The River in the Capsule (26-50)

The River in the Capsule (26-50)- second delivery

The River in the Capsule (first 25 leaves)

The River in the Capsule (sing the ,miners, cicada-like) - (1986) first

The River in the Capsule by Carles Reig (1986) [first delivery]

Beautiful dancer

Beautiful dancer


Oh what a beautiful dancer — is cancer!
It pirouettes at the end of each of the assizes — and it metastasizes!
And then performs a pas de quatre — in a lovely pitter-patter
Pounding lungs liver bone and brain — with corrosive feet of acid rain.

more of the same (through the same glass, from different angles?)

Outside the waiting cone, inside as bolt-bestowing Jupiter she


(Outside)


The vigilant isolated cone


His lamentation a wonder waning down the fading hedgerows
with night his infatuation as queer cosmologies
are amid snores drawn
vain metamorphoses among the cobblestones

and weeps the wind
and the progress of the horses’ lips is something to behold
anomalies of a martyr in triumph unmasked

vague bricolage of rotting driftwood
adorns his hirsute skull

the lava of abstruse dialogue pounding his heart
with the archipelagian intricacy of a sorrowful paranoid

metabolizing all these perfectly coherent seawaves of sympathies
so that the outpour becomes in stupor the pith
(the evil abject wisdom-filled pith)
of the insidious puppet whose archaic hat – its tip – crateral spouts
(never ashamed of its acerbic cruelty)
the cathartic stabs of the richly pledgeful sophist
with gloves of acquiescent semiotics
as the foundering orchestra of the tempest has lost delirium

foreshortened peak of conspicuous anonymity
neither epileptic nor grisly
nor any longer harvesting risks and stunts
nor yet gaining harmonic momentum
as for now the old cadence
stunted falters...
and dies.


(***)



(Inside)



from the kitchen window, she


it’s the adventure of the universe —
going nowhere fast —
noisy flares, bursts galore, signifying shit

alas once more the aircastle collapses... utterly


(...)


next thing she knew the doorbell tolled

something bilious this way comes


(...)


the fetus being the phallus

she fucks me with the newest son of some lover

that lover’s latest son enters me
even before he has altogether exited her

oh mystical trinity
wrapped in triphthongs
soon converted into another trivial carnal quadrangle
even a quincunx
(who knows)


(...)


follows the appointment
the appointment (duly dully met) of scabrous sentences
in a background where a plangent violin casts its cobwebs

shameful wasp trapped
in their crudest most arcane recesses
leaking like a raincoat

incipits of otiose melodies where with grotesque anguishes
the tenacious nymphomaniac
seduces the rotting lured sacrificial simulacrum


(...)


choked by the sneaky snake

intimations of exorbitant techniques

somehow I’m sure that such eucharist
turns the pungent quondam androgynous


(...)


embryo’s elixirs whose absorptions prove an ecstasy of sorts

but uterus thieving is the emblem of the satirist

a truce; a truce, will you?


(...)


bleeding aspersions collect a phantasmagoria of sublime convictions
as the chasm of routines gapes monotonous


(...)


we’ve faced the violation with seeds courageous
and poisons futile

with the fluency of the mnemonist
I’ve descried great billows and frenetic shipwrecks
broken telescopes and several other intricacies
in the naivete of the tiny aquarium


(...)


predatory innocence
ephemeral anxieties

the gutter is no tightrope


(...)


with the advent of the senile yawn of the earth
the cuckold whips up his ludicrous impulses

into its fungible void the parasite’s been caught


(...)


the panic of insomnia
gives way to the won aesthetics

newly replenished, the profaned hole
by lyres lauded
teasingly hears tame aubades


(...)


ah the luxuries and feverish cinema
of a schoolgirl’s erotic phenomena

betwixt sundry cosmetics
accessories
and saucissons!


(…)


wait, the rancidity of sweat
the groans and sanctimonies
the circumspect trespass of the unfaithful aurifex
plus a knot of vestiges of distaste

convoluted cormorant of the promiscuous and abhorrent

all in all, humped sinistrous, the lubricious epilogue


(...)


with venereal abrasive harmonies
of forensic intricate tautologies
and splenetic disconsolatingly erotic oxymorons
in prodigious scale the jewel’s been lost


(...)


and now the punctuated sequels

one, the voiding inaccessible
two, the tumescence borderline
three, the chaos of moths...

the fungal tropes
the atrophied hyperboles
the inharmonic knees

the anachronistic witness
his basket of fantasies

the epistemic orphan
the marooned ballerina

the erratic bucolic nonsense
the wrecked athlete

the benevolence of the deathbed

plus
the enigmatic levity of distilled snow.


////

An X, not an Y

An X, not an Y



She's not happy coming down the stairs
with her green wide-winged hat
and her green close-fitting dress
so elegant she and kind of divine
but no, she's not glad at all today
having just had notice that all her children
had been killed abroad.

We that are left are not allowed to enjoy the day
the sand the crickets the écrevisses... nothing
nor the helpless wee birds just born into the hot ice.

Sad, we've got to be also sad
we've got to check our enjoyment of life
our greediness for what our senses sense.

And so through the night full of bourdonnements
button by button slowly until the dark cape's undone.

She's such a vision though
when with the sun she tosses away her green dress
and walks naked down the strand.

All nature revives then and my dreams with it
and into the white clean clothes the tip of my tippity prick.

How eager then all for her benediction
unfledged birds naked insects fetuses... all.

And me an earth-filtering worm squirmy of contentment
definitively annexed
definitively annexed now to her all pure purple core!

sip sip and something else

tapering off the undulating ululated oaths



plus... (plus... hold tight, for here it comes...) (I’m joking)

holding tight to the ghastly heavens
the strategies of noxious soiled corners...
their seizure over the inhabitants is a classic of intimacy

any sweep squeezed through the littery banality of wonderland routines
even if repulsive as the rudest of solipsisms
instils a fog of reasons and goals worthy enough to be imagined in a ceremony
of intelligence across the autumnal system of preliminary curiosities...

what’s left if not the sycophantic twin fugitive anarchies of light and torture?
(ha ha... clever!)

the peristaltic anecdotes brim with obstreperous copulations
and a frivolous accretion of other healthy catastrophes

the old susurrus of the whore aesthetics that earlier arose misused
contemporarily through a process of scandalous landscapes regain substance

only that the shrinking of the sphere impinges on the mind
psychotic devious abuses are rife
both titans and servants... their grimy nerves wrinkle in exasperation
a conundrum is the (deflating) result
where insane rituals forcibly intervene
fakeries (what’s new?) stand vicarious on the pantheon

a bath of bald fervent senility is encouraged
its squalid consequences impugn any argument

all supine as they sip (sip sip)
apologizing the while and underhanded to the waste implicit in one’s brain

ceremonies rush in (you said it)
voices through giant pierced bones... annoying whining swearings
(useless useless) wagers clearly infernal
ostensible haunting lurid hysterias

outlaws prosper (when didn’t they?) by degrees
the rotting waves of legifying authorities (vain outlaws themselves)
their soft devastations... their pretty homicides always allowed by judges
lethargic puerile motiveless (in complicity)

cohesion amongst the exiled colleagues is never invalidated...

the vexed are farmed out for extermination
a traffic of shrikes
an underworld of withering courage... of languid scented lethality...

the originating types wiped flat out

the rest sending their bleary lidless eyes aloft
toward the domestic ceilings
reclusive unassisted
shelling the sundry episodes out of curiosity
the risks once taken... the oaths uttered...
the weightless ephemerides unsounded

a toasted slap to our consensual slot
the dominance spectrum tenaciously deceives every facet of the stereotype

chameleonizing oneself according to the labyrinthian peculiarities
shifting the degree of depiction... pithy new tendencies emerge

rejecting all antagonism... the epochs... their arrow collapses

the specter of food... a structure glued with alarm
comminates anyone to evisceration

the wolves’ candidate vehemently erodes any satire from the subconscious
intrepid antagonist who concocts orphan gothic banalities
by refusing to shove in or even invoke about any verdict

the rest parade faintly fed
with a clumsy mask embalmed
their optimistic obituaries impress joy of a certain kind

cloying pimps
vindictive denizens whose amnesic fingers sap the historical doctrines
fool eavesdroppers devoted to corruption and wither
rhetorical authoritarians assaulting the blurred benevolence of the abolished structures

the title-holders trying to persuade the reluctant that all crimes of aggression
are a refreshing success for the skin of the heinous planet
the eloquent always... the eloquent and their lapses where every logic is traduced
(I’m lost... lost)

only the wittols are capable of shedding as scattering statues
the bright charismatic torchings of optimism
over the absent serpent that veers to further opacity
as they accommodate themselves to every emancipatory dilemma

are we just subordinate entities flushed up by dumb contingency
and bound non-stop to hidings strenuous
as those to which the anonymous have always been prone

or... or...? (were you going to say something else
you piece of viscous crap?)

for there’s no clarity as the one brought by the wearisome quarry of skepticism
(agh... agh... I’m gagging...
what a vile... vile... vile conclusion... again!)