I.

Brackish watah of factotums
And golems of eye wash
Meritocracy atrocious in Scotia
A plein aire ruckus over puck
And fruc and clactattas mein
Got smashed glass bottom boat
Run out of insect attentions
To intellect’s pander some crack
Of tank battle dribbling in the
Poisoned card game pincis
Movement vituperation
Eichmann frottage in basket
Case of lavic riches flash
Frozen in suppressed laughter

Accusatory riffs in a forever rictus
Of pointing fingers and flanges
Of self attack manifold blessing
Of air strike smudge pot offerings
To a beached boint bivouac
of false memory never happened
never happened

unrecognizable the labyrinth that
the head has become in the
sprawling triage of positivistic
interpretations of history,
in a feedback which becomes
all this brittle illusion of bloated
self of cities of stoat and ague

II.

superstring skyscrapers cloaked
will not offend the riverine
goddess whose gnosis is shining
through the eyes of where she
walks the breath of divination
of water by water her photogenic
vigor the vegetative wild gnosis
ever replete her every instructive
syzygy a synaesthetic object of the
conscious ground of being, a
Gaudinian mosaic of rock glistening
In la bahia de amores

III.

Said Pluto, said the drowned voice,
Wasn’t a blur of clensions of errant
Thoughts, the end of the tone row
Of trees was what Corot understood

Wanted to hold the perfection of a
Real image, a Millet, an armature
Of paradise pointing to a sea of
Brown rice fields



(11/16/2007)