mess

beauty and the beast
in every molecule and atom
renaldo and clara round the world
in a dirty gondola
obsidian brown or mineral coca cola
oh why do these long pale sheets of cloudy mica
stack between the angular wires
where the sleep grouse pouty
and the chattter fire swallows
through shredding cloud keys
then sweetly whisper and drift on through the day
kemet km.t comet chem trail kempt
cometh key met came at coo ma'at
in a white jumper and white helmet
and white rocket pack with forearm rests and handgrips
oxygen
floating gracefully through rocky valleys to the music of mahler
and gliding over hillock and outcrop
Hern O'hirn to Das Narrenvolk:

In 1954, Radovan Ivšić finally managed to escape Zagreb and
emigrated to Paris in 1954 at the age of 33. Within a few days
of his arrival he met surrealist poet Benjamin Péret and, a short time later,
André Breton. The latter, impressed by his reading of King Gordogan,
which he described as a peerless work, “limned with the dew of
primal innocence,” quickly invited Ivšić to join the daily meetings
of the French surrealist group that were then held at the café Le Musset.
From this time to the formal dissolution of the group in 1969,
Ivšić was prominently figured in all its activities.
While his texts and photographs appeared in all their publications,
he was also known for his work for sound.
The sound system that he installed in the gallery
that housed the international surrealist exhibition of
1959 on Eros created a stir for its unprecedented use
of the sounds of lovemaking.

beauty and the beast
in every molecule and atom
renaldo and clara round the world
in a dirty gondola
do what you will with a vertical hyphen
the vampire paper
laid across the fat flesh neck desk
its repose lit up, neither fever nor languor, on the bed or
on the meadow.

it's the friend who's neither ardent nor weak
the beloved who's neither tormenting nor tormented
the air and the world not sought for

the luminous psychic central pillar
the thinking alabaster axle at the center of the wheel balcony of white iron lace
the curtains of emerald lace which cover the psyklopfian eye, a wheel bead
traversing a diabolical circle of peace

and the subject
an explosion of doves
whose empty spaces
form the cataracts of lost equations
laid like nictitating nymphs
in the clear gelatinous bodies of babies

oh why do these long pale
clear gelatinous bodies of babies
house nictitating nymphs
of exploding doves
in harmonic blueprints
of mediocre décor

Ajax and Xaja
round the world
in a dirty gondola
obsidian brown or mineral coca cola

motorrors
to cut the line

(exit rotating stage mandala with flip-top compartments)