Sunday, June 14, 2015

Pung Mote and Rung Pote


Khnopff painted less and less, devoting most of his energy into the house
in Brussels, built according to his own plans, and decorated following strict rules
such that white, blue and gold were the only colors permitted inside the building,
whereas the external doors, window frames, etc., were all painted black and shaped
like batwings in honor of Ensor, who lived just down the way and would watch
the slow construction's denouement with a telescope, cursing all the day,
"He's stolen my batwings! He's stolen my blue, gold and white divan!" Ensor
and Khnopff were backhanded friends, but both paintbrushes just the same, trapped
in the same box, but Ensor had a magic mask which allowed him to walk nude
and transparent through walls leaving only burning floral silhouettes, like
human keyholes fringed in nictitating nouveau gewgawry. Irony requires
a kopf sensor. Brussels has always been a place for painted salamander divans,
great soft pillow crowns which hold one's head in place, and which keep one
from moving around too much, like a paintbrush holder.

We are called Walloons by the Belgians
because when the ancient people of Gallia
were travelling the length and breadth
of the earth, it happened that they asked
each other: Où allons-nous? Where are we going?
the pronunciation of these French words is the same
as the French word Wallons (plus 'us'), i.e.
To which goal are we walking? It is probable they
took from it the name Ouallons (Wallons),
which the Latin speaking are not able to
pronounce without changing the word by
the use of the letter G. Don’t change this
by the use of the letter G. Alter it
by the use of the letter G. Build a larger G,
a compote, in Brussels, for Cortázar, born
in Ixelles to excel, to eggzelles, itself, as would
the Tung Rote.

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.