Tuesday, July 29, 2014

props of reception

in the dark the twinned forms
at hand level

to the grasp

vexed by a polished mineral

dachshund heads
made long light bulbs

the snout or screwed end
for the handles

but the snouts can be lifted
independently (cant)

and the bulbs portend
some cantilevered waiting

as if an andiron (pretend)
and a byzantine slipper lamp

were condensed
in an oily silence

where a perfect pipe descends
from the base of the dog's bulb

to join a reservoir
in the shape of a winged sausage

whose back opens
by means of a lid (wind)

and inside
amid the beads and the slurry

are microphones
and serpents

which pass through oily rings
covered with long stiff bristles

that index the beads in vertical rows
so that the words can be read (forage)

                                x a s
                                e l  l
                                n b u
                                o u r
                                u n p
                                s e e
                                l m n
                                e o t
                                n n h
                                t  t  i
                                i  l  k
                                p u u
                                u d o
                                s  e s
                                u n
                                n s
                                o c
                                u a
                                p r
                                u a
                                n t
                                c a

and the oil can be drained
through a spount like a fluted tail

but the interior of the dark
is even more complex

the animal which grasps
the oil bead singing snake lamp dog
is itself a handle

a hold for garbled grasp
which in its dim logic masks
the whole as a subtle diatribe
against the part

the part as whole which knows
the hole in the nose
may not be used as a handle

leveraging cant
unites the difficult
with the simple
in a bright right wave room

sometimes the hopeless
critical smile is a crisis

the pleasure may be even
more diverse
than can be spoken

by the weal
of forlorn form
echo'd by the dumb
and byzantine rings

which say

wend your way
next thrown asway
to the virliosan hoop

No comments:

Post a Comment

Irrony Observes The Earthing.