An Imperfect Imposition

An Imperfect Imposition   Gloss
       
He goat a haircute,   “Beware enterprises
molted a shive,   that require
and emptoed the moot.   new clothes.”
       
He out cast the let   Ruined good tune,
down at sup-a-dup   raised to put
and unvaled a crune,   bread on table.
       
frumpted and follying,   Commuters fly
and clutched the rolled,   in wingtips aspire
acrested the abridged am-this   cross closed bridges.
       
Daddy-Oh! Pater-pitter-patter Ah, familiar
potairy, roong froom the Gin-is-is in joy of brewcrew
hisses Ink Pour Age.   song of a pint.
       
He rit the hoad alt coomed,   [Readers
sweeat urned his id,   may reply
and snoozled wths sapoozed.   below.]
       
Hairfigged fitted, compred wronged, All quiet
he wroted, a temptwitted,   on the worsted
but ownlie slylents twas loosening, font.
       
ands the suns downsed and moons Only a real fool
arowsis a crewised shell fellowing ignores the full
pips sillied byburds.   loon.
       
Sorry to impose like this is the poet Where should it go:
speaking, but have you a place for thes Recycling, Compost,
amythidst your these is?   or Garbage?
       
Supposing posing, oh, posing:   Climbing
“I am positioned,” the imposing the corpus
poet posited, “I am composed.” ladder.
       
Nonesuchofwhich off course   Maybe end
was teachno techno blareney,   with the “byburds”?
steel eye as I am I am postplus. Too late now?
       
Owl duedew uandeye goal   Reading kicker
quickwick of it?   position player
Illklicked ear, wellclick thr.   diversion.

A Lyrical Poem of Vast Beauty Reluctantly Revealed Ridiculously; or, Possibly the Widest Poem Ever Written

Oh
luv
ly
ths
yth
nss
rth
lss
ly
un
rave
lling
pling
bling
sling
Sans
snarls
&
pots
&
pans
&
yell
ing
frm
the
top
of
the
stairs
Whn
old
age
 ______________
still
like
a
horizone
lies
a
cross
a +
drift
pacific
blue
Oh pan
acean
ly
on
the
Strand
 ~~~~~~~
summer
still
&
above
the
Strand
grand
avenues
Houses ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
closed
like
shelved
novels
every
 [_] [_] [_]
wandoor
a
 ||||||||||||||
page
un
||||||||||||||||| |||||||||||||||||||
cut
Every
home
a
pot
ten
shall
poe m
full
.%
care
act
ears
&
song stairs
We inner rupture ths poem
to bring you a comment:
     !    !   !
Well?
"Is this mic on?"
"Another poem? I used to like this blog. Has he lost his YKW?"
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ Reply Not every.

Waiter! Waiter! Water! Water! please plea see
Really? This whole woeful willy nilly silly stuffled-stuff is enough to drive a noose guy nuts you know what I mean? Perm it me to clar i fry  !
whn dows Beauty In Ter ?

Keep SCROLLing

RIGHT

What? We are weave ing the har bor for the o pen C ~~~ deep po a fry well try certain ly wide anyways
You & me let's Beat it out-a-hear let's go let's get lost golast golest golist goloose golinked goleaked
know
wht
?
Yssssh
awe
s
last
lest
list
lost
luster
&
plural
 paisley tiediedlies
Do
a
log
ist
ics
s
egi
there
s
con
verse
say
shuns
reveal
Alphabet The didrest hidrest hadrest hardrest
he awrecked up awent walking
composing each step ed
re member patters n
shapes saw assign
KEEP OFF THE
WORDS!
Pls

Apropos of Nothing Alphabet Primer

AA beast abuzz amidst the clovers: A is for Always Anxiously

Bees besieged in Beelzebub’s circles: B is for Bunched Bop

Ceding the bee’s sting: C is for Cut Care

Denuded dazed drone doodle: D is for Drilled Daffodil Dust

FlowerEach easy flower glowers, going crazy: E is for Eating Earwigs

Felled flies found in forged gyre: F is for Flounder Flour

Grease hopping aground bottom: G is for Goaded Garlic Gear

Heliotrope: H is for Standing Erect at High Noon

M ss ng  n Act on: I is for Idling Slowly Down the Mississippi River

Jived, joed, and jellied: J is for Jump to Comments

Kitchen kelp: K is for Krilling

Los Angeles lovers afloat: L is for Lost in Ballona Creek LowlandsCAPE

Moneyed, honeyed, and schooled: M is for Marriage

Nonesuch wiser the nuncio nun: N is for Nauseous Napkins at High Tide

Only one occupied optative mood phone booth: O is for Obnoxious Ontology

Peeing peregrine on ice plant spears: P is for Pilled Paper Piece Work

Queued quacks: Q is for Quick Quiz

Read in rows: R is for Rubric Rust

Sew seven scarves: S is for Subsumed Existential Snow

T is for Tremulous Titbirds Telling Mother Father Will Be Late

Undertow: U is for Until Unction Snore

Vexed voice: V is for Verisimilitude

Waiting for FatherWho When What Where Why: W is for Wasted Window Father Watch

X’s not and no O’s

Yellow harrow and black and yellow bumblebees: Y is for Yielded Yelp

Zonked zone: Z is for zooming in and zooming out, buzzing, zooming, walking, talking, doodling at poems, scratching names with dates in wet concrete, riding the bus to the metropolitan zoo

Point of View

…from an old notebook, around 1988:

Point of View

Samuel Beckett’s “Molloy” p. 161

  1. I

  2. I

  3. I
                                                 I
                   I
my
       us      I          I    
I      I     
                             I              my
       I                          my                  me
                                    my                me
                    I                               I
                              I

               I
                                   I
                                          me
             my                          
                                              my
                      I 
             my
me                                 me
           I
   I                           my      my

   myself
                                                I
                                       I
      I                                          my
              me         my

                                                          I
                  I

     I
                                     I
                                                         my
                                         me
   me
   me

The above, expunged page is from Three Novels by Samuel Beckett: Molly, Malone Dies, The Unnamable (First Evergreen Black Cat Edition, 1965, Seventh Printing). Page 161 was selected not quite at random (I liked that it begins with the numbers), though any page might work, to illustrate, in concrete poetry style, the proliferation of personal pronouns throughout Beckett’s text. The excised page, each pronoun appearing in its place from the original page, the surrounding words cut, makes for an effective and lovely concrete poem expressing one of Beckett’s themes, the individual immersed in white space, floating. Although an equally provocative reading might suggest that each pronoun is a separate individual, each reaching out for another. Try reading the concrete poem aloud, pausing between words just for the time it takes for your eye to locate the next one.
Three Novels by Samuel Beckett

page 161

On Words

City Life

“Overrated and abused, underrated and reused, hyperbolized and underused, understated and overstated, restated and retracted, excused and double-downed, drowned and rusticated, nailed to a wall and drawn on a scroll, ignored and explored, welcomed and turned away, painted and scrawled, yelled and whispered, tattooed and erased, written down and written up, spelled out in the bottom of a tea cup.”

The above quote is from the comment stream to a previous post: “Bob Dylan & Clarice Lispector: Bewildering, Transfigured & Redeemed.”

The drawing above I made years ago, the paper now yellowing. I wanted to title the drawing “Leaving the City,” or something like that, “City Life,” but the drawing might somehow be appropriately titled “Words,” for the city is constantly in commute, the exchange made with words; our world is filled with words, sounds rising, mixing in the froths and foams – the city yeasts of ambition and commerce, change and exchange, the city a sea of words that act like yeasts, fermenting. Inside each car a radio no doubt adds to the mix, each car an oven full of baking words.

At night, a bread of crusted quiet rises, the din below softening, words breaking apart and falling like shreds of unintelligible graffiti, night words. From a distance, animals contemplate the city scene.

Walking with another in the country, on a path, words spoken have a pronounced different quality than words spoken walking on a sidewalk on a busy city day.

The characters in the foreground of the drawing might be workers in an urban call center. The fellows in the bottom right might be stumbling or sneaking home from a local pub.

“Words are overrated,” the commenter had said to the Dylan & Lispector post. No doubt, I thought, but more, and replied with the comment quoted above, to which the commenter then replied, “Ja, just so.” And, there you have it. Talk on.