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Let's be perfectly Dada --- You mean Fouist?
admitting our songs wereshit our worse the shite of seven generations
however let's be dishonest it was Fouist blue
futurist red anarchic
black
the unchosen few what say the
light as Jeff cried his wild oats
of heaped up lifes, lives as they say , they say everything don't they? is it
so now?
a sing song Ireland voice
sotto voce in my head pan
a dead bastard lurking in my enviable poetic states
as Artaud says they won't let you room the stoning does not relent
but Oui
Artaud got
stronger thank you to you and other
ssssssszzzzz
pick out the daffodils the rose bush
against this other attack
Fickle them demons hurling petard on petard the stinking shrike bastards
haring on the rags of your mind
the monstrations of demonstrations of stratification against millennial molecules
what flow Heraclitus ?
Flocky taught me to hold my pen he taught without seeing he was
stuck inthe candle wax on the ball point of his bic ink rolling off page
after page
Heraclitus?
the citrus the bushes burial
boysenberries at half past ten
at quarter past seventeen your studio tuxedo love was there Raffi the seven burgs
a woeful diet too
it was Tanya with her dogs
Alden the paintings
the basements
Holly
suits
You know what I mean, you know
what I mean
the scene
the scene Hellespont and glory
this glowing in the dark permanent pomegranate the taste of her lips
decades apart nevertheless always the
best
the first best taste
decades apart later after betimes ever and over over and ever
thank you dear Lady
An extraordinary Fou day winging south horizontal love emanatio
the imminent tall
above
the care weir the low matter
sprinkling benefit to all
no caterer he was
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