hanthawaddy song

came tabinshweti
to bago
riding upon his beloved
kyaan kaung

came tabinshweti
from old toungoo
upon the brightly painted
kyaan

i hear voices in the garden

i here them down
great slopes of smarag-a-
baize-a-baize i hear
a bezoar forming and
informing on the two
crooked muses who are
down there still
talking and talking
Ergot and Appiol
in somethinglike
a rococo quiver
i actually see the voices
two thin cones of sand
that death the draping
of semele and her
fishlegs ended in
thrashing roots
and they wash each other
in voices and the garden
guths a smarabag
and psyche is set aflame
hic jacet "it lives"
or something crooked
i feel crooked voices
in the derelict field
and both my feet are
on their bathron
which like an ode to a screw
is down there still
informing on the two
Ergot and Appiol
lungs in a windcage
long green causeways
punctuated in various times
by small and secret gardens
which obviously are accidents
(their voices say)
do they accept that world?
and its 'forms'?
or do they run?
just leaving these goats to mill?
as in a picture?
"Is this Cyborea?" Ergot cries
"Cyberia?" said Appiol

[vorcui havoror]
it said
carved beautifully
underneathe
the heavy stone entrails
that marked the entrance
to the cave


https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2103776846516944

violent wastes of grey table (plausa du wort)

schtiral schticklaws
what entice any news
of the cretans before
their bull aurum goblememblet
seepnow what species' cameo
to the mendicarremour

here is the cable i received
your revived utteraunces are without bround
came heshe in bumper crop the camera
but lut let little go for the tiny blue
parasol that shines orbth on the comet space
it is a tickler from the core horn
in the center of the mind sphere home
slizam slizam o pygmalo-holo-pantagruelion

all these creatures bound forth
with leg parts
you are a land animal
drunk on odious marks
which have infected the soft insides
of your skull
of which the most radical essence is

the doughnut
turbidly
for bald dookie
for its most eloquent inking thus
revolves around its
secret trust and non-linear grinding
of the vinculo
in the grampear

forever the rug segments


https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2103389793222316

fao lu's impregnable castle of alchemical peace gardening

fao lu's castle was on top of a mountain
no one knew how long it had been there
but they knew fao lu was present
because you could see him up there working
in his weird garden
which was comprised of huge clay pots
hung from iron ropes that stair-stepped
around the perimeter of one of the towers
each pot hung from a large port with oculus and spout
which the pots descended from in the warmer months

it was only recently that the emperor
had taken notice of fao lu's castle
but in every single attempt to approach it
the government had failed
some force would prevent them
some men saw visions of wonder and deserted
others could not see the castle at all
or grew angry and resentful
and would start trouble among the other soldiers
in one way or another
fao lu's castle was impenetrable

two thousand years later
the castle still stood and the pots
were still being watered by old fao
his long white beard braided
his silk pajamas resplendent
with embroideries of rainbow dragons
and when the jets came
and released their missiles

fao lu stood there with an eggplant
in his hand and smiled
the bombs just hung there in the air
on the periphery of the castle
and over the years
became more and more transparent
but sometimes in fall
with a spyglass from the village below
you could still see the outlines of the bombs
as if they were still there
but just rendered permanently ethereal

and there is one village nearby where fao
is considered 'the spiritual mayor'
because of a little girl who grew so
fascinated with fao that by arduous trial
she climbed the mountain so as to see
the face of fao

and he came to her
and bestowed upon her a gift
a perfect red eggplant
but whose flesh was pale pink
and which contained a heavy
green stone seed
which when soaked in water
for an entire year
would become a loyal pet lizard
whose life lasted 100 years
and who could find any herb
in the forest simply by asking

after that the villagers
would return the heavy little
metal skeleton of the lizard
every 100 years
and he would give them
another bright red eggplant
and so it was
that fao lu was revered
in that village
because of the curiosity
of one small girl

in poison'd telegonies

golden bruises form
among the brutal dances
a nacre'd rose somehow risen up
from this lagoon of eels and diamonds
and made a monster tree
of the skies of all times
and places

this pearl is flattened
against the muscle
of the air

until auroras of florid fluids
somber beryls in suave splendors
rejoin the veil of limpid blurs
which flows in torrid torsos
upon the murmuring interiors
lashed once again
to the immovable mast-herm
of the eternal siren

following gulls

the feathered lion champion
walked for 10 years
along rue bonaparte
before returning
to its fungus state

the heart swells
with the message
of this plumed champion:

for art
for abscontrition

for its giving endlessly
unto the telling
of the truth

for who knows what a mushroom
must dream of
(wado and machedi?)
(mado and wachedi?)
when it walks along for decades
just outside number 31
outside the offices
of la plume

and you must not fear the seven days
even when all of consciousness
as we know it has become
this kmôhoûn
from the planet tkoukra

and just then

while sitting in the left-hand turn lane
waiting for the light to change
i noticed a bird drop swoop and
alter its planned trajectory
to land in the perfect and miniature
arch of the red letter n
of the wendy's sign
coming to rest in the unseen nest
away from and yet amid
the traffic of the intersection:

quevis-pacos
quevis-pagos

sacoscabra
(water running over their faces)

there is only one letter n
in the river
in the forest there is
only one high-pitched
stone n (cueva-kuna)
there are no mistakes
in the marks themselves

kencheko poká pauká
chuy yra huguaw
kopá dúla

if i were relative to the cheek
my tongue would be a paw
and poke into the cheek
like a hammock

a slave is not a hammock
and havok is not a slave
nor a state (m-bu-sao)
(wattage running over their faces)

their chewy ears
like huge guavas

are opalescent
duels

i see hordes of them
wrestling in the water
their feathers
stand up

and run like iguanas
on their hind-legs

they run along a fallen tree
400 or maybe 3000 kilometers long
until they come
to the bohios of the bohemians

the last people
with cracked faces
(car-horn-feathered-iguanas)
and there they sit in chairs
all mother or all mouth
all-birthing-devouring
the romance of the lone trumpet

and put on their mustaches
of hamburger

ALL SUN RELATIVES

hereme

in blood foam
the mastodon turtle
laimdota
in the sunken castle
to read all night long
for bubble imp
for oedipus bindu
replicating into
hoary slipknot
the silver whiskey
the mercury bear
whose red snout tentacle
coils the antic
hijinks kunstle

do not feast
the delicate ears
of the svelte woman
whose raised arms and hands
signal across
to the bubble imp valley

the poppy
is a television of cappilaries
engorged with ancient books
they flow slowly
attracting blood foam
until blood foam stars
replicate a lens shell
so that the turtle
is a rope turtle
of constant sluicing

no lame iota
can call its caste
for the castes that are
are of field fires
called 'the mirrored face'
and are a ladle
no two ladles
one hung from each lapel
each stiff lapis lapel
of the lupin lupine canejo
which rides the mastodon turtle
now bubble imp or

'kunstle rising'
or lame' doxa
as shell game

Come Bucks of Kombu, Ahh, Moyo-Moyo

i am tuning into you
yndyrë tokë vozis
Carbi biśbēra curi karā

fat land paddle
you use atop the abode
of your iron column
Kuhaa ang tambok nga kalibutan
i am turning into you

drawn fat
and quartered
like a word
severed like its name
pang pang

rubber chicken chimneys
sneak coldly through the smoke
sweeping up clouds
into their severed noses
i am tuning carbi tokens
chicken paddle chimney array wheel

a jeweled dew
lays there like an
intellectual woman
i am absolutely still
for chewy hash is my woe

there is a faint pang
as i tune
into her inhabiting the dew
in the new swan body
which has grown suddenly

from my obese
chin knob
Kumbukumbu ya moyo
Dila dī maimōrī
and bid me a dim ad
to the wheel

capua сводка

Sukēkō sum̐gura
Drank’ bavakanin
drvats yen vorpes
paraganernem fogunk
kanalakata ketrecben

aizietām
hair creeley grimm hold
head pipe donkey manta
chimera chimarrear

envergar
din mad
dizzy mdadisi
posarse i suppose
that the ass will fit
or find its junket
when the peace of sam
ferdwilts adieugo
adjugo

you go
ajjoined ajoittua
to the quiet circle
of fig parrots
to face their judgement



https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2101107143450581

lurolimbi

(from lueures + limbes)

are creatures from deep within
the andromeda galaxy
difficult to reason with
because of their advanced status
they are only mildly respectful
of the mentality and culture
and indeed bodily borders
of their fellow cosmic species

their bodies are strange
and became the way they are
through vast and impervious
ages of culture

virtually indestructible
the typical lurolimbi
appears when isolated
to be something like
about 8 feet
of incandescent hovering rope
but which can become instantly
a network of fibers so vast
and so fine that it can
span an entire solar system

when engaged the lurolimbi
appear to 'think in the air'
spreading their networks wide
and letting constellations
of physical symbols
coalesce and interact

in fact
the center of the andromeda galaxy
is nothing but an enormous nest
of ageless lurolimbi

not normally war-like
but extremely mischievous
preferring to seed slower cultures
with concepts and techniques
arising seemingly from within
and arranged in such
a virtuosic manner
that some species go catatonic
in spasms of ecstasy

green eggs and ham

500 or
one thousand years
of tribal warlords
splintered hordes
of gnawing

rhymes
and Zeus
in abject legalism
doctor bombay
calling wu wei
to meritocracy update patch
what is this
horrid beast
we've set loose
in taffyland

lurid hollow brains
are pulled on relentlessly
by one hundred million steeds
of mush

in mush we trust
and so
let mush guide us

dirge and sludge
heavy
dank
metal
and lava vomits

orange sunshine

as Great Ubu once said
it is the science of imaginary solutions!
which will lead you by the nose
to drink at the horse's mouth
that gift!
that fountain!

so odorous!
so rank!
oh i'm so very sure!
that the angels will stand aback
struck dumb
by its glory!

while the rest of us
get flushed
with the rest of this
crap shoot gumbo...

and so then orange sunshine
went out into all the lands
but it was as if a primordial ooze

was lurching
in a spasm

the old hoar's round surface
was aglitter
with an ograsm
a chasm
of spasms

and we wept bitterly
within the inertia
of a cosmic stupidity

HOORAY!

(xxx)
façon de vivre
tu es mordre

Indigo Basil

(for Seymour Krim)

would we
detect the influence
of Romain Gary's
Birds in Peru
in John Boorman's
Zardoz

or would we
from within this huge bush
of indigo basil
pray to the bright red snake
coiling around the snowman
like a belt

wait: snowman so tall
snowman so thin
snowman snowman
nowheresville / dig
but in these kohl black eyes

saying to it:
red white and blue
blue red and white
white red and blue

to which the snake says:
do not tread on me
alice-alice

aye, to have no
pants

a cold red snake

or tulsi
looking down
across the deserted
beach


https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2100106636883965

Hey Great!

totally great walk
through the upright
jumble of horns
through the
glass arches of glass bells
hey great

great scott!
great herring of red
or deep red
repeating redness
great
is the red red
red
olive
whose center
like an odalisque netsuke
is waving at us

we great!
oui formidable'
or something
very insinuatory
via suet
gas
or veld

that black ambiguous torso
held by tong
to the blue fabric
of its flame
where the whistling
honey bear bird
gives its singing antlers over

to the amber flute
to the amber coated
and resolute
dinoccavate

soo
wee
great

sui generis
garrullust
or blame

this may not be a song
but anyway
hey

complicated grille armor
loves
soft bodies
it thinks

O

let the dreadfull engines
melisma sem

some fundamental plane
or in which plateau
would be a segment
stem

o
letters
in which the capsizing ocean
transcend its shore
melisma-mind-snore
quoth

forever narr
o let the the dreadfull dungeons
pane
and this mad song go insane

where the leafing isles
tell that unity
is the source of all discord

for what is born
but the jarreth low whose
hyer eddy
ranges untuned along the course
of dodecaphony

and how
the definition by primordial hymn
roots off
in oxymoron

a vain din
a coosening
beside the grand
fits of the mother

melancholy
exercitations

this amphiontic
hybrid
as abquelless



https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2099572323604063

The Merchant of Ambon

what
is the dry fuse
and where the latch spark
lead
no albumin carve
true minister
the image as message
has deep roots
on the implacability
of order (for.all.things.)

could it be universal
when dreyfus
alone on devil's island
all alone in that fiction
would become an entire
specie
of engraving

gravity defends itself
with nothing
nothing is
and always will be
our greatest ally
and the most mind-boggling
villain
ever to set foot
on french guiana

iguana guano

jim jones swallowed whole
by an enormous pelican
wearing a bandana
made from the tricolour

no albumin
no universal album
of the all universal metaphor
jaw bone alone in space
on scab island
of nothing in defense

all the swirling of nature
all the soft eddy ports
all the plants
all the grains of sand
and molecules of air
descending into
the star-fish-like hands
of Rumphius-Dreyfus
Abrahab-Jim-Jones-Lincoln
the cosmic multigender
cloning killer station

it washes up
and then just stares at you
a tiny blue chameleon
floating on a bright red
forked stick

its drift would
would know you completely
in time

bcsbtby
because of bartleby
taxonomy if law of leisure
more clay

eigenmass

please help with my problem
i'm stuck on a sphere
and i walk and i breath
and even my thoughts move
all of it is moving
and yet going nowhere
all of the time
it feels like a joy
and a sickness
shared simultaneously with myself
and others who to themselves
are myselves as well



https://www.facebook.com/lanny.quarles/posts/2096736607220968

mogari no miya

wagon chemistry
the microphone knows
what my koto knows
the menus are noise sheets

she is rash in her meshes but stable
the harrowing banyan knows
in totally ceramic toes
mucho bazooka nose
we totally wash chemistry
too

i can ease into sauciness
where the high water terrans
redo their nubile tamarinds
they address the waters
with special cucumbers

they make raku karate figures
oceans of them
masquerading as words

yes it is a mishmash
a wagon of chemistry
and to take these karate terrans
will reduce the high of my microphone
until it becomes

communal snakes
of camouflaged beast foot shakes
my vomit performs like a kite
pulling a cormorant in a rickshaw
whose watoosie knows no death
because it makes tattles

yams may become wheels
for my wagon
in a sick ocean
and i cane its nauseam
with a high water tornado
until it passes
beneath the torii of sake'
as a co-mash
of your sorry
prince rebus

my disgusting fur
lays akimbo in a futuristic hat
in the shine of the ocean's neighborhood
and there on the sesame table will open
to become a squishy mote

i did not know
that a fedora could become a table
that may crawl like a worm
in a bikini

i did not moan
when they served me ramen
with yams

i was accused of caring
for the spider-faced medusa mummy
whose sugary chemistry
had led to kosher tatami mats

he knew cash
was snake kabuki
he knew the rooted rocks
and tangled trees
were a soaring bird
of softly gleaming jewels
wagging their foot nests

at the irrational
and beautiful yoga masters
who slept together
to become a symbol

a symbol cut into the grass
in distant fields
drenched with the dew of dawn

each dew drop
an alien life enthusiast
with politically questionable
behavior patterns

that my microphone screamed at
in the form
of a tussling forest

Why?

And when He came out onto the land, He was met by a man from the city who was possessed with demons; and who had not put on any clothing for a long time, and was not living in a house, but in the tombs. He was of shabbiness, and homelessness. Seeing Jesus, he cried out and fell before Him, and said in a loud voice, “What business do we have with each other, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg You, do not torment me.” For He had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. For it had seized him many times; and he was bound with chains and shackles and kept under guard, and yet he would break his bonds and be driven by the demon into the desert. And Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him and used him as a hotel, and as a pleasant middle class domocile, and had used his organs for appliances, for instance, his heart had been a demonic coffee-maker, and his liver, a refrigerator for delicate and delicious demonic repasts, etc. The man trembled, and then he said: My soul has been as an air-conditioner for unclean things from an ambiguous and dark nether region. Jesus then at once began preparations to flip the house of this man, and make of his demon coffee-maker and demon refrigerator, an angelic food processor, and holy toaster, to make at once a larger laundry room, an updated bathroom with baroque and mannerist tile mosaics, and finally, to give the man a patio with a view upon the infinite goodness of the lord.