Thursday, April 21, 2011

Vie You Pit A Coffer, Being Ronsard's Adventures With the Gin Drinkers

see the long horse its
faint cranium full of paper
styx, a piquant paper
cannot be heurazed,
its fruit or pallor,
its scorched habits

juniper for animism
and sebsi for the nymph
Ronsard, let bounding thighs
thunder a bouquet of smiles
in juniper i'll build
a nest of wooden telephones

and the pallor fruit of charon
shall burn with maroon chickens
in its veins

dong ego veiny
statue laid on side
it cannot be heurazed
its scorched habit
its totally odd gambit
Ronsard in checquered tricorne

rains test the flank
a blank mind stares silently
at Saint Cosme
the tree changes which
volume that Voynich selects
bath tub gin elects
for London
its whitest metaphor
en wahloo

wahloo kind
and wahloo good
wahloo leaf filles
and wahloo wood

View of Villa Mondragone from Tusculum
where the juniper berries lay in even twilight

o mandala of gorgeous thighs
oh radiant mouth to pupil eye

what whirlpool
has such whispers
for leaves?

what bathtub
would you please?

Seneca forms
the word Prague.

George Sand was guest
in the villa
where the juniper family washed
and found there a suitable yet maroon
atmosphere for the setting
of her novel La Daniella

oh your body so thin
your voice
a translation

Ronsard looks to elotic skurs
Ronsard sits wa'luguber
and spits by the fire

where the long horse
cares its minstrel
monstrel tubbing
troupe tribe pyramind

all these magnificent bodies
the piquant heresy of the page
Ronsard puts in a call to the

aburun pa, the
kusulu pa, the
chöd pa

the juniper scents
the demon brain
otez votre jeunesse

the sphinx unzips
its scented brain

drawing out green magnetic snowflakes
from the manuscript-landscape:

Attis turns into a poem,
afin qu'a tout jamais.