as well

laughing eyes and a loftier brother

who is searching for the obvious in my ear

but never whispers: All is so dreadfully second-rate.

 

Novelty of opening a laugh.

An eternal one.

2007 ?

Preview screening VII

++++++++ or Ne touchez pas la hache

I will do it, the young man said, but I will do it alone.

and began iting.

he had already acknowledged the existence of some of that idleness

that broached an unpleasant subject of itself too wide to conceal it.

sensing that the objectionable idiom was all that could be desired

in this mildly disagreeable situation

he even forgot to mind the gap between his front teeth.

as useful as literature

he watched and watched

the glue waves slapping against the somewhat mixed entertainment

of an hour and a half spent wisely

all the time our travelers passed axe, exercise and relaxation.

to guide the galleys through the blueprint of the would-be world rule

does not necessarily mean

rest or amusement. it can be a hatchet.

six lively infants in the bank

six sickly infants in the bunk

six suckling infants on the bank

six lovely infants on the brink, -

sang the sea of conceit.

Preview screening VI

L'INCONNUE DES VALSES

Your grave will buy us bread,

all kinds of pain,

as French is cheap

and Red is free.

I never could obtain

Its thanks in singing.

I ain’t a painter,

yet your grey is green,

your two are three.

My brain is swinging

as your river Seine

and lingering.

Your grave will eat its greed,

its greatness.

Unconscious of grief

you’ll smile and smile again,

yet water only grins

‘Good riddance’.

There’s nothing else to gain

In dance, in gratitude,

but tide and algae.

Its density, you, dunce,

have never understood,

not once.

Preview screening V

SELECTED POETRY OF THE DINING ROOM
bound in dusty plush and gilded silence
Every piece of furniture was indeed
vaguely aware that it was something dead
and might be just posing as something quite dead
and so it did
as it has been so well understood
by the waxing moon itself.
Each cupboard shelf to be cherished
Each chair declaring ‘My life and glosses are welcomed’
tried to make sense out of good fortune
they stood in a circle rounding the square table
being acquired as a set
they knew each other to be rivals
but could they be friends
in such a fraud
when the minute hands of the popular imagination were needed
for nearly photographic resurrection?

Preview screening IV

STARLIGHT DOUBLE-DELIGHT TRIPLE LAYER CAKE

What a title for a film!

Bottom Layer ingredients in case
you have an hour and a half to give away for all of their respective lives:
3 egg yolks, well bitten
2 tablespoons butter
1 ½ cup sugar to beat 2/3 cup bitterness
1 mother of pearl button
6 tablespoons cornstarch for the gentleman-in-question’s collar
1 ½ cup boiling water
1 teaspoon of zest, optional

Let us pass over the Second Layer, but don’t forget
2 packages instant recognition.
Some people forget it only too quickly.

And for the top:
1 powdered nose
8 ounces sour soul, softened
16 ounces whipped night cream.

Preview screening III

This black’n’grey production
dealing with murder and interpreting particular personal relationships
has no trace of poetry
all just decent dead people
suspecting one another and their existence in dubious grammar
The characters are (in order of appearance):
G.-D., a poet,
distrusting her alphabet in colours of so many indecisions
The Second Bearer of grief
Pallbearer
Polar bear

Trivia: The absence of the First Bearer of grief was originally discussed by the crew while filming ‘Onto death’ (1996).
A polar bear was wounded while filming. Later the scene was cut from the film; this decision was attributed to protests from animal rights groups.

Goofs: Continuity: After being wounded in a fight with The Second Bearer of grief, Polar bear is carried on a stretcher. First, his left paw is bleeding, then his right one.

Quotes: The Second Bearer of grief: pull down a god
G.-D.: pull down to suppose
there is no one to pull down.

Preview screening II

The very cinema getting the Annual Award – not
pretentious muck
mirroring the skies
that had no more than a star
and a starlet for their credit –
but the most veritable stuff of which drums are made.
Far from the inevitable defects of Editor’s Art,
Far from the limitations of tinned manure it starts.
Travelling two years later from there on to the answer
for a woman and a word
on the expense of his fate.
Ultimately, she reconciles with a slice of him
from a slice of whom we, the viewers, are attempting
to get out all of June.
The Seedless Watermelon with a femme, we named them.
From there on, and against his will, a single location
and a simple frame
became his lot.

Preview screening I

Choose between the love stories of salt
and after that become the inhabitants of a tomato juice castle
which is visible
under the pregnant siege
of Bloody Mary,
the sheltered daughter of falls and eye whites,
the heiress to a bootblack shine.
Johnny is a witness, a guardian angel and a cube of ice.
This movie was inspired by the two.
And as the marriage is entirely made of tomato juice stains
the two attempt to leave the evening
by the courtesy of snow,
but keep away from the upper country.
Every year gives the marriage another try.
Spills out all of the snow and effective drama.
It is white.
And they are you.