deepundergroundpoetry.com
...but Ottilie was too busy to be lonesome
monoweb of chrome.
half-sphere of a bulb
turned its ear into a mirror
to reflect the city full & bare.
down the 80 precocious west
(brighter bigger sink thnn all the rest!)
& gouged preciously his arm,
neck & chest
and glommed a hymn for her
and her and them
and him
onward very directionless &
vertiginous. idealistic dreck of Youth
went truth for a truth
down the void machine.
and dawn brought forth
the icy vest of capitalincest,
self-defeating for the team, yes
but, really, we must insist.
in the dying acts i shaped my days
into strangled sextuple arcs of savage nothingness
to adorn the narrowness.
O
&
knock
knock
went
the pulse.
knock knock
around the clock.
& SO i get so weary so oft
you know, don't you know?
enormously repeating
unbearable momentums of simulacrum.
(and filled with FRAGMENTS FRAGMENTS EVERYWHERE!)
and all the sky a little dimly
and much the world lit incorrectly,
wrung down to spokes
so compulsedt the lathe and spoke
it's clack clact clackclact throat
& spit adieu adieu
to you to you,
to silver stars, and the milk white
lacquer'd warmth of your hands
for a hurlyburly
skurry of rivets,
bolts, and knobs.
this communion, O lazybones, this communion i says,
of metaphysical failures, distant
ruminations, tepid musical theaters of the absurd,
dirt arithmetic of sycophantic flagrancy, all
the modern loveless carnival of chaos,
with flagpoles stouthanded
up the ultimate vacancy
of iron-clink-americano
from which the blood falls
from and/on your head
and heart
simultaneously
&
inexplicably, well,
but there it is.
*
thee title was lifted straight from Truman Capote's House of Flowers
Published 2nd Jun 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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2nd Jun 2013 1:31pm
aye
omightilly
ever'dig thee
wordulations
sirCaliban
dredges from
thee's
human dregs
of us bein wee in every me **
**(that's a deeply creative comli
ment deeply(customade)created unto thee,
y'see?)
omightilly
ever'dig thee
wordulations
sirCaliban
dredges from
thee's
human dregs
of us bein wee in every me **
**(that's a deeply creative comli
ment deeply(customade)created unto thee,
y'see?)
2nd Jun 2013 2:05pm
Anonymous
13th Jun 2013 7:01pm
This reminds me so much of the old beat poets. I think it would be an excellent spoken word piece.
