like a "sickness" in the stomach *** 7am
after only going to bed at 2(am) -
and not from any considerable mention /
allusion to a "lack of sleep";
in that "sickness" is more or less
akin to a metaphor of a centipede wriggling
about on a hamster wheel /
a rollercoaster of sorts...
tough-chew of a fiddling with imitation
walking...
prized pins in the feet that have
turned to custard-hardening numbness...
immediately a towing of verbiage
seems more apparent than ever...
perhaps an interlude of
'and here's one i prepared earlier'...
//
besides: no one really wants to write something
maxim esque every other sentence:
feeding a readership of
exasperation and sighs - from what i've
heard writing maxims and / or aphorisms
can be a rather tedious undertaking -
for all the times that: when should be forgotten /
'suppose i dreamt it?'
- and any other offer than can
come with: working out a best lived towards
the amnesiac astral domain...
it just came out of a deep need for perhaps
conversation - then again i am too tired -
a tiredness that probably sounds better
if i push for some eloquence and
technicality - a miasma is too strong a word -
i'm trying to focus on ancient "things" -
a chimera variation of a turtle -
a talking sequoia (but an oak would
do just as well)
and a jellyfish...
from centuries old... lethargy...
with this living:
a tryst a harangue
a search for catharsis -
if need be for a mystery:
loitering on the promise of -
by the gallows on
a Sunday -
in a year were all
such days could be: literally read as being borrowed
from the benevolence of
that monstrous UV bulb;
and her copperskinned serpent
monstrosities of trickle a tease
of skin's to sizzle: undertones of
thrashing water against a window
in the ear reach(ing) a pitch higher...
//
towing too much space: nudging forward
a shy rubric - an omni- litany (by any other
prefix, squalor)
between a noun like shy
and an adjective shyness - formality:
a word genus out of identifying it as such -
a technicality of teaching / learning
this (a) language...
- but it dawns on me that i have perhaps
eroded too much of origin and thought
and perhaps even an originality via
the cameo cinema of memory (fickle creature),
but it also dawns on me that
perhaps 10 years apart (circa
) is enough "time" /
the same sort of space that would allow
a rereading of a work that's
either Herr Watt (ha ah ha)
or a Thin Geon
Anne's Wake -
for what use to i have for any
more of that democratic endeavour -
if only to reprise upon: from the catacombs,
the labyrinth, the ancient library,
the depth of sea upon sea of paragraph-congesting
a drawing-up a coming up for air
akin to (verbatim)
- ****, Nick & the Naggies / Glugg &
the 3 riddles - Chuff etc. -
in the house of breathings lies the word,
all fairness. the walls are of rubinen and the glittergates
of elfinbone. the roof hereof is of massicious
jasper and a canopy of Tyrian awning rises and
still descends to it. a grape cluster of lights
hangs therebeneath and al the house is filled
with the breathings of her fairness,
the fairness of fondance and the fairness of milk
and rhubarb and the fairness of roasted
meats and uniomargrits and the fairness of
promise with catatonia and avowals...
that from out of nowhere and for reason
other than: in order to write proper & "proper":
tossing and fidgeting the little oystertongue
like imitation(?) i.e. forget conversational
standards of languid, lingo, linguine -
in a frock of half down and in a tuxedo of
half up
for none of this could possibly
make it into: it's a Thursday morning
by now all the newspapers have,
have been printed...
perhaps i'll tender a pause to imply:
pounce-stealthily-hidden in
wait:
trainspotting & *****-tickling itch-not-itchy...
now that would be a-happening of sorts:
beside all the bog-****-sodden autobiographical
miasma and fog...
beside all the fog-coup-nudging shadow
with elbow and prayer to a nuke-UV-bulb...
a heart a sparrow a ribcage:
when farting into the wind
when throwing a stick against a tree
in a forest -
when the unbelievably
corrupt sense of self is content, pure,
by pure i'm only aiming at:
uninterrupted -
or... without a conjunction
like and...
that's before: that's a before veering
toward: image - begin, again:
a chandelier made from champagne flutes...
on a side:
i can stomach divulging and bulging in
shackles and monkey's
cackling imitation giggles -
some existential angst (although not something
grandiose as a 20th century sort
or "European" / 19th century precursor)
on the periphery of some "now" (a variation
of when, what if - how, what?)
such that it is a beautiful lie:
this life...
and my newly found estimation
of revising esteem for: not wriggling
in worm-food and silly-ink:
a medium of tedium of being taken
seriously (even if as a "reverse psychology"
reversal of joke)
a puncture a wound that "word-thing"
compilation of:
well beside something as interesting
as: it's an essay by a lucy ives and
it's an essay but for me it's more
a shortcut a footnote parade for my own:
would it ever (at all) be better
to cure an itch by a pinch
or in(deed) by a scratch...
gravestones and heads of matches:
possibly very itchy specimens
it's not hard to imagine
******* on a pebble: no, not imagining
it to be a toffee (landrynek)
but honest to god and all that's
Port & Geese (Frugal, Portent - i forgot
the attached -al in s.p.e.l.l.i.n.g)
i have nothing equivalent to:
beba babe caco (clot)...
in my own in nomine patris
since: what is much dissimilar
besides... "******": baba implies
old woman / peasant woman /
or woman as harangue (of sorts)...
even though babka =
a sort of cake (elevated
sponge, elevation = more bite to it)...
then comes the suffixation of
the diminutive (adjective)
to the word...
babeczka, babusia... babcia
(grandmother):
no language policing here or alt.
wizardry / frothing at the "salad" i.e.
concretely (in conc.) a D. Pignatari ref.
but for me: unless not congested (at least
like so) then latin is: loophole it see-through
it's almost flimsy it's barely visual:
why-because-it's-so-******-pragmatic
& why-because-it's-so-utensil-where-none-required
& economically sound
& sieve & water & thirst &
it's hardly an M like Ⰿ
or Ⱄ as S
let alone an I (pronoun)
i.e. not vowel(,) which is a syllable compound
of Ⱑ (let alone Я) -
perhaps via some distinction
between vowel and pronoun
and aye i.e. yes...
i̊ must say if the pronoun is so bothersome
and more: cut the head elsewhere
sınce ıt's there by no real dıstınctıon
when compared to får
when compared to fát...
unless that dıstınctıon be made:
also elsewhere - ȷust like so (Jettıson Bothersome
& Blues)
unless: bothersome camouflage like
a broccoli in a sea of cauliflower akin to
ınınınınınınınınınınınınınınınınınınının
nnnnnnnnnnnnnınnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
when "oops" and Bob's your uncle
i.e. ınınınınınınınınınıninınınınınınının
...never mind - i've been here before
but for the sake of convention (ctrl-c-ctrl-p)
as clear as day:
i̊ might add...
because it would not (otherwise)
in any other way not suit me -
thrice up ¡¡¡ thrice down !!!
all in all: a leisure of an exercise in...
terms of waiting for such
pennies of a wording to drool off
a muse's heavenly gob.
