I cannot attest to the truth of this story,
told to me many years ago at a friend's house by Barry Humphries before he became more famous via his alter-ego Dame Edna Everage.
About being in a bar, in New York, & a drunken Jack Kerouac lookalike came up to him & invited him to a party. He declined the invitation. Was given the address anyway. Discovered about half an hour later that it had, in fact, been Kerouac. Rushed off to the address. Found it to be the premises of a removal company & that the party was taking place in the back of a moving Moving van that had left fifteen minutes earlier & was now out on the road, somewhere, anywhere, in the city.
A midnight census
In the background the pool pump hums. Put clarifier in the water, & now it has to circulate for thirty-six hours to let the clouding particles coalesce. There is a smoke smell in the air. Drove around over the last few days on roads impinged upon by opportunistic grasses. A day of rain & they grow. A month later they are dry, primed for burning. Easier to set them alight than mow the strip that runs along the road- side. The static geometry of the house separates the evening into panels. A quintych. Angular, o- blique. Trees fill in some of the gaps, but the most striking are those where there are gaps in the trees themselves, one in part- icular, bite-shaped, as if some- one had tried an apple & then abandoned it. Acute. yourself. Only flesh, which the hand passes through as if |
& along the way
cigarettes
coffee
chicken
& rice
burnt
grass
a tart
plum
it wasn't there. |
Meadow Saffrons (Les Colchiques)
—Guillaume Apollinaire
The meadow is poisonous but pretty in autumn
The cows grazing there
are slowly poisoning themselves
Meadow saffron the color of your eye-shadow of lilacs
flower there your eyes are like that flower
Violet like the eye-shadow & like the autumn
& for your eyes my life slowly poisons itself
School children come noisily
dressed in their smocks & playing harmonicas
They pick the meadow saffrons which are like mothers
Daughters of their daughters & the color of your eyelids
which flutter like flowers caught in a crazy wind
The cowherd sings very softly
whilst the slow lowing cows abandon
this great meadow ill-flowered by the autumn
(translated by M. Y.)
A line from Kurt Schwitters (3)
We were a modern family on
whom rebel militants launched
a large-scale attack following
weeks of simmering low-level
violence. The family began to
fall apart, particularly when we
started injecting black tar heroin.
Additional risk factors included
low-socioeconomic status, an
increase in gun violence, a steak
pie which says simmer on the
hob for 60 minutes. Soups are
also dangerous, especially when
they are served without rinsing
away the dirt. Anxieties are run-
ning high; we are spending too
much time in the danger zone.
Perhaps an anomaly, or will
light & visibility dictate if full
body hi-vis clothing is required?