Monday, November 30, 2009
Addio, Carlo Ponti
Kali is not aware, of the latest
teen fashion tucked in muckalucks
but
hunter
and
victim
still hold the cupped hands
our only most chic
and total suchness holds
perhaps quaintly rustic
sobriety.
toulouse.
sojourn.
felicity.
musica.
alexander.
rodchenko.
It's about all we can say.
It's about that.
The untranslatable this.
The crime is its.
divine unending love.
I am mooing alone in the field,
the one spiteful bird still pecking
the tented hips
of my dessicated elvis.
The princess sleeping fine.
really well.
And I can't get over the fact
that I find your approach incorrect.
Yes, I know you are successful, but
it's demonstrably because of an error,
a long chain of errors in fact.
It's ridiculous, but then
nobody's made the film yet, oh
maybe something close.
I conflate things.
Word Worm Ali Meant To Tary
Ling Hair Long In The Whole Pen
Mood
the mechanical is drawing doom out
like a tape
to be its dirt fed grandmother again
burying knots in the earth
to loosen the wart
Word
Worm
Warm
Wart
Ward
Weird
Wired
Wear
Ware
Warred
Wary.
Worry.
World.
Wand.
Wad.
Womb.
Things get attached
to other things, for
instance
if you were to watch
a Sophia Loren movie while
smelling your neighbor's
extremely stinky feet?
That is the total of the bill.
Dada Checks Out.
The next moment is a single word:
Inverse Sunda:
ᮃᮓ᮪ᮓᮤᮇ, ᮎᮛᮣᮧ ᮕᮧᮔ᮪ᮒᮤ
ᮊᮜᮤ ᮄᮞ᮪ ᮔᮧᮒ᮪ ᮃᮝᮛᮨ, ᮇᮖ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮜᮒᮨᮞ᮪ᮒ᮪
ᮒᮨᮈᮔ᮪ ᮖᮞ᮪ᮠᮤᮇᮔ᮪ ᮒᮥᮎ᮪ᮊᮨᮓ᮪ ᮄᮔ᮪ ᮙᮥᮎ᮪ᮊᮜᮥᮎ᮪ᮊ᮪ᮞ᮪
ᮘᮥᮒ᮪
ᮠᮥᮔ᮪ᮒᮨᮁ
ᮃᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪
ᮗᮤᮎ᮪ᮒᮤᮙ᮪
ᮞ᮪ᮒᮤᮜ᮪ᮜ᮪ ᮠᮧᮜ᮪ᮓ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮎᮥᮕ᮪ᮕᮨᮓ᮪ ᮠᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪ᮞ᮪
ᮇᮅᮁ ᮇᮔ᮪ᮜ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮙᮧᮞ᮪ᮒ᮪ ᮎ᮪ᮠᮤᮎ᮪
ᮃᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪ ᮒᮧᮒᮜ᮪ ᮞᮥᮎ᮪ᮂᮔᮨᮞ᮪ᮞ᮪ ᮠᮧᮜ᮪ᮓ᮪ᮞ᮪
ᮕᮨᮁᮠᮕ᮪ᮞ᮪ ᮋᮥᮃᮄᮔ᮪ᮒ᮪ᮜ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮛᮥᮞ᮪ᮒᮤᮎ᮪
ᮞᮧᮘᮢᮤᮈᮒ᮪ᮚ᮪.
ᮒᮧᮅᮜᮧᮅᮞᮨ.
ᮞᮧᮏᮧᮅᮁᮔ᮪.
ᮖᮨᮜᮤᮎᮤᮒ᮪ᮚ᮪.
ᮙᮥᮞᮤᮎ.
ᮃᮜᮨᮟᮔ᮪ᮓᮨᮁ.
ᮛᮧᮓ᮪ᮎ᮪ᮠᮨᮔ᮪ᮊᮧ.
ᮄᮒ᮪'ᮞ᮪ ᮃᮘᮧᮅᮒ᮪ ᮃᮜ᮪ᮜ᮪ ᮝᮨ ᮎᮔ᮪ ᮞᮚ᮪.
ᮄᮒ᮪'ᮞ᮪ ᮃᮘᮧᮅᮒ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮒ᮪.
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮅᮔ᮪ᮒᮢᮔ᮪ᮞᮣᮒᮘᮣᮨ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮤᮞ᮪.
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮎᮢᮤᮙᮨ ᮄᮞ᮪ ᮄᮒ᮪ᮞ᮪.
ᮓᮤᮗᮤᮔᮨ ᮅᮔᮨᮔ᮪ᮓᮤᮀ ᮜᮧᮗᮨ.
ᮄ ᮃᮙ᮪ ᮙᮧᮇᮄᮀ ᮃᮜᮧᮔᮨ ᮄᮔ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮖᮤᮈᮜ᮪ᮓ᮪,
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮇᮔᮨ ᮞ᮪ᮕᮤᮒᮨᮖᮥᮜ᮪ ᮘᮤᮁᮓ᮪ ᮞ᮪ᮒᮤᮜ᮪ᮜ᮪ ᮕᮨᮎ᮪ᮊᮤᮀ
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮒᮨᮔ᮪ᮒᮨᮓ᮪ ᮠᮤᮕ᮪ᮞ᮪
ᮇᮖ᮪ ᮙ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮓᮨᮞ᮪ᮞᮤᮎᮒᮨᮓ᮪ ᮈᮜ᮪ᮗᮤᮞ᮪.
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮕᮢᮤᮔ᮪ᮎᮨᮞ᮪ᮞ᮪ ᮞᮣᮨᮈᮕᮤᮀ ᮖᮤᮔᮨ.
ᮛᮨᮃᮜ᮪ᮜ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮝᮨᮜ᮪ᮜ᮪.
ᮃᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪ ᮄ ᮎᮔ᮪'ᮒ᮪ ᮌᮨᮒ᮪ ᮇᮗᮨᮁ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮖᮎ᮪ᮒ᮪
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮒ᮪ ᮄ ᮖᮤᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪ ᮚᮧᮅᮁ ᮃᮕ᮪ᮕᮢᮧᮃᮎ᮪ᮂ ᮄᮔ᮪ᮎᮧᮛᮢᮨᮎ᮪ᮒ᮪.
ᮚᮨᮞ᮪, ᮄ ᮊ᮪ᮔᮧᮝ᮪ ᮚᮧᮅ ᮃᮛᮨ ᮞᮥᮎ᮪ᮎᮨᮞ᮪ᮞ᮪ᮖᮥᮜ᮪, ᮘᮥᮒ᮪
ᮄᮒ᮪'ᮞ᮪ ᮓᮨᮙᮧᮔ᮪ᮞ᮪ᮒᮢᮘ᮪ᮜ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮘᮨᮎᮅᮞᮨ ᮇᮖ᮪ ᮃᮔ᮪ ᮈᮛᮢᮧᮁ,
ᮃ ᮜᮧᮀ ᮎ᮪ᮠᮄᮔ᮪ ᮇᮖ᮪ ᮈᮛᮢᮧᮁᮞ᮪ ᮄᮔ᮪ ᮖᮎ᮪ᮒ᮪.
ᮄᮒ᮪'ᮞ᮪ ᮛᮤᮓᮤᮎᮥᮜᮧᮅᮞ᮪, ᮘᮥᮒ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨᮔ᮪
ᮔᮧᮘᮧᮓ᮪ᮚ᮪'ᮞ᮪ ᮙᮓᮨ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮖᮤᮜ᮪ᮙ᮪ ᮚᮨᮒ᮪, ᮇᮂ
ᮙᮚ᮪ᮘᮨ ᮞᮧᮙᮨᮒ᮪ᮠᮤᮀ ᮎᮣᮧᮞᮨ.
ᮄ ᮎᮧᮔ᮪ᮖᮣᮒᮨ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮤᮀᮞ᮪.
ᮝᮧᮁᮓ᮪ ᮝᮧᮁᮙ᮪ ᮃᮜᮤ ᮙᮨᮃᮔ᮪ᮒ᮪ ᮒᮧ ᮒᮁᮚ᮪
ᮜᮤᮀ ᮠᮄᮁ ᮜᮧᮀ ᮄᮔ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮝ᮪ᮠᮧᮜᮨ ᮕᮨᮔ᮪
ᮙᮧᮇᮓ᮪
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮙᮨᮎ᮪ᮠᮔᮤᮎᮜ᮪ ᮄᮞ᮪ ᮓᮢᮝᮤᮀ ᮓᮧᮇᮙ᮪ ᮇᮅᮒ᮪
ᮜᮤᮊᮨ ᮃ ᮒᮕᮨ
ᮒᮧ ᮘᮨ ᮄᮒ᮪ᮞ᮪ ᮓᮤᮁᮒ᮪ ᮖᮨᮓ᮪ ᮌᮢᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪ᮙᮧᮒ᮪ᮠᮨᮁ ᮃᮌᮄᮔ᮪
ᮘᮥᮛᮡᮤᮀ ᮊ᮪ᮔᮧᮒ᮪ᮞ᮪ ᮄᮔ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮈᮃᮁᮒ᮪ᮠ᮪
ᮒᮧ ᮜᮧᮇᮞᮨᮔ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮝᮁᮒ᮪
ᮝᮧᮁᮓ᮪
ᮝᮧᮁᮙ᮪
ᮝᮁᮙ᮪
ᮝᮁᮒ᮪
ᮝᮁᮓ᮪
ᮝᮨᮄᮁᮓ᮪
ᮝᮤᮛᮨᮓ᮪
ᮝᮨᮃᮁ
ᮝᮛᮨ
ᮝᮛᮢᮨᮓ᮪
ᮝᮁᮚ᮪.
ᮝᮧᮁᮛ᮪ᮚ᮪.
ᮝᮧᮁᮜ᮪ᮓ᮪.
ᮝᮔ᮪ᮓ᮪.
ᮝᮓ᮪.
ᮝᮧᮙ᮪ᮘ᮪.
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮤᮀᮞ᮪ ᮌᮨᮒ᮪ ᮃᮒ᮪ᮒᮎ᮪ᮠᮨᮓ᮪
ᮒᮧ ᮇᮒ᮪ᮠᮨᮁ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮤᮀᮞ᮪, ᮖᮧᮁ
ᮄᮔ᮪ᮞ᮪ᮒᮔ᮪ᮎᮨ
ᮄᮖ᮪ ᮚᮧᮅ ᮝᮨᮛᮨ ᮒᮧ ᮝᮒ᮪ᮎ᮪ᮠ᮪
ᮃ ᮞᮧᮕ᮪ᮠᮤᮃ ᮜᮧᮛᮨᮔ᮪ ᮙᮧᮗᮤᮈ ᮝ᮪ᮠᮤᮜᮨ
ᮞ᮪ᮙᮨᮜᮣᮤᮀ ᮚᮧᮅᮁ ᮔᮨᮄᮌ᮪ᮂᮘᮧᮁ'ᮞ᮪
ᮈᮟ᮪ᮒᮢᮨᮙᮨᮜ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮞ᮪ᮒᮤᮔ᮪ᮊ᮪ᮚ᮪ ᮖᮨᮈᮒ᮪?
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮒ᮪ ᮄᮞ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮒᮧᮒᮜ᮪ ᮇᮖ᮪ ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮘᮤᮜ᮪ᮜ᮪.
ᮓᮓ ᮎ᮪ᮠᮨᮎ᮪ᮊ᮪ᮞ᮪ ᮇᮅᮒ᮪.
ᮒ᮪ᮠᮨ ᮔᮨᮟ᮪ᮒ᮪ ᮙᮧᮙᮨᮔ᮪ᮒ᮪ ᮄᮞ᮪ ᮃ ᮞᮤᮍᮣᮨ ᮝᮧᮁᮓ᮪:
katadanapawasa
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It's about all we can say.
ReplyDeleteIt's about that.
The untranslatable this.
The crime is its.
divine unending love.
I am mooing alone in the field,
the one spiteful bird still pecking
the tented hips
of my dessicated elvis.
The princess sleeping fine.
______
my dessicated elvis: DE FREAKING PROFUNDIS.
The Italian bucolic.
Lanny, this is a great poem.
I shall translate it into Latin, should I be blest to live so long.
(BTW Hath the princess a sleep secret? A clear conscience?)
naw, I just took the P out!
ReplyDeleteElvis.
Pelvis.
De Freaking Profundis!
is pretty cool!
I might have to try that one on!
Thank you so much!
For reading my stuff!
You know,
ReplyDeletePrincess
and the Pea?