Oh yes yes sir (looking up from the monumental pedestal)
After he’d flown the coop he began to breed
His feathers racing at dawn when the storms of flirting were spent.
Lusciously he swam in a humdrum unhealthy nebulous orbit of glutæal breasts
Omnivorous plundered among the distraught members of the senile aristocracy
Winnowed their contrived wealthes as a pixie passing through waves of filthy macaroni.
Went afterward through a purgatory of giant unchronological gizmos
That apace discombobulated his erst ferocious strength.
His preposterous barometric memory coming to roost
At last among the otherly genocided.
Lovelorn the prevaricating bastard at first betrayed a proclivity for predatory oppression
Lumbered with ponderous schemes and an accrued sense of preeminence
He celebrated urbi et orbi with droning histrionics
And stressing the tantrums of sincerely-felt paranoia
The hairy proportions of constructive pretentiousness.
Then immune to wisdom tasked himself with fostering a gangster atmosphere
Through which the pernicious meritocrats could safely engage in the furthering degeneracy of the outdoors
Where the criminally thriving fraternities of fraudsters scuttled the last fallacies
That had kept precariously afloat the previously undebunkable proletariat in its uniform stupidity.
Rummaging through posterity he saw all the autoists up to their polluted gills in substrata of chaoses
Presumably he also saw that “as the nigger entered the castrated nazi”
And “hunger permeated the tropics”
The massive demonizing of eroticism incontrovertibly followed suit
So that all doorways became borders beyond which into a new jail forthwith were you framed
Whereupon of course better steroidal curios and a swarm of extraneous other doping gears galore
Further persuaded the inconsiderate featherbrained to suitably comply.
Plus added verities too long now to report plus then bound to be impugned by the slanderous adversary
Whose verdicts however verily stink stank and have sempiternally stunk...
Prone to etceteraize the sloven monocrat never gave precedence to the sphere
But supreme practitioner of destiny oratory
Rather to the foreseeable galactic anger
And above all to the quite traceable much annoying garbage the doomed same sphere
Having entirely surrendered to the lure of extreme consumption
Now then properly poached
Acceleratingly had for centuries been leaving behind in its wacky race toward fiery extinction.
He’d become, as plainly seen, a jocular moribund the while urinating ingrained pearls
Of self-perpetuating irrevocabilities.
Drowned in a tub of merdant dejecta sedulously produced by his own sanctity
His demise afforded his too often unfortunate followers ominous lodes of mirthful commentary.
Buried with nary an honor by supercilious reptiles
A phenomenally mistreated caricature
So warmly and strikingly (and filially!) (nicht whar?) (looky up!) preserved.
[His sundry apparent remarks being hereby selectively recorded
In order perhaps to promote his ulterior canonization where indeed?
All over the sphere surely.
Culled (the analects) by one here presently of them propitiously cursed partisans
The whom I mean the which (voilà cela va sans dire) dynamically rewarded
By monstrous providence with all kinds of virtuous qualities.]
~0~0~
Es mostren els missatges amb l'etiqueta de comentaris fleece. Mostrar tots els missatges
Es mostren els missatges amb l'etiqueta de comentaris fleece. Mostrar tots els missatges
dijous, 9 de juny del 2016
(looking up from the monumental pedestal)
diumenge, 5 de juny del 2016
Diminishing returns
Diminishing returns
Where teary she swore eternal love
in that small square with the single light pole behind the silent factory
she saw it again as she was passing by
Long after the man was gone long gone
the man to whom teary she had sworn eternal love
the man who became half a man cut in half at the waist
and that then wasted away rather fast
with her sworn eternal love that followed suit
An eternal love that if at first was cut in half
then it also wasted away rather fast
melting into air into thin air
into a little fog that a little wind swept forever away
And so it happened
it happened that she saw it again
the tiny square with the single phanal behind the obtumescent factory
the factory itself cut to size by now
just half a building now fast melting into nothing
She found it quaint she found the place odd
the diminutive square with the bent blind begrimed light pole behind the shrunken factory
and she...
She with no longing no regret
no remembrance she of having ever tearily sworn
to any man that if at first had perhaps been a whole man
soon had become half a man and then less and less
A wisp of a man more and more slight
the half of him cut in half again
a humdrum unbodacious weightless man
a man of no significance
a forgotten entity to whom once
Once perhaps tearily she swore she swore...
No remembrance... no...
Or perhaps just perhaps ever so slightly
there still aimless wobbles a tittle of a thought
a spindly thought indeed
a slight ever so slight thought
a thought evanescent evanescent...
Is she still the one who over the growing distance
at that remote bleary small quarrel of a square behind the muted spent factory
under an unseeing dead eye that...
Did it witness her hypothetical commitment...
Had she...
No... no.
~0~0~
dimarts, 22 de desembre del 2015
Stickmen
Stickmen
Patiently waiting the arrival of the vultures
In that enclosure packed with wounded warriors
Who jest about the war with a light heart.
The dancing sliver of the slithering light
Throws on the wall the blueprint of our future.
The light is black that plots our cross-eyed end.
Sliver of black light each aspiring to thrive
Thwarted yet each by a crossed bar that bars
All access to the consummate geometry.
Wounded we stare at the unresolved flux
On the blank wall where our fate flatly stalls.
Call me a stickman wrongly doodled and all
Two slivers crossed of unwieldy black light
Illuded and elided — serves us right.
dimecres, 2 de juny del 2010
a fleece
a fleece
immune to the heaven pap
the eerie humanoid proliferated
a parasite of herbivores
from a window on the ethics branch
an academic archer deemed his aim
as fairly tidy when he misfired
gifted as I am in many fields alas
– he construed – in this field I’m not
he could’ve killed the ewe that gave us milk
and wool all in the pursuit of his eager intent
that was by killing the host killing the alien invaders
which were ultimately just an anachronism
tossed by contingency on our lamentable present
be it as it may his belligerent attitude
far from epistemic astonished us all
that out of the hallowed guts of our matrix
the twisted retort of his gun shat thus those foul ingredients
of nugatory import instead of pausing
sitting down and abstracting
the indispensable thoughts that later would direct us
to the undeniable sempiternal truth
that is always that every new issue explodes
already attired with sculpted latent flawless instructions
when fallen from the great beyond
through the archer’s keen eyepiece
we saw on the ewe the humanoid horde
carousing and woolgathering on its fuzz
how cute they looked and surely there stood imprinted within them
the dawn of yet more fun
they sank in camouflage or if they emerged they prosperously beamed
at us gnarly buff strangers (to them)
(in virtue of our pesky distant inquisitiveness
of our dingy invasive gall
we humbly even sheepishly realized
oddly unsettled and in a reverie)
simultaneously by our professorial now turncoat archer
we were told that in essence those lofty nomads had already earned
their place amongst us
no scandalous notion that
for none of us needed
any type of persuasion as to the intricacies of the universe
...
how dumb could we be
the abyss is always borne in by the ubiquitous winds of contact
every invasion is hellbent on annihilating the invaded
either on the short run or the long one
together by the fast commission and the protracted omissions afterward
but only dying (if then) you know better
so that for the nonce we mentally wished them a satisfactory journey back
after they were finished with us of course
and forthwith in resignation and in deep empathy
with our sudden contiguous contemporaries we burned while leisurely walking
to the mountains the university
alone and unfed and fairly shorn we glimpsed
the compelling spectacle of their flambuginous erections
nothing dismayed they tore or gnawed at the roots and underpinnings
of our vast civilization soon abstracted into virtually a flop
oh well – we ejaculated – no need to stir too tempestuously
our so properly stunted emotions
let’s never be tempted by the elusive ignitions of occupational contaminants
we shall all sooner or later intertwine in the womb of warmed total reversion
by the erring pathogens desecrated
our sequences all disrupted
we grew defaced
while the gestures of our enemies became by and by from roughly woeful
to rather surfeited or if you will anguished
we thought they would have taken a recreational hue to them but no
their very multitudinousness indeed the strictures
of overpopulation debunked each degree of hope
or desire that they might have ever entertained
we had organized meanwhile into columns of poachers
the pedantic and the skeptic cloven only by a mob
of so-called heroes whose single claim to heroism was
the hysterical fires they brought back so that we should exuberantly
burn also and all in vain the obdurate mountains
it was really peculiar the way our furtive weaving now into their webs
bore such striking parallels to their first having woven themselves
into our all at once genial curiosity and uneasy reluctance
at first as we were dissoluble we were also by their red prismatic eyes
unseen but then after some reasonable hesitations
they – some of them that apparently clung more forcefully than the rest
to their squalid sense of patriotic fadoodle – tried to thwart our smiling hints
the psychotic hints of a loser who
secret thinker he about the inaccessible and consequently more enticing
brashly sets willy-nilly to conquer adjoining spaces
...
we always thought it to be (and no offense) virgin territory – we coyly
adduce as we adjourn and head infective for their center: a fleece
wherein now we lurk by dint of having kept at it almost everywhere
the new sequence abolishes the essence of the first dispute
now are we who seek either to dissolve their aim and efficacy
or soberer to harmonize the draining ebbs and flows
of our heroes’ stupid prowesses
our misgivings in a nutshell are that once bald the new bed
wherein the recently deceased shall invariably be laid and burned
to oblivion gone
(the well-known senseless loop being from one to many to none again)
our wealth of lame pleasures... chortles... grins... shocks...
proved in fine to have been after a while
another hoax or else too ponderous a barren egg of emptiness
our atrophied tendrils intrinsically binding no more the baned blades
that a neurologist would maybe have once conceived as supportive as
a dry cataphracted box wherein trances and ecstasies to enjoy
aplenty and maximal spams of an erotic clandestine... veiled... unnerved...
nature... wallowing then in subtly melancholic superfluities...
with us insectile phantoms lastly waning in the gloom
our antennae orphaned meanders decaying into sewers
our adult fantasies of occupancy famously thriving
of promiscuity booming... now drastically fondled into resolutive disease
sentenced anew to the sharp apprehension
that we nonetheless must agree to the disquieting proceeds
ensuing from our contempt for the boring injunctions
that had every insanitary foe (and more with a yen for incorporate space)
sent packing down a uniquely paved velvety shortcut
to the indiscriminate pulp of the anonymous tomb
...
but wait... down the road
awkward crows in embarrassment discovered
from scratching the muddy wastes where devils once dwelt
the coincident shares of our flaming oils
and hence they were relatively thankful for the triumph
of annihilation for – must they have inferred – what better fate
for an intellect of our lurid genre that to be immersed in the fluency
of foulness... the skills we showed in maintaining always the incoherent
rages of childhood... reverting every chance we got into the mainstream legacy
of pride... made us as them right deservers of another feathery shrug
a feathery shrug indeed
all invaded with
eerie
humanoids
tinily
engrossing
as the hours ticked
Subscriure's a:
Missatges (Atom)
more Carles Reig
chock-a-block
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