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Archive for March 20th, 2010

By Raymond Farr

Hans Arp dresses himself
In seal skin 30

& breathes deep

A measure of
6 Avenues pinging
With loss
Seems a delightful missing boy & dog
To muse upon
A strobe light

His stilts still walk
Engaged in malapropism
After malapropism
Staged at 30 degrees
Of negative affect

Someone meanders into meatloaf city
In & out of him

A savage box
Penultimate with caged affect
Appears horizontal to

Spilling words
Over his roof tops

His Irish ballad a gift of the dumb Irish gravy

His blarney
(misst places him)—

The Penultimate
Gourde (his head on straight)
Wires the complex
Flexing its muscles

He panicks in altered
Spaces (up tight)

At certain intervals
A corner chair

Or choir

He is singing commercially accidentally
Hit after hit

As someone shifts
The essence down town
Believing tv

Our water scrambles up
The Outlaws’
Inner tubes

As someone’s original dilations
Pour whisky flotilla

A mr head

Whose tenses shift
The is to was

The bend in the road was supple writing
We worship it as men
To one who was lost—

Either Hans Arp
In the form of

Phylogenic transparencies

Or Karl meat
(Po as a po boy)

As mental as
A plaid veneer

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