The Project Gutenberg eBook ofMascara-Viscera

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofMascara-VisceraThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.*** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook. Details Below. ****** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. ***Title: Mascara-VisceraAuthor: Paul Cameron BrownRelease date: February 4, 2010 [eBook #31181]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Sorour Imani*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASCARA-VISCERA ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

*** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook. Details Below. ****** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. ***

*** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook. Details Below. ***

*** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. ***

Title: Mascara-VisceraAuthor: Paul Cameron BrownRelease date: February 4, 2010 [eBook #31181]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Sorour Imani

Title: Mascara-Viscera

Author: Paul Cameron Brown

Release date: February 4, 2010 [eBook #31181]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Sorour Imani

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MASCARA-VISCERA ***

MASCARA-VISCERAByPaul Cameron Brown

Foreword Page"The voyage of the best shipis a zigzag line ofa hundred tacks".Emerson

"The voyage of the best shipis a zigzag line ofa hundred tacks".Emerson

9Flashpoint10Marzipan11Santo Domingo12White China Plates I14White China Plates II15Mail Drop16Headdress17Airbrush18Swords and Roses20Moonrock21Smokestack22Tickings of a Clock23Flashpoint24Equinox26Penny Wise, Pound Poor28Metaphor29Embers30Skin31Asgard32Old Brompton Road33Street Scene34Curse of The Downtown Trade35In My Books36Made in Space37Godiva38Pelée39Pelée: May 8, 190240Electra41Sideway Look42Lolita Gardens43Unpaginated45Sequin46Yellow Hair47Piltdown Man49Spanked50The Crowkeeper51Cuando-Cubango52Onomatopoeia53At the Red Throat55Shamrock56Lost Patrol57Blackamoor59Up from the Floor60Men of Shade61Knight-Errant63Water Fast (The Pearl Fishers)65Tales of a Brave Ulysses66Inside Seam68Debriefing70Naiad Trance72Pyromania73Tide Charts75Village Idiot76Clippership77Flood78Kipper, Tea and Oranges79Tank-top80Viewer Mail81Seagulls82Imagistic83Living Room84High Roller88The Garden89Canvassing90Comments

FLASHPOINT1The moon has a larderand a kitchen,wears a nightcapas Father in the Night Before Christmas.2The moon hoards pistachios,marzipancommands the shadowsis mustachioedsleeps in a sloop(at least when I look)like the boatowl and pussycattook to sea.3And on country nightsin high summerfishing nets seem drawnabout his face,reveal ribbons of light,eerie panhandlers grubbing quarters;a sinister sailor with a sackon a pitch black wharf.4Between clouds,leafy barquesthe hinge reflected on thethick, ashen doorthe moon will pirateyour sensesset them adriftamidst twilight islandsin the mind's Outer Hebrideswhere mystery is kingand the hem of robe you kissis an envelope pilfered.[9]

1The moon has a larderand a kitchen,wears a nightcapas Father in the Night Before Christmas.2The moon hoards pistachios,marzipancommands the shadowsis mustachioedsleeps in a sloop(at least when I look)like the boatowl and pussycattook to sea.3And on country nightsin high summerfishing nets seem drawnabout his face,reveal ribbons of light,eerie panhandlers grubbing quarters;a sinister sailor with a sackon a pitch black wharf.4Between clouds,leafy barquesthe hinge reflected on thethick, ashen doorthe moon will pirateyour sensesset them adriftamidst twilight islandsin the mind's Outer Hebrideswhere mystery is kingand the hem of robe you kissis an envelope pilfered.[9]

MARZIPAN1A thick hole in the darkfrom whichstars pour silveras in pailstheir runny divideink-strewn scalpstorn from the roof of the sky.2Padded footprintsgiant ferns bloomingconstellation prints,the wind an athletepacing about a trackdrying thru fingerprintsthin, nectarine light.3Sand down whitest skinmoving past your handa gown, mauve to green,iceberg lettuce,the black festeringacross a ribcage;while night arrangesmoths to dusting powderpucker-lippedfronds from afar4Afar, the word a gypsytangled in the waves,foam from a medicine bottleagitated and strewn,bubbles calculated in gaspslight into the distanceforlorntree-frogs, the cricketsound round deep--movement of night asa rumbling in the ground,[10]

1A thick hole in the darkfrom whichstars pour silveras in pailstheir runny divideink-strewn scalpstorn from the roof of the sky.2Padded footprintsgiant ferns bloomingconstellation prints,the wind an athletepacing about a trackdrying thru fingerprintsthin, nectarine light.3Sand down whitest skinmoving past your handa gown, mauve to green,iceberg lettuce,the black festeringacross a ribcage;while night arrangesmoths to dusting powderpucker-lippedfronds from afar4Afar, the word a gypsytangled in the waves,foam from a medicine bottleagitated and strewn,bubbles calculated in gaspslight into the distanceforlorntree-frogs, the cricketsound round deep--movement of night asa rumbling in the ground,[10]

SANTO DOMINGOIn the crypt with Columbusin the crypt with Giovanniof Genoa, the diaspora driven Jew;watching flecks of the cathedral floorjade-eyed and mica afraidyawning down brown the abyss, his skeletal coffinthin accae wood,phlegm colouredflamed ointmentof the saintsin holy waterbridging the little centuries.2Serpentine heavensin coiled starsheaving like passion fruithung down piano wire.3Meteors douse the lightof black stems,eye holes cut of old Spanishsailors; thin ghostsplundering night.4Melange tableauxpeut-étre les étoilessont oiseaux.[11]

In the crypt with Columbusin the crypt with Giovanniof Genoa, the diaspora driven Jew;watching flecks of the cathedral floorjade-eyed and mica afraidyawning down brown the abyss, his skeletal coffinthin accae wood,phlegm colouredflamed ointmentof the saintsin holy waterbridging the little centuries.2Serpentine heavensin coiled starsheaving like passion fruithung down piano wire.3Meteors douse the lightof black stems,eye holes cut of old Spanishsailors; thin ghostsplundering night.4Melange tableauxpeut-étre les étoilessont oiseaux.[11]

WHITE CHINA PLATES IThe moon hummed like a refrigerator,light thru shadows--the solitude of dusk closing in;black scars visible acrossthe moon's face shaped likemountainous hands, allsilent, the occasional leaf rustling.2My fork at plate's edge listening,listening to the haunting one eyeon the staircase wall whiteas the numb light outside palest night.Caught off-guard, the musty setteeand armchair acting as hallucinogento the nostril, the calendar of eventsplaying ghostly tag with sheer curtainshovering, shroud-like, on the family Biblebig and brown as the Lord's foot stool.3The unravelling tale slowly much asthick yarn with a kittenbatting it, one event at a timein sepulchre movement down alinoleum floor. Two twins burning,fever scalded in frigid water onlyshock setting in, dying to jointhe black creek water from whichher unwilling buckets borrowedthis liquid crucifixion and bitter vinegar.4Or the drive-house door, silent in precision,unseen hands before maraudinghoofs in unison dark from windows' edgeto better hear little poke ofsleigh bells or harness rattling grimwith a sick man's cough.5This admission of spectral animalssomehow more unsettling thanthe young woman next combing herhair at the foot of the bed scaringthe daylights out of me picturingthe whereabouts of stockinged feet,these tricksters from another world;drum and kettle corps gypsy fifewith harbinger doom to rasp offalling broom--old and yellow silky straw witch's hair--and a cat darkas the Devil's very bread.[12]

The moon hummed like a refrigerator,light thru shadows--the solitude of dusk closing in;black scars visible acrossthe moon's face shaped likemountainous hands, allsilent, the occasional leaf rustling.2My fork at plate's edge listening,listening to the haunting one eyeon the staircase wall whiteas the numb light outside palest night.Caught off-guard, the musty setteeand armchair acting as hallucinogento the nostril, the calendar of eventsplaying ghostly tag with sheer curtainshovering, shroud-like, on the family Biblebig and brown as the Lord's foot stool.3The unravelling tale slowly much asthick yarn with a kittenbatting it, one event at a timein sepulchre movement down alinoleum floor. Two twins burning,fever scalded in frigid water onlyshock setting in, dying to jointhe black creek water from whichher unwilling buckets borrowedthis liquid crucifixion and bitter vinegar.4Or the drive-house door, silent in precision,unseen hands before maraudinghoofs in unison dark from windows' edgeto better hear little poke ofsleigh bells or harness rattling grimwith a sick man's cough.5This admission of spectral animalssomehow more unsettling thanthe young woman next combing herhair at the foot of the bed scaringthe daylights out of me picturingthe whereabouts of stockinged feet,these tricksters from another world;drum and kettle corps gypsy fifewith harbinger doom to rasp offalling broom--old and yellow silky straw witch's hair--and a cat darkas the Devil's very bread.[12]

WHITE CHINA PLATES IIYou could have drivena pick-up truckthru spokes of that moon, so big and radiantthis upended water chestnut--ground mist weepingin the shadowsflutter of an old woman's shawl,the clammy smell likea child's fingers to the face,a little unsettlingcrickets and dew in brigadesrunning tears on the oldshoe leather.[14]

You could have drivena pick-up truckthru spokes of that moon, so big and radiantthis upended water chestnut--ground mist weepingin the shadowsflutter of an old woman's shawl,the clammy smell likea child's fingers to the face,a little unsettlingcrickets and dew in brigadesrunning tears on the oldshoe leather.[14]

MAIL DROPA boat sits on the very shallowsof a lakein egg-cup fashion,a tea-cosy covering waves,orchestrating the bob of coloursin white enamel blueinverted water.Afar, the boat is a rasher of bacona strip, stripling, stipendslicing the lake,distancing.The boat is an envelopeat the end of the world,planet-sized, pea-greenabout to spin crazilyinto the sun at theend of a rifle-sizedmail drop.The boat rides amid thebetween places of things,furtive longingswhere crones sit withinwaiting bushes &lizards visit skin,dirge of teeth gnashingthe fringe canopy offlowing leaves.[15]

A boat sits on the very shallowsof a lakein egg-cup fashion,a tea-cosy covering waves,orchestrating the bob of coloursin white enamel blueinverted water.Afar, the boat is a rasher of bacona strip, stripling, stipendslicing the lake,distancing.The boat is an envelopeat the end of the world,planet-sized, pea-greenabout to spin crazilyinto the sun at theend of a rifle-sizedmail drop.The boat rides amid thebetween places of things,furtive longingswhere crones sit withinwaiting bushes &lizards visit skin,dirge of teeth gnashingthe fringe canopy offlowing leaves.[15]

HEADDRESSStravinsky's Firebird,Debussy's La Merlilting arrangement like a windmillwith a little Hottentot of a birdscurrying over leaveslike hot coals,nest a pudding arrangement,oven-shaped,dappled with a string.She is alternativelylady of the green shoots,Empress of an Andes of twigsfor this cow-pie upendedbetween treesis fortress and manor,blockhouse and Maginot Linecareening between the branchesmuch as a slothtoe amblesacross the roof of a forestgingerly stepping on noise,clinging to velvet footpads,sitting between shadowswithin the roar of a clearing.[16]

Stravinsky's Firebird,Debussy's La Merlilting arrangement like a windmillwith a little Hottentot of a birdscurrying over leaveslike hot coals,nest a pudding arrangement,oven-shaped,dappled with a string.She is alternativelylady of the green shoots,Empress of an Andes of twigsfor this cow-pie upendedbetween treesis fortress and manor,blockhouse and Maginot Linecareening between the branchesmuch as a slothtoe amblesacross the roof of a forestgingerly stepping on noise,clinging to velvet footpads,sitting between shadowswithin the roar of a clearing.[16]

AIRBRUSHIced coffee,wedge of toast--the sun poking thrucranberry glassdelights exquisite Duchess of Berry,her decanters & an hourglass.Halo-hello in your fingertipsI said,to a cadaver of lightboldly striking a tuning forkto ring an engagementof gold flecksby your bed.Limoges vasefor lace and pretty underthingsfor outside the streamsteals my interest,wearing tumbledown silk pyjamasand a peek-a-boo smile that pointsthru reed curtains.A rustle from her chemiseand sun parasol parts green boudoirdraping shiny, black rock.The muddle of this earth-time puzzle,brief flutter to the eyelid's butter--I saw match-flarecrocheted into the snake eyesof your dress.[17]

Iced coffee,wedge of toast--the sun poking thrucranberry glassdelights exquisite Duchess of Berry,her decanters & an hourglass.Halo-hello in your fingertipsI said,to a cadaver of lightboldly striking a tuning forkto ring an engagementof gold flecksby your bed.Limoges vasefor lace and pretty underthingsfor outside the streamsteals my interest,wearing tumbledown silk pyjamasand a peek-a-boo smile that pointsthru reed curtains.A rustle from her chemiseand sun parasol parts green boudoirdraping shiny, black rock.The muddle of this earth-time puzzle,brief flutter to the eyelid's butter--I saw match-flarecrocheted into the snake eyesof your dress.[17]

SWORDS AND ROSESSome lives have themes.Goldfish that stubbornly die;compatability only with distant lovers--flowers (but no sweet-breads)that wilt to the touch.Waiting. Charcoal-grey catagreeably on a green linoleum tablewith light basking in....a tad playful,paws up,(classic boxer stance)but no one notices.Others oblique in their transparency,are unmindful of even the empty closetand greeting cards that smile hello.In the darkthis room shimmers belowlife-raft status;chairs are buoysbobbing under wavesof congealed fright.In the morningthe first pigeonsrifle over rooftops,mad flutterings like your eyesstabbing gables looking curiouslylike your heart.A tree bandaged in woodmanages a feeble handshakewith sky cajoling winter.But it is the moon,large and eerie,a golden earringmindful of a Chinese pandathat plies its trade.Mandarin-like, a snoutso cloud-entrenchedsoft night barely resembleswillow and bamboo shootsthe universe left to feed her.Nuggets or nougats?Should I call you "opaque",use coke-bottle glass as asymbol of light-headedness, transparency?Keen vision?Could it be more is known of outer spacethan your mindor that leaves,frosted with cold,are conducting interviewsmaliciously within the park fold?Rather (and this is so circumspect)no one owes anyonein the brisk coinage and tradethat breeds human waste ...So drivel passes as conversation,a handshake for real investment.A lot in common, the wrong dreams.Pretty awareness, the desolate penniesstumble from our hands.More substance, really,in the rustle of a silk dressor static electricitythat pops over orb-sized breasts.Hide and seekpeek a boo,you don't need meI don't need you.[18]

Some lives have themes.Goldfish that stubbornly die;compatability only with distant lovers--flowers (but no sweet-breads)that wilt to the touch.Waiting. Charcoal-grey catagreeably on a green linoleum tablewith light basking in....a tad playful,paws up,(classic boxer stance)but no one notices.Others oblique in their transparency,are unmindful of even the empty closetand greeting cards that smile hello.In the darkthis room shimmers belowlife-raft status;chairs are buoysbobbing under wavesof congealed fright.In the morningthe first pigeonsrifle over rooftops,mad flutterings like your eyesstabbing gables looking curiouslylike your heart.A tree bandaged in woodmanages a feeble handshakewith sky cajoling winter.But it is the moon,large and eerie,a golden earringmindful of a Chinese pandathat plies its trade.Mandarin-like, a snoutso cloud-entrenchedsoft night barely resembleswillow and bamboo shootsthe universe left to feed her.Nuggets or nougats?Should I call you "opaque",use coke-bottle glass as asymbol of light-headedness, transparency?Keen vision?Could it be more is known of outer spacethan your mindor that leaves,frosted with cold,are conducting interviewsmaliciously within the park fold?Rather (and this is so circumspect)no one owes anyonein the brisk coinage and tradethat breeds human waste ...So drivel passes as conversation,a handshake for real investment.A lot in common, the wrong dreams.Pretty awareness, the desolate penniesstumble from our hands.More substance, really,in the rustle of a silk dressor static electricitythat pops over orb-sized breasts.Hide and seekpeek a boo,you don't need meI don't need you.[18]

MOONROCKShe wears a cat encrusted T-shirt& panties with L*O*V*Eguarding the Paradise door& when balm of nightcasts shadows,her face is moonrockdistant to mysteriousdown storybook crags;her darling form cloakedin twilight garmentsof an inky earth.Gates of Venus,. . . as if feline whiskerswhispered, wan cat eyesin amber dark glowed pale honeyin alchemy or blur of soft movementwas caress to stars' elopementwith the sky.This woman summons fire,stokes furnaces to quicken parchment leavesof flame-thick desire,honed soft on ripplesskin tones were curvaceousdrift of oars, vivacious breast on buttock'sdoor, more moisture beadholding regal court,this prance down wet & downy stair.Rain is a swift messengerpaw printswith descent of nightwhere moonbecomes a plaything ofclouds' passion,and pincushionupward surge ofclammy earth.[20]

She wears a cat encrusted T-shirt& panties with L*O*V*Eguarding the Paradise door& when balm of nightcasts shadows,her face is moonrockdistant to mysteriousdown storybook crags;her darling form cloakedin twilight garmentsof an inky earth.Gates of Venus,. . . as if feline whiskerswhispered, wan cat eyesin amber dark glowed pale honeyin alchemy or blur of soft movementwas caress to stars' elopementwith the sky.This woman summons fire,stokes furnaces to quicken parchment leavesof flame-thick desire,honed soft on ripplesskin tones were curvaceousdrift of oars, vivacious breast on buttock'sdoor, more moisture beadholding regal court,this prance down wet & downy stair.Rain is a swift messengerpaw printswith descent of nightwhere moonbecomes a plaything ofclouds' passion,and pincushionupward surge ofclammy earth.[20]

SMOKESTACKA small fish,its colorsembersamid the swirling water;reminiscent of acafé in darkness--the smokestack tablecloth flutteringin the matchbox breeze.[21]

A small fish,its colorsembersamid the swirling water;reminiscent of acafé in darkness--the smokestack tablecloth flutteringin the matchbox breeze.[21]

TICKINGS OF A CLOCKI began to see old lanterns, booksopening/folding within your eyes;a pale light running as silverto the sea.Then crestfallen leaves danglingas from fishhooks or the autumn moon'sskeletal lightness tossing a pathbetween waves over this sidewalk, that,with the back streets passing occasionalhisses at the main culprit, night.The prim measurement of your smile,not the wan neglect of cool skin tonesor fabric always more suggestiveof summer colours, sideway movementof shadow into tickings of a clock.Rather mist and clamminess,lipstick in a smear as athumbprint before thecoughing of a motorcaras its elliptical wedgetears darknessaway from sight.[22]

I began to see old lanterns, booksopening/folding within your eyes;a pale light running as silverto the sea.Then crestfallen leaves danglingas from fishhooks or the autumn moon'sskeletal lightness tossing a pathbetween waves over this sidewalk, that,with the back streets passing occasionalhisses at the main culprit, night.The prim measurement of your smile,not the wan neglect of cool skin tonesor fabric always more suggestiveof summer colours, sideway movementof shadow into tickings of a clock.Rather mist and clamminess,lipstick in a smear as athumbprint before thecoughing of a motorcaras its elliptical wedgetears darknessaway from sight.[22]

FLASHPOINTCHOPSTICKSOnly marginal chancesof finding a Great Whitein my coffeealthough the cigaret's tubular bellyis flotsam against my hand--a dirty kerosene color, sleek & grey.2And stirring the embers of my cup,suppose the grinds become primitive shark loreof forgotten peoples or death sticks,dry rot teeth, fathomssquinting light.[23]

Only marginal chancesof finding a Great Whitein my coffeealthough the cigaret's tubular bellyis flotsam against my hand--a dirty kerosene color, sleek & grey.2And stirring the embers of my cup,suppose the grinds become primitive shark loreof forgotten peoples or death sticks,dry rot teeth, fathomssquinting light.[23]

EQUINOXThe four Equinox sisters,the one, Fox, streaked--all color, a blura Bloomingdale's on fire,a wedge between Everest& her fortune.Samantha, the otherdun-colouredearth-tide (in full bloom),blossoms vernally & literallybusting out of her breeches witheyes like barely sugar.Jubilee. Fête de la vie.Lighthouse keeper beckoning twinshafts of warmth. Camberwell Beauty.Rattan Bar, shooting star.Carraciou (and castanet) an evening song,the most buxom but with dog days & tiresome moodsflushed with heat.Tidewater in full ripple, amurmuring of abstract intelligenceorchestrating summer's growth.Emerald keeper. Silken flaxbeguiling smile, wiggling toes.A stickler for detail, she was (with endlesscontortions) always in the grass.Brumaire, evaporating vapors,the most withdrawn &difficult to know--a dead leaf combed thruwind-swept hair.Infernally inclined, a modicumof sparse economy idly knotting ice thrua cadaver fence before putting on a brave show--her stern beauty and most commanding feature, snow,shone like almonds or stars twinkling froman anorexic fist.Alabaster, her prison whitenessthis Brumaire.A clock, pier,immovable, still.Firing up the flashlightin the dark likebeautiful woods sleeping.[24]

The four Equinox sisters,the one, Fox, streaked--all color, a blura Bloomingdale's on fire,a wedge between Everest& her fortune.Samantha, the otherdun-colouredearth-tide (in full bloom),blossoms vernally & literallybusting out of her breeches witheyes like barely sugar.Jubilee. Fête de la vie.Lighthouse keeper beckoning twinshafts of warmth. Camberwell Beauty.Rattan Bar, shooting star.Carraciou (and castanet) an evening song,the most buxom but with dog days & tiresome moodsflushed with heat.Tidewater in full ripple, amurmuring of abstract intelligenceorchestrating summer's growth.Emerald keeper. Silken flaxbeguiling smile, wiggling toes.A stickler for detail, she was (with endlesscontortions) always in the grass.Brumaire, evaporating vapors,the most withdrawn &difficult to know--a dead leaf combed thruwind-swept hair.Infernally inclined, a modicumof sparse economy idly knotting ice thrua cadaver fence before putting on a brave show--her stern beauty and most commanding feature, snow,shone like almonds or stars twinkling froman anorexic fist.Alabaster, her prison whitenessthis Brumaire.A clock, pier,immovable, still.Firing up the flashlightin the dark likebeautiful woods sleeping.[24]

PENNY WISE, POUND POORFall was a tubercular cousinresiding in the countrysparse hair,rasping cough.2Night air was damagingstringing pumpkinsaround orange chains, themilkweed pod shiveringin open shirtsleeveslittle noises siftingfrom burrows in her chest.3Fall was...reputedly from another countrywore glaring cravats,gold leaf and Rubenesque chain;stalked the larkmocked the breeze.4Penny wise, pound poorleavesa shock of hairprematurely whitedegradingly picked fromthe combflung out firefliescrisp bodies to singefire-cold light.5Advancing stairsin poor light,the season became makeshiftwallpaperhung by tedious hands.Little seep of plaster dirtescaping the touch,grass bristled by frostwhere occasional flowerwas torched with coldsavaged beesstumbled from the weeds.[26]

Fall was a tubercular cousinresiding in the countrysparse hair,rasping cough.2Night air was damagingstringing pumpkinsaround orange chains, themilkweed pod shiveringin open shirtsleeveslittle noises siftingfrom burrows in her chest.3Fall was...reputedly from another countrywore glaring cravats,gold leaf and Rubenesque chain;stalked the larkmocked the breeze.4Penny wise, pound poorleavesa shock of hairprematurely whitedegradingly picked fromthe combflung out firefliescrisp bodies to singefire-cold light.5Advancing stairsin poor light,the season became makeshiftwallpaperhung by tedious hands.Little seep of plaster dirtescaping the touch,grass bristled by frostwhere occasional flowerwas torched with coldsavaged beesstumbled from the weeds.[26]

METAPHORThere is a star nearthe hinge of planets,a barn undera cow's lick of moon--plausible peoplemoving thru anairless universe.Pay attention to the frond of lilac. . . limestone troughs upon whichthickets of Indian scalp &devil's paintbrush soarto the horizonand, afterwards,little creeks runwith the sparrows of evening timein step to tiny boatmenthat echo enamelled snailsfrom the very consonants of earth.Rustle of leaves,some might arguebreathless gaspsto intone the savageryof little seasonal voicescut offmid-stream.A spate of bees,early colonizersdeflower blossoms andstrip-mine lava butter of eruptinghard-shell tulips:such careless penetrations--volcanic intrusions entombtheir hairy bodies caked withthe iron-lung of blackened soot petals,each a cough dropon the heaving breathof a declining afternoon.[28]

There is a star nearthe hinge of planets,a barn undera cow's lick of moon--plausible peoplemoving thru anairless universe.Pay attention to the frond of lilac. . . limestone troughs upon whichthickets of Indian scalp &devil's paintbrush soarto the horizonand, afterwards,little creeks runwith the sparrows of evening timein step to tiny boatmenthat echo enamelled snailsfrom the very consonants of earth.Rustle of leaves,some might arguebreathless gaspsto intone the savageryof little seasonal voicescut offmid-stream.A spate of bees,early colonizersdeflower blossoms andstrip-mine lava butter of eruptinghard-shell tulips:such careless penetrations--volcanic intrusions entombtheir hairy bodies caked withthe iron-lung of blackened soot petals,each a cough dropon the heaving breathof a declining afternoon.[28]

EMBERSAs you enter into dream--its the unconsciousnesswhich stifles,the thin emberscalled flamethat outdistancethe controlled rubricof desire.[29]

As you enter into dream--its the unconsciousnesswhich stifles,the thin emberscalled flamethat outdistancethe controlled rubricof desire.[29]

SKINHer emerald topphosphorescent candy glowstick candy,sno' cane--floss likethe mane revealed beneath,spun hair matted/woven intoicicle lengths & pubis mink.Her presence as a monk slidingunder a cowl, jet-black velvetor midnight eye-liner shadowknotting strands of dark.She comes on waves--candelabra is a namedeft movement of fingercaressing storm, bare legsshining wet street lampsdecantered ambered wine.Cigarette floating between lips,uncharted voyage of the smilewhere puffs of smokeare parrots' wings,incandescent show-girlsin novelty across the flame.[30]

Her emerald topphosphorescent candy glowstick candy,sno' cane--floss likethe mane revealed beneath,spun hair matted/woven intoicicle lengths & pubis mink.Her presence as a monk slidingunder a cowl, jet-black velvetor midnight eye-liner shadowknotting strands of dark.She comes on waves--candelabra is a namedeft movement of fingercaressing storm, bare legsshining wet street lampsdecantered ambered wine.Cigarette floating between lips,uncharted voyage of the smilewhere puffs of smokeare parrots' wings,incandescent show-girlsin novelty across the flame.[30]

ASGARDIn the ardourof an Asgard firesee adders from hervinous fire peradua ad astra.Listen to the wind--the ageless, intoning wind,a sea-hag encrusted ona mattress of waves.Cat's footfall,breath of fishthe flowering beard of a woman.[31]

In the ardourof an Asgard firesee adders from hervinous fire peradua ad astra.Listen to the wind--the ageless, intoning wind,a sea-hag encrusted ona mattress of waves.Cat's footfall,breath of fishthe flowering beard of a woman.[31]

OLD BROMPTON ROAD"Death is but a sleep"quaint rationalizationeven to Revolutionaries.Think of Robespierreholding his bleeding jawor Marat outside--eyeing the inscription,scofula no longer distracting whiletepidly emptying bath water.2Dreams, poetry of painting,deathly pastel shades alongsidegranite canyonsentwined with rosebuds and leaves--bone horseshoes clanking in the dark.3Catch basin, drainage ditchupon which the raspberryparts its tendrils andhuman remains, the loathingof the living ("not dead yet...."...appropriate obscenity:)scrawled on one Victorianmortuary, windows knocked out,coffins in full view ahand's reach away on a daredignitaries in a pile pried loose;one, few years hence acrossthe Channel, sworn enemyto the French.[32]

"Death is but a sleep"quaint rationalizationeven to Revolutionaries.Think of Robespierreholding his bleeding jawor Marat outside--eyeing the inscription,scofula no longer distracting whiletepidly emptying bath water.2Dreams, poetry of painting,deathly pastel shades alongsidegranite canyonsentwined with rosebuds and leaves--bone horseshoes clanking in the dark.3Catch basin, drainage ditchupon which the raspberryparts its tendrils andhuman remains, the loathingof the living ("not dead yet...."...appropriate obscenity:)scrawled on one Victorianmortuary, windows knocked out,coffins in full view ahand's reach away on a daredignitaries in a pile pried loose;one, few years hence acrossthe Channel, sworn enemyto the French.[32]

STREET SCENENo open bargecrowded with nameless waifsor junks in a teeming harbour--just odours spilling froma back alley,stair wells littered with cheap sakibottles, one proppedto rifle the door.[33]

No open bargecrowded with nameless waifsor junks in a teeming harbour--just odours spilling froma back alley,stair wells littered with cheap sakibottles, one proppedto rifle the door.[33]

Curse of The Downtown TradeForeword Page[34]

IN MY BOOKSThe way I figure it, a number of people areout of control at any given time ...gin rummy & hockey notwithstanding.Mickey bottles and varicose veinsare sure signs of indulgenceas are, proof-positive, speed-traps &roll your own Black Cat.Sure 'nuff, even Sunday driving standsat the motor edge of frenzy whileMom's apple pie is little more than just peaches & creamhome baked greed.Take stock car racing or the trots, Little Orphan AnnieComics or Budweiser. Vice, like charity, starts at home.Each curtails a larger problem and self worshipbegins the moment your zipper opens.[35]

The way I figure it, a number of people areout of control at any given time ...gin rummy & hockey notwithstanding.Mickey bottles and varicose veinsare sure signs of indulgenceas are, proof-positive, speed-traps &roll your own Black Cat.Sure 'nuff, even Sunday driving standsat the motor edge of frenzy whileMom's apple pie is little more than just peaches & creamhome baked greed.Take stock car racing or the trots, Little Orphan AnnieComics or Budweiser. Vice, like charity, starts at home.Each curtails a larger problem and self worshipbegins the moment your zipper opens.[35]

MADE IN SPACEMood food. In deep, deep waterwithout the thought of water bottom,I thought of you.Sous la peau rouge,Chartreuse, I thoughtof you.Dans le cafe du paradis,ile au emeraude.Cascades aux ecrivissesla belle aux Bois dormant.Tir a l'arc, volcon.Precious little majesty to Wordsnor necromancy of place names,ma douce.Partout, je te vous.[36]

Mood food. In deep, deep waterwithout the thought of water bottom,I thought of you.Sous la peau rouge,Chartreuse, I thoughtof you.Dans le cafe du paradis,ile au emeraude.Cascades aux ecrivissesla belle aux Bois dormant.Tir a l'arc, volcon.Precious little majesty to Wordsnor necromancy of place names,ma douce.Partout, je te vous.[36]

GODIVALingerie,black pumpsa navel creamy enoughto drown a kitten--the clothes assemblein microwave fashion--crackle of fire--the silver pants zoom across legswith curves so caress bounda formula racing drivermight tumble.As eyes risein jade lantern face& hair is brushedwith all sheen aside,the lady is more thana Godivaor Goldwyn-Mayer cinematic production,this oasis of sparks,twin peaks of McKinley-Matterhorn fame,her calendar of wordspulling Oil of Olay& perfumed honey thrueach studied remark.[37]

Lingerie,black pumpsa navel creamy enoughto drown a kitten--the clothes assemblein microwave fashion--crackle of fire--the silver pants zoom across legswith curves so caress bounda formula racing drivermight tumble.As eyes risein jade lantern face& hair is brushedwith all sheen aside,the lady is more thana Godivaor Goldwyn-Mayer cinematic production,this oasis of sparks,twin peaks of McKinley-Matterhorn fame,her calendar of wordspulling Oil of Olay& perfumed honey thrueach studied remark.[37]

PELÉEThe night before ...sultry Martinique, atortoise shell catclimbed, lap to pipe,amid curbs of orange smoke.2Mount Pelée, asmoking hard hatwith the candle-wax of longinggutting in paraffin for30,000 souls sent to the Crematoriumher harbour hissinglava foam;even coffee beans fused intoother metal bits, adanse macabre twittering machine,(nature au contraire),tortoise shell improviso withsplotched colours weaving dawn's light& feline crouching.3--the curl of her island's pawslanced in heat,brief wisps tugging Pelée'ssynopsis (dark & smouldering), withcat eyes glowingup the mountain darkinto vegetative whiskers.4Pull of my pipe full leap of centuriesbefore the bite of the stemdumped fire again[38]

The night before ...sultry Martinique, atortoise shell catclimbed, lap to pipe,amid curbs of orange smoke.2Mount Pelée, asmoking hard hatwith the candle-wax of longinggutting in paraffin for30,000 souls sent to the Crematoriumher harbour hissinglava foam;even coffee beans fused intoother metal bits, adanse macabre twittering machine,(nature au contraire),tortoise shell improviso withsplotched colours weaving dawn's light& feline crouching.3--the curl of her island's pawslanced in heat,brief wisps tugging Pelée'ssynopsis (dark & smouldering), withcat eyes glowingup the mountain darkinto vegetative whiskers.4Pull of my pipe full leap of centuriesbefore the bite of the stemdumped fire again[38]

PELÉE: MAY 8, 1902With the smile of morningin her purse,the dark laughter of hercat nappingin the crevice, half-alert,Martinique (angelique)on padded pawsclimbs from night.I saw her hair-brushthe lava to warm the bay,crinkle little St. Pierrejammed into oneparking lot, volcanic embrace.In the little museum--the holocaust cenotaph--Nature pared essentials to the bone,a cauldron of smokepeers from old photographsto cement (danse macabre)bric à brac ivy/stone andcoffee beans weddedin grandeurfission-fusion-froideurresembling masses of bees,grotesqueries & beardsupstaging even Miro & the distant surrealists;where reality masked vampire fiction toroll sulphuric heat toward belches ofSt. Pierre's prison.And Cygnet(his name close in French to "Swan")leg-irons)(subterranean chamberling peeking out),undaunted solitary survivor--the bars on his charnel housewere the fingers of Godpointing the way free.[39]

With the smile of morningin her purse,the dark laughter of hercat nappingin the crevice, half-alert,Martinique (angelique)on padded pawsclimbs from night.I saw her hair-brushthe lava to warm the bay,crinkle little St. Pierrejammed into oneparking lot, volcanic embrace.In the little museum--the holocaust cenotaph--Nature pared essentials to the bone,a cauldron of smokepeers from old photographsto cement (danse macabre)bric à brac ivy/stone andcoffee beans weddedin grandeurfission-fusion-froideurresembling masses of bees,grotesqueries & beardsupstaging even Miro & the distant surrealists;where reality masked vampire fiction toroll sulphuric heat toward belches ofSt. Pierre's prison.And Cygnet(his name close in French to "Swan")leg-irons)(subterranean chamberling peeking out),undaunted solitary survivor--the bars on his charnel housewere the fingers of Godpointing the way free.[39]

ELECTRAFantasy, Capri. The edge of a pillow.Certain words--murmur, seashells.A face beckoning thru time, lacy windows withpurple shades simultaneously drawn.Tears of gold. Love signs,glass of champagne.A tree of hemlock nearby. A delightful printtablecloth that signals the breeze. The courtierin fancy dress. Twin bottles of vintage wine abreastrider and horse.Potables. A blue eggshell. The sun stirring Virginia Creeperthat moves in unison with the wind.Electra and electricity, the current that prods the mind.[40]

Fantasy, Capri. The edge of a pillow.Certain words--murmur, seashells.A face beckoning thru time, lacy windows withpurple shades simultaneously drawn.Tears of gold. Love signs,glass of champagne.A tree of hemlock nearby. A delightful printtablecloth that signals the breeze. The courtierin fancy dress. Twin bottles of vintage wine abreastrider and horse.Potables. A blue eggshell. The sun stirring Virginia Creeperthat moves in unison with the wind.Electra and electricity, the current that prods the mind.[40]

SIDEWAY LOOKIt's snowing and all I can think ofare leaves to wrap your memory,leaves pungent as tea,green curls alivewith the promise of fire,shutes like fingersto play a tap on your skin.The snow is wet like your eyes at parting,cold as the promise of a winter dawnwet again as city-streetsI must tread to make a living,the flask of winepressed to my lips.On the winter landscape allI see is the ghost white of sheets,our sheets wrapped to keep breath warmthe log cannisters of our beda heady raft upon which to travelto burn up an ocean of delight.[41]

It's snowing and all I can think ofare leaves to wrap your memory,leaves pungent as tea,green curls alivewith the promise of fire,shutes like fingersto play a tap on your skin.The snow is wet like your eyes at parting,cold as the promise of a winter dawnwet again as city-streetsI must tread to make a living,the flask of winepressed to my lips.On the winter landscape allI see is the ghost white of sheets,our sheets wrapped to keep breath warmthe log cannisters of our beda heady raft upon which to travelto burn up an ocean of delight.[41]

LOLITA GARDENSA man weeps at your ankles,climbs the stairs to peek-a-boopanties, with finger clasps,a Rapunzel lowering your hair,the long-matted braidsa skilful weaver turns to gold.An ivy forest ina castle impregnated with doors,the prince overhears the code"let down your hair" and,with perilous grasp,mounts the stirrup wall,foot to clasp,searching cloud grey &storm blasts for billowy mistsgreen within this empress queen.Walking plasticine ledgein the shower with a mermaidsoaping her perfumed treasure trove,at an intersection within that woman,her tulip trees explode--faeryland syrupy,tasting of apricot and sugar cane;a swallow parting indigo sky.[42]

A man weeps at your ankles,climbs the stairs to peek-a-boopanties, with finger clasps,a Rapunzel lowering your hair,the long-matted braidsa skilful weaver turns to gold.An ivy forest ina castle impregnated with doors,the prince overhears the code"let down your hair" and,with perilous grasp,mounts the stirrup wall,foot to clasp,searching cloud grey &storm blasts for billowy mistsgreen within this empress queen.Walking plasticine ledgein the shower with a mermaidsoaping her perfumed treasure trove,at an intersection within that woman,her tulip trees explode--faeryland syrupy,tasting of apricot and sugar cane;a swallow parting indigo sky.[42]

UNPAGINATEDOrchestrating violins thru whisky skyclouds slide like billiard ballsa Jackie Gleason - Fats Dominoricochet off greener velvet;my pheasant escaping snow.Jack Ketch the hangmanin brilliant plumage,a touch of Borgia inlong, murderous hands.The light of Capone insteeple-dark eyesrunning like ahaunted shiparound the white, facial disc.Offset. Bold type.I see you through pagesof my history bookonly you're unpaginated.Unclench the fist,watch for effervescent islets,erotic mounds of Venus orprotuberances called Marquesasoff my left hand.Omens are the clothof dreams, scissorsused to open sky.Work out cosmic debts--figure stone footprints on Hollywood Blvd.en route to Tijuana for a start;I should have been Buddha incarnateor curator at the Hermitage,wild shaman for the Arapahonot a cocoa butter salesmanfrom New Jersey, naggingsoda-jerk in L.A.'bout the timeof Marilyn Monroe'squick magic.The Almighty unpacking orange crates,sending Florida coldunravelling karmic debt,brass studs in your eyemowing suckers with your scythe;Birthpath urge, Father Time,de-gutting chickens at Pleasure Farmslooking to Hindoos for clues(placing roaches on a lucky few.)This hurdle over stonescrass fortitude ensemble,strange melangespewing nails,elbows round thin paingutter cathedral looming into viewwhere thereis more viscera than mirth beforeripples of enchantmentcause vibrations at fourand the phrenologyof universal measureis a moonribcage in light--gazelle of treesa dinosaur in height.[43]

Orchestrating violins thru whisky skyclouds slide like billiard ballsa Jackie Gleason - Fats Dominoricochet off greener velvet;my pheasant escaping snow.Jack Ketch the hangmanin brilliant plumage,a touch of Borgia inlong, murderous hands.The light of Capone insteeple-dark eyesrunning like ahaunted shiparound the white, facial disc.Offset. Bold type.I see you through pagesof my history bookonly you're unpaginated.Unclench the fist,watch for effervescent islets,erotic mounds of Venus orprotuberances called Marquesasoff my left hand.Omens are the clothof dreams, scissorsused to open sky.Work out cosmic debts--figure stone footprints on Hollywood Blvd.en route to Tijuana for a start;I should have been Buddha incarnateor curator at the Hermitage,wild shaman for the Arapahonot a cocoa butter salesmanfrom New Jersey, naggingsoda-jerk in L.A.'bout the timeof Marilyn Monroe'squick magic.The Almighty unpacking orange crates,sending Florida coldunravelling karmic debt,brass studs in your eyemowing suckers with your scythe;Birthpath urge, Father Time,de-gutting chickens at Pleasure Farmslooking to Hindoos for clues(placing roaches on a lucky few.)This hurdle over stonescrass fortitude ensemble,strange melangespewing nails,elbows round thin paingutter cathedral looming into viewwhere thereis more viscera than mirth beforeripples of enchantmentcause vibrations at fourand the phrenologyof universal measureis a moonribcage in light--gazelle of treesa dinosaur in height.[43]

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