Lanny Quarles wrote:
sugar ray robinson caruso
sugar ray robinson caruso
go to the lonely valley in your woven palm fedora!
go and sing the tenor part (of Fedora)
while you shadowbox
shadow box the Mantuan Muse of Madness
That Virgilian Anxiousness of tending goats near the ocean
whose thrum and hush
crash and vumm
Bug Jargal a buggy boxer's cortex suite
whose tools lie oxydizzying in the saline immensity
corrupted
useless as a woman
in the bed of a proper pirate
O that you might sing to those cannibals
a song so sweet and empty
so furtive with destiny
that the flame of its cooing breath
might open a window into a world without long-pig
a world in which utterance
representing more than animal mouth noise
might come to mean
a star-light born from within
and kindling a universal brotherhood of wonder
a feeling which would not fade
like the footlights of the theatre
but grow
with each passing day
until in its gnarled unceasing brilliance
it might open itself into a Weird Aeon
where knowing flowed
and burst through the cataracts between us
where finally in that amazing jungle world of hope
birds of paradise
all
would throb
to the glorious izbokbinelda of pure energy
where finally I might be buried
in a white chocolate Yeti-rolls
whose stylized curls mimic'd the feathered
moustaches of Quetzalcoatl in a jade tophat
where finally
sugar ray robinson caruso
might put down for the count
the blackness of the human heart
down onto the canvas
where it belongs
a painting of words
in a fugue-ish ring
whose circle is squared by language's
shipe-shafting mastike
its original error
whose is as Oz
makes an emerald
grown like a gobsmacked
schnoz;
Pow!
w/ hummingbirds for blood..
Lanny Quarles wrote:
sugar ray leonard nemoy perversely builds his nautilust from
the dismantled remains of the global war machine manta, a smoky
and gleeful pod of chimerical pines for a home, he reigns
as alphabeast over the tiny misbehaving island of Cyclopian Rocs
where once Sinbad sinned bad, and where Caliph Mickey Mouse
once admitted 'his' Eunicity to Moon Unit Zapata, her huge aloof
skies being investigated by ingestions of Interpretol.
phanero wrote:
this verse is a striated heap wherein I'll, in this mantle, well
up, a thrall to the lupine eye, which, remote and rapacious,
yokes a pattern so infinitely tiny, spieling, spilling chimerically,
the skies, the skeins of the misbehaving sisters.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Harrison Jeff" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: <WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA>
Sent: Wednesday, April 05, 2006 3:55 PM
Subject: The Prospect, Lackadaisical
this verse is a strayed hope wherein I'll, dismantled, dwell,
unenthralled, and like the moon aloof, and with obscured glee,
upon space raised huge by pines, spelling, alphabetically, the skies
this verse is a stranded populated stopgap wherein I'll, remandered (the
hell with Mickey Mantle), tell Interpol of, like the moon's proof, and
with obdurate spleen, opting space raised to huge pines, spieling, alpha
male likely, the smoky pod skies
sugar ray robinson caruso displayed just the negative amperes that I,
under-enthralled, perceiving rink rats, cooled over briny fires, stemmed
as certain file functions, goggling at the vision of geese in the atria,
present for intense stock exchange, puttering modestly in the garden
near the winch, spying a gross fantasy a-sail on the rumour of seaside
bling, sweating out the lodge, groping thru handbags for the extreme
message doctored late in the day, raising nimoy on theories of dawn of
the deed and exaggerating the potency of pretending to be a wheel, all
the while relating to the exhaustive exchange between one verb tense and
another, always associated with ratchetts
reply to the cannibals in bas-relief, poke
asymptotes or whatever
ringtone while Sugar Ray
Leonard Nimoy sweats out
factory numerals as a flat rate
base pay overweeing stodgy frce of
umbrella within the gasp of belly up
stronger than a fence of
trees around a neat bucketful
of Walden Pond the miserable excuse
for a glacial backpack
download
more than the last nonsense
string reason on a piano throne
and stop the buttress with wet fees
those who violate the junction
construe overpass nestled in
the roadway past the pond into the
thicket of city structures where
Rays of Robinson beam brightly
and beams of Leonards and even a poky
throb of nifty Nimoy makes
an appearance telltale and
rattled Mickey,
serving billions daily
