True Confessions of a Subliterate Dork

On the Aesthetics of Beauty and Hell

Funnel Cloud

Thinking, each section as a different page. Working my way through the rhyme. Kind of like how Joyce uses limerick. 3rd draft. 

Glossing

Creating one’s own definitions for historical rhetorical devices?? You can’t do that. 

Reflexive slews of “pleonasmus, superabunduncia, conglobato & congeries.”

Together comprising various rhetorical devices out of a couple of rhetorical dictionaries, meaning vivid descriptive word heaps.

Glossing: extrapolating and generalizing from (misleading as not) descriptions, one after another, run-rabid-run.  

Slippery

The curiosity, a Wired Up syndromic hurler. Rhyming a rhythmic dump-a-thon, non-resisting the compulsion – riffing after insalubrious charms, groping the exquisite lack & luster, honing honing pidgeotto –

Bird on ridge over river, keen of eye for dormant blood – hisses and murmurs – as languishing in wind and currents, as being lit by what – media, floods!

Lamplighters

Lamplighters cold as cave and torch, lighting up corners with shadows of angry gods – forlorn for a horse, intensification of the effervescent seeker, mischief, rogue like a dancing spoon, eager to particulate raving specimens of dire mischievous beauty, sorrow and gloom, surveyor purveyor impudent lark? 

Sirens beeping: slip through slip through – the rabid run run, its bigger than you.

Reflections stare back from wan, like a midnight sun. Magnified, causes wildass suffuse, roving loaded build up. Breaking lose.

Gold Tooth

Plaque is gold bottomless ruthless even druid. Prospecting, the Lovely. Against all terror. Running with bulls. Finding fishes, circling schools.

Treachery at fumes where exits license, to cycle and broom, wild the seasalt, cherished, nearing nearing nearing the religious where fabulous intercedes.

That moment when Madness folding croons. The doubled over heart. Lust laden with gloom.

Blood rushes as run run run, collects into migration of startling thickness and rebellion.

Score

Player walks up to end of stage, fuckn alright?

What do you declare. Pirate mystery interred there both shockingly and mockingly in fourth wall, be you its fissure, fall in fall, defiant marvelous boy, like Chatterton laced. 

Vestiges in garrot, ancient endowments fixed with both depth and emptiness. Muck cracking for love. Beauty and waste? 

Racket

When seeing swerves mercilessly through a pointillism of angles, dire crossed with heartache, suddenly comes to an endlessness –

Wilderness turns out, calls, the all in all – up from slippery slums of sorrow – beasts beasts beasts. Need of beast, for sharper armor!?

Angel at seams, screams don’t do it don’t do it no no no. Do the oppo!

Rally sis boom for love, perpetuate beauty, follow the call, till breaks into – spoof?

Violence is flower of my youth???

WTF 

Escape Artist.

Pained, mute. Saw in hand, little lost boy burning for magic, sawing circle round the floor, begging merciless for trap door. Houdini birth right, clamped inside box. 

There at the corner phone booth – uber man stalks. Conspiracy of capture? As magic is born.

And up to a point, tis true. Has a way of capturing true, in you.

Resurrection

Moments of great lapse/escape, just before death, lost in resurrection where beauty is ancient, sacrificial, endless. Mystics to the breach, linger embody astonish polarize. Canoodle brilliantine — Has no breaks! 

Wipe outs are brutal. 

Color of mud

Orange mauve emerald blue — paint turning to mud. Thats when it really gets plussage-y, agonizingly speculative. Risk walks right up to that edge of  destruction, and like a meat cleaver, hacks its way  in.

Currently having (in my painting) a mud period. 

Why so stubborn to squander colors into mud??

Unruly or Arrogant

How is it arrogance??

The accusation embraces its “master.”

The squander bunny. I have a thing about bunnies. It has to do with pastiche, I think. Cartoon marvels bunnies timepieces 

To squander time, on beautys dime – as what pops up are blow my gaskets dumbfoundedly: delicate & profound configurations, riddled as chastening with sordid sweet happened stances of holy hell.

Arrogance (as a suggestion even) bleeds like a bloodstained lark into visions exquisite with hell –

How many times can a person grace the colors of hell – the little bird says: as many as can smell. Dire magnificent plowboy is an Indian tricksters leper on crutch and leaping! elusive for sweet illicit treasury of “times 3” death: register loss / fall through to bottom after hitting top / fall through fall in all over again, as an equivalent to Or Way Nor Way –

Thors hammer banging flint for fire, as epitome for labors of sorrow and desire. That a sacrificial initiative toils at the depths –

Is it arrogance that squanders?

Or sorrow for beauty, beauty is flirtatious mischievous irreverent insolent impetuous obstinate ferocious —

And then turns on self, suddenly retrograding, like a pirates treasure chest – luft after, as brazen wind, heart burning destitute, somehow – desperado feckless.

Grail is made sacred, as travels thru chambers of horror.

Not to understress eerie fervent sanctimony, under duress from thunderclaps of impossible desire.

Love must escape itself: stands in a hot spring mountain Mud Spot, painting face with dark blue black mud, holding back arrow rooted in head to sky, to silence of sky in blanketing vastness of distance and sun –

Till dries Mud into cake and cracks – as sun beats down on sacred torment – of strange unsubduable ass is grass.

Can’t break the spell. Sweet and holy hell.

Bring out the guns

Flame bearing, camo-wearing ArtTillU Reek suddenly hatches, hatches with exemption,green grey beige golden sun of sand, carbon-shielded, many layers thick: the church military.  All odds off. Carnival of death, 

Comes to mind always: the cynicism and piousness of flame-outs bearing guns. As a scoff and snigger of raging backdraft dynamite beauty. Flames blowing lights out — to bust it all up. Death as zealotry godliness dissidence uprising. Grope and loopy. 

Dance under the bullets of this nozzle’s nuzzling love. Rosebud.

Monsters suddenly colluding over lunch. Sharing lists: Destruction as intimacy. 

Freak and leaky astonishing lusts. Break the bread, lotioned handed, dealings in brisk and ancient trusts.

Sitting under haze of canopy, hat is in a courtyard, hat is in a courtyard.

Entry gate of carved metal doors.

Listen to call stand at stone wall nearby cataract, sniffing afternoons wide awake, the loud insistent fall of water. Like tomb of the unforgotten soldier.

Sozzled

The Gift, to be drunk with love again, implode & drivel is prison for pirates. Mann says so. I didnt know?!

Cine-mastic, scrubland pronouns,  – wandering in hoards of plenty, the slavery plush sensitive hungry  killer, brutal.

Deutschland lovers moony and dusk.

Chain and pillage dunning for tusk.

Pink elephants wandering.

Where grace woos the forlorn, Wheezy the Night Watchman. Shuffling home. Minding the curb. Minding himself minding the curb. Walking after midnight slipping into sweet random waves of lyrical woozy awe fullness. Under presence and pressure of migrations, and the sea, the sea as it mounts –

Like larva, oozing back back residual and primal ur words infancies.

Cement

Cement it has to be stated, under presence and pressure of lava – cracks. Does not melt.

This knowledge having accrued after going to The Pump House for a party of Pitchers. Rubbing elbows with future phds, science grad students – swill & gargle. Oh how Wheezy loves talking incrementals with the studious.

Meters calculated and analyzed via speed of light, to standardize close as one can get to a universal measurement of distance. Remembered reading something about it. Greenwich. Right

Wheezy graced with the pleasantry in conference with Joyce’s Leopold Bloom, standing in front of mirror in the washroom, wiping hands after a couple two many, feeling the ocean sing: “it’s downright beautiful!”

Hell – no!

Ho could you ever, go – Not until understand first: never is forever, snore pour bore (as in instrument you f*cks) Pee Boys love for license, penchant for rebirth. Obsessing over beauty of moving instruments.

Sleepy leapy creepy, yah but oh the murderer – whose dreary sweet angelic presence is so powerful an ill-kept creature – oft as ever suddenly under weight of its horrible beauty: can’t breath can’t breath.

Stupidity, laziness, terror, freedom, contempt. The revelatory plasmapheresis – plasma separated from whole blood and the rest is returned to its donor???

Wild things are mutual (I am sure), insidious perfidious nefarious etc. bent. Oh friends of the alpha privative Greek. Cassandra pileups beauty spools grand quarry murderous lorn stupid paranoid moonling misanthropic asleep at the wheel –

Damn it Huck we got a bleeder. 

Backhanders

Backhand, never knew before it blew, the double wedged edged waffler in camo sneakers and kill joy noose, painfully lecherous farce of wildly spinning choking sky pummeled holy cow tortuosity – tanking again – the worst!

The little bird screams: why are you tanking??

Ok ok cascading – in a biliously wild tantrum with death.

Funnel cloud

Where exactly Cal Lowell (the Fulminator) stops! starts to shout? a frank ferocious frenzy?? Merciless sweet storming croak when its breaking out –

Raging ruthless & stupid, a sharp crackling blindness, fire in the fireplace! old soft soot and deep.

As a donkeys treadwheel, in pin-the-tail hell.

Slam! always slamming (desperado) on its getaway hoof and like in a road rage movie skidding into a death spiral???

Cinema pops it, images overlay with vehicle – caught, on fire, ups the ante up up up – molten, for your breadth

It’s all depth. You see. Supposed to be outward looking??? Barely survives. Secondary organic pollutants. Heavy liquids.

Very dense.

Eye patch

Actinism. Had to be gotten had to be stolen had to be found had to bussed in had to be wielded borrowed. Flues and flanks, follow the foam, forming up around Enchantment & Death and The Angelic Departure.

As much as (of course = is a horse) for materia medica, rattlesnake roots. Argy bargy, rub ups again and again against vicious relentless dichotomies – plush! sheeny roof fiddling holes and moles of logic, ohh philosophy – since almost a virgin. 

How one loves philosophy, boys with meta-brains, everybody’s got their Beauty School – to combat contempt of torrid horrid religious gods, for freedom mine – from them old caviling originalist cranks!

Foils have got to have preferences. For whose your Jesus. Slowly now. Disconnect J from desert monolithic possessive repressive, slip his drip right in next to the detachable radiolucent Buddha, singing a tisket a tasket you can’t own god, thats slavery!

Yaddo

Old beauty school pile.

When the heart is wild with sweet morbid swell, to walk under walls where Lowell yelled  — caught in a trap! Slay and sly, flying wild & high on old druid loam, all alone, running from captivity of any kind — 

Yaddo! Writing is a greed, affectionately speaking surly-sympatico mining the effluents, the surplus liquids —

For floating oscillatory vibratiles, whilst picking pulverulently at feathers (of chance).