graphics mode c r o s s X c o n n e c t previous | next

| main page
| issue contents
| contributors
| e-mail us
x
c
o
n
n
e
c
t
   s u c h    a s    i t    i s:    a    p o s t m o d e r n    l o v e    n u m b e r

--- C H R I S   P U S A T E R I


turbine turns timed leg irons, from which larceny takes its name mink stoles of washed-up French actresses never as steeped as the blush

this is not my good side not an ovulation of the old rabbit- in-the-hat trick, but for the indemnity of an act without gravity in the satisfaction of a second not bought and paid for a cheese-whizzed Ku Klux Kleenex is sufficient to service a family of four ,for whatever toots your angled kangaroo becomes our pleasure too which is to say it's my duty to glue two salutes to the nearest air mail envelope left at the endstop past three anecdotes whereby lockjaws honky-tonk some shocking elasticity into red-hot hitcher thumbs desperate for a pick-up

so it's Kootenay or Paraguay or whichever parenthetical peach pit suits yourself because whatever way your compass pines is just jake by me

back home we'da made him for heat tallied his accounts up four flights clubbed him with lunatic flugelhorns till his Portuguese cheesecake pillboxed a kingfisher's whiskers

ordinarily I'da never fallen for such polyester cachinnations but ya see I was monsooned with visions of tangled cartouche I was in a bad way wracked by slow footnotes

and so shepherded the ventricle west to the left the wiles of implied fires growing more desperate with each passing acetate colored by preposterous acts of amnesia which were much more than I could fjord [edit out edit out] which seeps to the crux of old Coltrane fishsticks whose stored oysters knew me by the placement of my knickknacks

squeal for sunken lanolin and whether alphabet or sextet or whatever crystalline indifference, set your watch ahead and consummate some objectivist lemonade from whatever frieze cordials your begonias.

(I cross it out repeatedlyly Language as a form of smuggling, as a form of -ing)

come one come all my precious little redundancies

you have confessed fierce Braille ferried into delicate cigarettes which gave form to certain certains but who's counting now? It's all lumbering cauliflower at any price.

cipher the sweet knot of rue imbued with microscopic Mahler

so over your Edo we hear locusts and raindrops on a hatbrim.

© crossconnect 1995-2001 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |