Wednesday, February 26, 2014

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
uniformlessly bewildering

the open sky
leavened by graven
whose masque
is the greening
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

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

the 'one that stands by you'
is a camouflage
for empty shelves,
a poim of Stella
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 

for the where the lamprey

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

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

and so ends the treatise

leaving each moment
in its own all deforming
and performative
the subject as the quill
of the objective

the triple muse
as ascendant

as writ mine auctour called Lollius

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.