The Word 'Monstre' Appears 11 times in the Collected Works of Chaucer.

the beatitudes of copying

also project

a thin black skeleton key tree shadow 

whose indexical phallynx

summons no simple irony

but a multitude 

for the gnarstyx'd pluromatongue

is a hordespace

and though we contemplate it lovingly

and lilt ourselves languidly in streams of soft petallings

the burning solar rose is hung in a black iron coppice

whose hacking litany of vortle

chuffs no only glad roundurance 

as Nachtschitzeus said

Be Fortful

and multiply the framings

and found a bliss, a bliss-surd of ceremonial doorways

down and back into the throes

of lost plazas

of mythical reading

a scrim before the hot machinery of love

to harvest the genius

of its radiant

and white hot stamen

fate's chthonic punetym

become all consumthing

yesmage

uniformlessly bewildering

the open sky

conceiling

engravelatours

leavened by graven

banderoles

whose masque

is the greening

single

pense bête

for though I walk

through the valley of antennae

I shall fear no telephone

and hair no diatribe

my Pan

and my snake

do confront me

and my scrybus fang

will haunt

the paper of the whordethicket

forever

my hard black ebony eyes

rolling freely

loosed from a punctual heading

and all things shall be brought together

a soft bodice

cupped in a black lightning

of wild cold magma

in song

an heroic pinprick

sanguid round 

a blind koine

O Knossos!

When frail Garamanteans

arrived in tunnels

your Minotaur has so declared:

all totality springs from supplementarity,

all grace confined

lo, my calembour

is a drawing,

a sucking at the fount

of your wound,

my displacement

perhaps

the 'one that stands by you'

is a camouflage

for empty shelves,

a poim of Stella

to the MERRKFEST

of apple vey

consider the statutes of the feel

do they not sleep as stones

in the bowels of buddha's foot

does not a cold nimbus of dreaming coinages

awaken all combination

to mutilate the dance

let mother heal

her token's 

garden

goiter

for the where the lamprey

candles

the hand must hold

a cup

whose haecceity

deus hex

wills adam

a descent in turns

to even

the plug

or the scrim

or the feel

4014, 4414, 4404, Rue Eggsilly

there is a weirdly homogenous substance, baby

there is a weirdly homogenous substance, sugar

None of my models can correct or guess!

In the long winter

my own stupefying nudity

has become your clothing,

now will you play

Handel's Sarabande

again, my dear,

and this time,

with a little more

'groovitas'

no sense

in chattering wrongly

when it takes away

no one's rights

The subject much loin to recognize

that his unconscious is his history,

a golden eleven-vater monster,

bugs bunny teeth

but Oedipedagogy

needs my

socratiser

and so ends the treatise

leaving each moment

in its own all deforming

and performative

punctum

the subject as the quill

of the objective

departure

the triple muse

as ascendant

as writ mine auctour called Lollius