Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Voll Keimung Gras Mond, Mond April von Dezember Kontinuum
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Trundle-in-the-Jungle/ Bundles of Tuft, Moons, Rift, Rust, Mist, Thrust & Padua
Edwina, please... in the wild, unity is paramount and, as syntactic interval, composed of two colae, the simplest possible combo of inventive-- nay, tidy-- sign unity
our own lunar mores con us into misperceiving song, time, space, race, rage, folio, scope, rope and feral thematic intent. Holy Moley!
No! We must not be vexed by the omnipresent. when atemporal succession, discernible in only our dimension/ world-- sequences, correspond to, say, linear elements in banter, & one can be easily delighted by the brilliant verisimilitude that appear as paragraph flourishes, and/or as stanzas limit and re-define wild profusion of thematic mass. WHOMP. Whoa! whump, clump, thump, Winnebago!
Trula-trula fair. Menopausal. Mnemonically speaking: I'll/ take Mountbatten.
Edwina, please.
--mge
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Sleet Prances, Minutes Waltz. Snow Marches On
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Vroooom!
Time is speed, not grace.
It walks,
it runs--
plummets
from Wall Street windows and sings and dances
and/or... makes/ the snow to fall.
Sometimes a little Proust, or
a slow speed chase or, mebbe
some lackadaisical strobes/ is all/ you/ need.
Sure. I tilt my head/ & stars begin to drift.
Sure, sleet marches on. Sure.
Zoum, zoum, zoum.
--mge
It walks,
it runs--
plummets
from Wall Street windows and sings and dances
and/or... makes/ the snow to fall.
Sometimes a little Proust, or
a slow speed chase or, mebbe
some lackadaisical strobes/ is all/ you/ need.
Sure. I tilt my head/ & stars begin to drift.
Sure, sleet marches on. Sure.
Zoum, zoum, zoum.
--mge
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Carlos Fuentes, 1928--2012
words mirror things, but colours stir serenity
...Light and shadow assert mixed, yet dominant codes.
Common materials, distinguished by differing insignia,
colours of vessels, space of vase, etc, hint of manner,
fall like erosion. Radiants.
...Serial dustings evoke interest in salons of indistinct
unceremoniousness like, say, film stills, or packaging ikons.
They touch us all. They touch us all, and time slogs on.
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