Thursday, November 11, 2010

Some Odd Things We Saw on the Grand Duke's Flag

as low as I am
as lo I go forth
jerk it up Olson
Dick Moby Venice
of 1603, sad from
English and Bertony
and Thomas Sherley
surely they see
that the laurels themecellves
are laureates of pure eccentricity
electsyntrickcity would
oh heart i dream
On the same sea route
from Venice to Alexandria
as poor Olson was Venice
and Critics the Freebooters

Earth all a museum,
or a body
we touch

pen coral rudge
googe
smudge

intuitive intellection
is lively drawing sir
and your drypoint is well,
it's dry I think
dry at least
said water to a hiss

news lately for the novice
in English entertainment
of the Egyptian Book of the Dead
a spell to allow the soul
or ba or ka
or ba-ka-narr (jap fools)
to change into a snake

down unda
in the unda word

so easy to seize it
pure blather
but the conquest makes it sane
a net

Freebooters in Zante and Leghorn
Christopher Olororen and Nick Alvel
took live dogs and gems in germy honey
from the store hole of the Giopanditi
on its way from Smyrna

which we think looks like a spermy smear
hiding cotton inside a hollow iron jaw
how's that mister critic?

An iron jaw has two prongs
and both can be tied by string to a stick
or a club
and used like a swinging star to brain thee..
Call Me Ishmael, shit

Call me IS-MAIL
hiss mail

armor amor
label it however you like dear
Christian Science Monitor
that reads itself
like John Merrick in Spring Vans
cartoony rumple skulls
the irony about Klingons, again

Good Beer!
Hop it up!
how quaint the language becomes
when you go back just 13 seconds
among the little tie boys in their funny toy kingdoms

fashionable sword slashed jerkins
pre-designed
the news like klopfy beetle wonking
crawling over the abstract landscape
in an abstract landscape
bewilderment laid on bewilderment
or lame salt ruding up in the supposed fault
when that stag itself
that grace is one
in the graceless puppet's hole
well combed academic monkeys
or ratty clevers whatever

old soul
this moldy true
is like the hush of blood
as solemn sparkle

veins full of pirates
and Venice

The City of Venus
Medusa
in her innocence

her hotel of signs
her sensorium of senseless
cells

leasing the space
for a jolly
and there lavishing ourselves
on the endless textiles of the Balbiana
we had come from Crete
where Olson was the Minotaur
and every man woman and child
Pacified

fay

make it however you like
it's all bloody madness
and looks rather wild

some pirate got up
in royal finery
has shit herself
drunk on sulphur rum