A Note On Paul Scarron's General Fizzy Ignominy

a loosely homophonic translation of a few sections of St. John Perse's Anabasis
+ a stanza of Boileau's 1664 Art Poetique which commented unfashionably
on the once popular practice of 'word-portraiture', and of Paul Scarron's
own self-portrait in words. Scarron's Virgilian Travesty has been called his
most futile piece of work, and yet it made him the head of a writing school.
Nicolas Poussin violently disapproved of Scarron's Virgilian Travesty.




Scar-rune, alarmingly modern young mantis, a jet announces less temperate
dunes, grand fervor, and felicities in the foolish dance, snow songs~sewing quiet
savants lets our sources' suns erect a dangerous set of exiles, and saving sexy
savages lets sour seas know us, our dour hour's onto-ills are so-so quelling,
and mainly present, in the vine whose flanks are flame. A jet announces no
corporal embellishments of dun saliva (eating that feminine zesty cookie abets
a homey of dancy herbs, all so lovely, and met with orderly lines of sun corpses,
like crickets in vole, on our sun of blue ale.

Oh, my prissy dew bone, [you] (must now) sense this-any burlesque's
effrontery trumpets leaching you aboard this pluttery parsing nubile uttery.
My, the dicey style has enfinned this disembalanced heart much disabused
at Dodona's duodenum among the extravagant icy verses of trees, whose
leaves like distinguished naifs are also patterns of buffoons, whose
provincial lassoes admire the typhoon, whatever style jamming might soil
the vortive's outrage, Virgilian travesties chicken V. Hugo's Rome, lazy
Zeus, your zoo is sussed and loosey.

So quiet, you villain assailants dancing loosely, ageless, in the sun groin's
silent ass-surly haught (hot). considering these sable celebrities due for
juicier raids, foreign mice pleasure their feminine flanks in order to compose,
but ignore its repeatedly numinous illness of ninny points.

Let this old "G" announce a less temporary dune of grand colors, cholera
on parole tonight, suiting very well the Chinese envoy, whose main trait
pleasures itself on feminine flanks of flame. More danger enters the well-fitted
tent, an honorable lettuce of fruiting supported, by my loop, with fresh lotion
pouring like lava over the bashed bouquet of visionary sexes. Ennui in lieu
of ornery men is like a grand feminine nut of brew-haggis (ha! plus nocturnable
dance journeys!). Eating peat, like all Aussies, the moire' tiara of plastic suns
is the genius of our quelling suns' falcon of erect Italian women.

Soliton nudes! Dusty companies toil, passing bored, in the mountain
of the world's annexing water queasiness of astronomic domesticities.
Confederate King, you are many seals in a garrulous sermon of haughty
maidens, an established lure of bivouacking, and well-queued jails. Your
soul is erect as a soufflé nut, a parmesan prince of pamphlets, a ham chute
of bialy idylls aimlessly jointed with silent bitumen discovering morbid cousins
wrapped in argyle papers loosing their attentions' soused and mended sills,
where above in the nut domes, lacquered principles have been on guard.
OH! A quaint dog is trapped in the honey lounge with its sabre sleeves
pureeing newt pestilences into gem elevators, dancing always against my
activities, my Songha empires of savage fading odors of mating dew.