Saturday, July 18, 2009

Caligula's More Savory Side

ordinator mobilisation: if trial fail,
collapse secondary inspiracle; wyrd-coda-modus.

For if the trial become an expansive metaphor,
let also fitness run with the pack;
let also love, abomination, drunkeness.

O let this horde of glorious projectiles hurdle onward..


If there be a bird in space, let this bird bee an amoeba
of graceless grace, of graceful gracelessness.

Let this gray < mobilize the trial~
which runs in the pack with the crucible,
the meteor, the lava gazelle ghost,
the xenon wave distortion vehicle,
the polymorphous swerve error city:


Let the Princess
not see her false reflection
in the mirrored zombie mattress.

Let not Narcissus see the candle head
exstinguished in the lake of fire.

Let not the flower, sense the sun genital's
only barely sensory motives, as if some motif
could frighten the cold heavy center
where the absence of a heart
was another replicating leaf in torment's
tuba solo.

Let not the replication of the education
of little Myra become the faded banderole
of the watchers in the mist
whose space birds were just now docking
at saloon 7G.

If Saloon 7G is crowded, let not Mario
make a strange hand gesture to the Lion headed
bouncer, whose suit of flubber is not standard
Federation Issue.

Let not the Federation
breed larger vaginas
upon the tribble.

Let not the tribble prostitution racket
discourage the youthful sextoy inventors
of Regula 9.

If Mario goes on trial, let him wear a large hoop
of brass keys so that many people in the jury
will think he is a kind of janitor, and not
a saloon bouncer.

If the Seasons become applied to the stages of life,
let the stages become Circuses of Strippers,
of simply


Let much day-tripping begin.
Let much sock-burning begin.

Let a personal metaphor fall out unexplained
and go unnoticed before the Last Klingon

Fat Woman

the svelte slow missile

of someone's satin slipper.

Let any hovering signifier signify

our hovering,
and our covering.

There is something very strange
printed on these sheets, Dear, dear Coagula.

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