Saying Myself As Most Like Mymrsatin The Wise, The Beautiful, Inguised.

After Piaget and Inhelder's
_The Psychology of the Child_

AB + BC = AC


The space between the forward icons
reveals the contour of the return.


In those days, to wit, in any translation,
or what passed as conversation among the
wirehead matadors of madugha, what we usually came
away with, was a pwermifol sense that the green
god or goddess had just shot, but that what
we got, was a handful of wriggling sticky
caterpillars whose mad dew so achingly
expressed madhu, as if the saddhu that
was word in the former centuries might
finally be a sexless and forgiveable smoke
snake wearing the odd hermetic chapeau,
the croolitia,

that faintly archaic form which had never been

able to swim back up the river of fashion,
that squashed spittoon of an emblem whose
brimme, or brille, looks like it must
have had a bite taken from it by some
roc of wonky tin ladles perambulating
through the shag of contextual slather
to enter the pure humm of exacerbation's
twilight alienation, that Munsalvaesche
of hybriditease, that garden of din
and growling puppetoes, whose shew,
though glass, or glans, so to sprake,
will never fit the too tiny, too huge
foot, non-metric of course, of Synderella.

Sign endures elevation, but man
fares far less well, being subject
to signs made concrete, aluminum,
lead, and achieving weird velocities
unknown by man, or the woe of word,
the pathetic vehicle of

the green got
the maha verde'
the emerald ghost
the pavonine smaragdynamo
in whose hybridigm

we find

a cross between
the eyes of
Argus Panoptes
and the breasts
of the Artemis
of Ephesus,

and there's mi,
the sounds I make
falling on wigged
clay ears, entering
or not entering,
any stodgy Kentish
gloss, or the tam
of rheos, some
inscribabble relic flake
hovering in the still
windlass of willfull
folly, the bright
unlearning of the air
itself, like a chafing
lava of laughter
borne from a mixing bowl
of solemn naked stechados
of burning crimson trees,
trees that had once been
cephalopodium

in which ascendant and steerable
descendants of the dirigible
became eligible for negligible
dioramas of storax, as if
the lure of all things
were to make them into
ever prettier, ever more
paradoxical little scenes,
as in the name of the jewelbox
spider.

Gasteracantha means belly thorn.
And Cancriformis is crab form.

But the spider itself looks
like a smiley-face, or an odd,
armored wart hoggish gorgon,
its whole carapace become
a sort of amulet, ornament,
or emblem of natural apotropaicism,
and in human understanding, the
reality would then be, a natural
apotropaischism, or better,
apotropaischemata, highlighting
the pack, or the gang, as it were,
and it is werewolverine, or
lycanthropic, that belly thorn
that is the picture, itself.

Which brings us the inevitable terms,
Negmatism, or Magetivity, or maybe it doesn't,
maybe it takes us back to the showroom
where they've cleaved the motor in twain
to show its workings, or perhaps,
there's a little saddle covered in
green bees, whose heads only
have grown to look like Gastrocanthus,
and maybe the island upon which it is saddled
is a sort of hoarse dervish whose whirling
is something less than a piquant version
of "laugh and be fat" and something
more than a delirious misconception of
"the rusticks alarm to the rabid" which
"seems often more like a sort of"

disembroidered nose
with two exquisite

dread locks
protruding
sweetly
from the
nostril
processes

"as if a kind of"
self-winding hair-clock
could exist
in that jewelbox skull
or as if

there could be special furniture
for inspecting perineums

taints brought up to face
and rendered faceless
in a kind of

leering foppity
whose contour
abridged all
clinamen, or
adjacent
clinching
rectitude.

Sterling?

Indeed!

Stirlings, ye all be..
Like the twaddle of suns
agroshing in a marvel
of elastic octopus eggs
and all trying to

jimmy the logos
when the lox
are already laid out

that boneless

cock hare
made a wedding dress

to terrible
dribbling
riatourish
ribagatomes,

ach!

fleeky hirnslups
buffing
the haemocoelanterm
of fin-speed
xylocurves.