13 Easy St.
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These runic pathologies,
This radical scarrification
Denies existence –
Beyond the slightest
Time worn –
well-feathered subsistence
I revise myself –
At your insistence
And throw curses
And vermin at your persistence
Please comply –
And turn your devices
To their highest settings
Your crocheted bowl is leaking.
You better fill it up
With your galaxial axiomatic
Androgynous secretions…
Play one last round of your
Self-fertilising
Generic genetic roulette
Thank you for the hammer
I have an idea to pummel
Grudgingly into existence
Or not
I contemplate
The enigma of postage
Unsent
The extended silence
From you
Your twin
And your shadow –
There beneath, or behind you
Touching the draperies
And the carpet
Dancing carelessly
On your ancient faux Persian rug
Be diligent Shadrack!
It’s all that’s required
In this energetically sparking
Red room
Crimson, you understand?
Not Roman scarlet
Or sweet-sirened fire-engine toned
The motors refined
Teslatically preformed
Deep in a mind so pestilential
That Nagasaki looms like a picnic
How Trumanesque in your diatribe
And as you whistle and tickle
The demonic undercarriage
Of my celestial erector devices
Remember
Simpering will get you nowhere
And the dream that you touch –
Can casually bite back
Taking a heart or a throat
As it hurtles toward tomorrow
Fuelled on yesterday
And robbing this moment
Of its peace.
The graphic is from the credit collage of the TV show Fringe. The text is a combination of prompts supplied at Navworks on Myspace many years ago, and material gleaned from the Surrealist Compliment Generator, a favourite site of mine when inspiration fails me.
19/4/2008
An Unauthorised Autohagiography 
April 7, 2013 at 1:14 am
Whew! Amazing write: I can’t count the images running through my mind. “Teslatically performed”…love that! This is brilliant, mate! I think you hammered it into a perfectly relatable shape! Only you…
April 7, 2013 at 1:20 am
Tesla said his ideas arrived virtually “complete”. Gotta love old Nick…
Thanks JoJo
April 7, 2013 at 10:14 pm
Be still, my love, my watermelon rind. I am consumed with your collection of agile fans and pocked blades.
April 7, 2013 at 9:36 pm
Fantastic Phillip;
I went to your surrealist generator to find a comment. Here you go: “Your ideas are as fresh and new as an agatized stromatolite.”
I have have to admit your ideas are fresh and new 😉
Ta!
April 7, 2013 at 10:05 pm
“My” SCG? No no no no – a million times no – it was just one of the very first things I found on the world wide interweb twenty years ago. I kid you not – one of the first things I punched into proto-google was “Surrealism” and not knowing that one rarely goes beyond the first page of a search – I found it somewhere deep in the bowels of the search result – somewhere near the liver – or possibly the spleen. The whole site is good by the way – Madsci – though many links are broken – which – come to think of it – may be appropriate…
The exquisite corpse sends you: “The sisters of St. Cathode ask that you cover yourself with filaments and take pains to make yourself fully incandescent this evening” To which this not so exquisite corpse adds… Please send photos!
April 7, 2013 at 10:11 pm
And might I add…
“Never align yourself too much with a Surrealist salesman.”
April 10, 2013 at 7:26 am
Bad day, eh, lad? But oh so mesmerically described.
April 10, 2013 at 8:41 am
The day I found this was a fabulous one, Christine. Not a bad day at all. Sure – there’s some mean stuff in here… and it recounts some nasty moments – with a couple of portraits of people I knew a little too well. But like the blues – it was cathartic… and that’s usually a good thing. I like vitriol – spleen… This is part of a series of poems that let me paint pictures of some incredibly interesting and often disturbing characters with whom I spent a lot of time. There’s enough “Hallmark” in the world – don’t you think?
April 10, 2013 at 9:32 am
Indeed there is and I was being a bit of a smart ass, but who better than you to have fun with. And yes, writing is one of the more cathartic activities there is. Tons better than talking. If one’s talent permits poetry, you’ve got the best of all worlds. Remember, I’m Canadian, and we are an irreverent bunch of smart asses at times. Always good to chat.
April 10, 2013 at 5:24 pm
Ah no no – arses surely – ass is so… American! :))
Being from the land of Oz – I’m pretty familiar with irreverence myself… of course you’d never know it from my interweb “presence” where it’s all good manners and decorous civility. hmmm – is “decorous civility” a tautology? Who cares- I love torte. Let’s make it a torteology. Garcon! Cake for everyone!
April 10, 2013 at 11:37 pm
I live in the States now. The corrupting influence is insidious. Let’s eat cake-yes.
April 11, 2013 at 5:34 am
Sachertorte and coffee for EVERYONE!
April 21, 2013 at 9:43 am
Ha!! Very amusing, you two!!
April 21, 2013 at 10:37 am
I detect sarcasm… NO sachertorte for you! Well – okay – one piece – and a little one!