les briga(n)des des stupéfiants

random earth clean?
the tax-havens have you say
do you know marco personally?
lemon tree very pretty
in cimbrian
in venice the langoustines
are very green this time of year
moi txell gloabet
ke dar mage vinzarn

in the long langoustine limousine
its two-leg company meets marco
for the first time

what's to with it? he says
business. he croaks
i want to dance with you.

then when you are in existence
we will have done business before

something bumpy
very valuable
intanto~
béertighedich!

here are the green languostine toreadors!
the realtors are peering into the little shoe
there is flute
supercomposition
scattering

(a thin train whistle, put your hands up)

a flake whose sales are waning
upon the wax
of the gestured bust
its broken dishes meet for the first time
marco conjoined with the column

and the night lounge
that long green lobster of a word
padded
its cells germane
its noise and message united
but also untied
in the story of rigoletto
the hunch-backed court jester
whose beautiful daughter

invokes a soft martini jazz version
of wagner's ride of the valkyries
someone who had a name
h-35-40

what were his lungs?
for a start
gilda and marco
are both radioactive fictions
opium of the masses
as they say

and only rigoletto
in the end
is real

but his curse refers to something
quite alien
a "perhaps" which relates in various ways
to lost details of various kinds
the artistic crisis
of contardo barbieri for example
or the fact that
in the universal opera of molecularity
our true myth

there is a field of combination
where
as languages lost and found
for all times

it is blanche herself
who is disguised as saltabadil
and who attends
the mass of the long green langoustine
its whole mass is
guo fu
in the great temple
of supercompostion

where feeling is refined
into rhapsody
as the cimbrians confute
in their ambia

(birds, sounds, in commotion)


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