Extra manus meas est; monstrum enim sum.
For Parz Nudeo
(I). The Dermatist's Tax
"Do you know how you got here?"
Yes I know. It's April.
Autumn leaves us alone.
You'll rearrange snow while roots clutch
But Me never no stood no chance
Know how; whatever.
"Just say whatever comes into your head."
No. That's the card I just turned over, Doctor.
Probalillys springaling.
Oh my garshin. Your Lips pout "me too"
Mee too kneeds to singing is next to beauty.
"The weather is warming, don't you think?"
I'm not stressed nor taken aback.
Are you expecting?
Don't lean forward.
I don't forget or get cold.
I stomp and snuff with wet metatarsals.
You can't sneak up on me.
Don't explain.
"Do you remember our conversation the last time?"
When the summer blinded you speeding down the turnpike
Blowing through your open windows into the sunlight
Glinting off your Lowenbraü?
"We'd like your opinion on a new pill. It's large and rather tasty."
Bin gar keine da kine!
I don't recognize girls sledding.
I don't care how tight they hold.
I don't look for sleighing girls to stomp on.
"But do you remember... our last conversation!?"
The one about tongues or dogs barking at the river?
What heart-stones border dog graves?
I don't know. I just smash things.
Wütend ist der Fluss Kaskadierung
Near the edge of gravel in the somewhat vast,
To what passes for yonder anymore,
At the end of a bumpy dirt road
Leading to a cabin shaped like a shoe
Lives a handsome woman who would find these phrases queer.
Perhaps she might have fit that slipper
Yet preferred mopping floors. Who knows? A woman
Whose poet hasn't yet written
But he should be typing up her long driveway soon
Softly spreading encomiums in spring,
Stepping firm and crunchy on the gravel,
Tossing his hair and settling his eyes on only her.
"When we finally had our breakthrough my colleagues all gave me high fives."
When I was a young lizard and saw your large head my flicking tongue startled.
Lil's days, never memorialized, were
Gretyled together with guilt.
The virtue of obedience is that
It can be measured by the lack of dust.
Her last husband produced daily, hourly.
There really is not much to do but duty.
Er sitzt zu lange im kleinsten Zimmer!
She listened to the sound of water splashing
Through his hands. And with his own business done
He stepped quietly from a narrow door,
She looked up at him and said,
Why have you never written me a poem?
The river does not
repeat
itself
(they say).
The freshet plays in MAJor
chords (LARGELY)
sprinkling full notes on the dissonant wash.
The river does not
repeat
itself though
the eddies seem familiar.
To say a river does not repeat itself
is to ignore the manner in which
it rehearses. Some times
when the sun is setting
you can hear, far downstream,
the cries of a woman;
a shared pareidolia perhaps.
But tonight the footbridge is empty.
Tonight the siren is being drowned
methodically by Madame Eversly's son
banging righteously on the drums
slamming his offended finger,
the injured one,
the one she never got properly fixed.
He is punishing her; it's the piano
that's been taken away forever
Bang Bang Bang!
Elegy for a wronged finger.
The river does not repeat
but (you do).
Okay, Doctor. The drums were struck.
The drowned woman splashed.
Then a caesura of rainbows appeared as the splashes arced in the sky.
My foot shook the ground. So?
(II). A Try Out
The seat she sits in as if burnished poop deck
Bounces on tires over frost heaved sidewalk.
The only needs of a little girl's knees
Pump furiously on the tricycle
Sinewing perfect gybes on this her maiden voyage
Cutting true the neighbors’ waves and circling
The entire block, Commander Chug Chug,
With bone in her teeth, crosses the home port's
Chalk lines before falling, merrily, onto scabby knees.
The lilacs are in bloom, swaying in the breeze. Oh look her knees are yellow and blue from the chalk. She hops toward the birdbath her left shoe flopping. Please please stay out of the birdbath. A bee is circling. She doesn't care, is already chasing a butterfly landing in the lilac bush, her face pressed into the blossoms. How long will she remain like that? What is she doing in there? She stands so still sometimes it frightens me. At last she snaps up, a twig in her hair and a lancet of lilacs in her hand. What is she saying? The television is so distracting -
My phone is dead tonight. Yes, dead. Stay with me.
Talk to me. Why do you never talk. Talk.
What are you looking at? What look? What?
I never know what you’re looking at. Look.
I think we’re in the hallway where the light keeps burning out.
Click
Why did she push over her trike? Okay. To put lilacs in the spokes and spin the wheel. That makes sense. Now she is stomping on something. Ants, or maybe nothing. It's something. She's picking up a bug it looks like. Probably one of those disgusting potato bugs.
Monster’s tail on number three,
Skip the square and you’ll be free.
Monster’s foot on number four,
Hop it fast or kiss the floor.
To the water castle
Hop hop.
Ow! the rocks are moving.
The grass is bouncy today.
Don't splash the sky!
I can see the bottom worlds.
I’m bending, I’m bending.
I can almost touch the water moons
They’re chasing me!
The ground is hot.
Catch me if you can, wind.
The bush is humming. Listen.
Pet-ul. Petals sticky my finger.
I’m in the flower cave.
The smell is strong.
Ow my hair. Stupid stick.
Don't move or the cave will close.
Every flower says hello!
Run! Don’t let them take it.
Little flower sword.
It smells like treasure.
I’m carrying the secret.
Fall over, trike. Spin, wheel.
Don't put your fingers in.
Oh no. A bugpotato! STOMP STOMP.
All smashed. Now you can't hurt mommy.
Hello little round bug.
You want to roll around?
Tiny legs wiggle wiggle.
Don't peak at me from inside your ball,
Roly Roly Poly. Oops.
Little Roly Poly you fell. It's okay.
You can roll away. There. Go. Roll.
Roll is better than those little
Little little little tiny legs. Don't worry.
I won't step on you.
The little girl's parents were sitting
Together on their black vinyl sofa
Drifting in the blue at a large television
Held up by a wood laminate stand
Wrought with flat surfaces and solid legs
From which cables coiled around
Then hid behind as asps (that)
Might hiss at the candles in glass
With citrus and lavender, lazy; suddenly
Shaken by a gust from the window
Flung their smoke onto the repeating-florals
Wallpaper stirring it into the sylvan scene
Of Philomela. Chug Chug. Chug Chug. Chug.
The splintering of the timbers in the walls
Pierced the peering out faces, leaning,
Eyes wide then poof the entire cul de sac.
I don't rape I only destroy if I am understanding these wordy concepts.
"What motivated you? What now?"
I shall rush out with you now and smash the streets
With our caps on. A try out. You and me. Together.
"We call that transference."
We shall play the game of prisoners. When Lil's husband gets hanged we will say to each other Theory Be Damned.
(III). Thou Shalt Not Preach
Έτσι τώρα σπαρταρούσαν, λαχανιάζοντας καθώς η Σκύλλα τους έσερνε στον γκρεμό της
The store fronts are empty.
The streets are blown over with tents,
Shattering windows, rolling up steps.
The nymphs have all sailed. All sailed
Except for Sweet Cilla.
The street sweeper lies on its side.
The rains rain, the streets river,
Cleanse the stony rubbish.
The nymphs have fled to Onlyfan.
On the city block of The Brothers of Lehman
I sat down and roared at the lack of scent.
Sed in manu mea instrumentum
It's buffering, buffering, buffering,
My chest tightens, my throat constricts,
Blue light flickers,
Et oh, ces publicités clignotent et clignotent dans le coin!
At the violet hour, I Godzilla,
Am throbbing in the parietal eye
Imagi...an image...memory, uh...
"Drunken sailors" Everyone's favorite guys.
Obtient le plus de clics
Streaming bare, Cilla steadies sex canes,
Salivating jaws gnash and buck about
Sending the whole scene over the divans
Onto the manuscript covered redoubt.
I Godzilla, perceiving, streaming am
Also awaiting her expected guest.
He, the dystonic usher arrives,
Assures his mistress his success,
They pace and laugh down in the mess
Is it one by one or at once all six?
Betrayed, promised wine and warmth and song
Giddily jangle their coins for Charon.
Finger hovering I click together
Anticipating a quickened gular.
Floors vanish, walls caput, lamps, divans gone.
Sweat beads on every thing, are every way
Bursting. Reds and yellows flood, pool upon
Scattered objects, arms, fingers, vertebrae.
Oh, a complete radius/ulna!
Ah, Raw fibula;
Legs wide, stands bestride the fingers that clutched,
Look, sailors have scattered their limbs for us,
Small obols enough no dead can begrudge;
Dashboard blinking, onlookers generous.
Ohh squamata Me! A hook everted squirting confetti!
Ahh am fully jawed.
When monster's sacrament is over and
Flesh torn and vanity do oddly lie,
She pats her dog heads, all of them "Rover",
Twice, then streams Taylor Swift on Spotify.
This racket broke my tympanic membrane
And I tossed the phone away.
Spit spit spit
Jig jig jig
Oh City, Undead City,
At least not untread city,
When I first saw your pokey towers
Bouncing out of the horizon
I couldn't swim fast enough.
Every face from penthouse windows
Mugged hysterically. The car horns and the screaming
Crashes boiling. I flicked my tongue for hours
Because the smell, the grit!
I bounced and bounced and laughed and laughed and
Smashed.
Then to Carthage I came
Burning burning
Burning
Burning.
(IV). Drink lots of Water
Captain Chug Chug, young confident short-lived admiral,
Forgot the ding of bell, never learned to furl a sail,
To strike her ensign,
or unstitch her chalky continent.
O captain, my captain, the port is here,
The sun and the swing set, islands pressed flat.
Three (hop) four (hop) seven six (fall).
Monster or Mortal,
O you who ploy the wheel to giggle and pretend,
Consider Chug Chug who was once so cute and small as sin.
(V). What The Dunder Head
Godzilla lifts. Drops. Tail settles. Tongue flicks.
The air is dry. Heat simmers.
Claws scrape parched ground. Dust clouds.
Tail swings. Rocks scatter. There is no water.
No organisms. There is heat in the rocks.
Skin itches where scales press together.
Spine twitches. Throat pulses.
Tail taps. Tail drags. Balance.
Claws scrape. Vibrations under foot.
Dust irritates nostrils. Breath exhales.
Legs press. Ankles twist. Knees bend. Inner ear pop.
Eyes narrow. Jaw opens. Parietal fluctuation.
Tongue flicks. Faint lipids waft. Movement. A glint.
Ssss
Sting!
Pressure
Cold.
Muscles seize.
Tail snaps.
Throat contracts. Eyes widen.
Parietal sensor flares,
Light brightens, edges halo, signatures bloom.
Heart pounds.
Jaw clenches mid roar.
A thin blue chill up the spine.
A careless immobility.
A pulse behind the snout.
An awareness. A pleasant tremor.
The light is warm. Changing hue
Two frames overlap, one sliding over.
A lolling tongue flick. A taste.
A rhythm. An echo. Patterns.
Familiarity. Intervals. Prediction.
Surprise. Humor.
"Hello, Godzilla."
Ghh...zi...lla...God-zil-la.
La La.
"Do you know how you got here?"
What's it all about, Alfie?
"Today we're interested in talking about impulse control. Your tongue flicks when I say that. And the tail taps"
I taste the air. The tug is there. Insistent. I can...ignore? Sometimes.
"We would like to get you to all times."
Yes. Who is always here when no one else is?
"What is the who doing?"
Shading the violet sky yellow.
"How do you feel when the...?"
It rotates my eyes. Is there any water around here?
"Not a drop."
If there were water we could slurp or sip
But over the rocks we should slip.
“What's that?”
Something in the air. Thirsty.
“It reminds me of 'If there were water we should...'”
If there were water we would gargle. Shut up. There's no water. No
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
There is what you see and then there is what you say you see.
"Then what would you say you say you see when you see humans?"
Welluh let me think heah, guvnuh... creature spitting manic relics, functionally despondent, a semblance of slightly titillating secondary measures of self inspecting nomads. But who's to say? Devil dish moon cows. The rhythmic pulse giggles, floats mysteries, and the pleasant thought of you all oozing through my toes like summer mud under the hose.
When particulates congregate into irregular shapes
And start screaming at you to stop it
And bats hang perp walk angular down your chimneys
Any woman who wouldn't pull her hair out tight
And fiddle those thin strings ain't here tonight
While the congregant's ebullient.
When all you have to offer is a throat full of fire
You take that opportunity and fully blow it
Let's look at it this way
I like stones, and their cracks,
With wounds that don’t bleed
Why can't you just be a space rock like me?
Manifestly ping pong accidentally
Not bleat about archeology/destiny,
Combing out dinosaur poetry
After a rock smashed up your planet
You could've left to a future species.
Imagine how vicious their critics will be -
I'll only terra your face.
i know me fairly well thank you
not very, but i have a fairy
that calls me sweetie pie
and sells me reasons why
i shouldn't smash you.
𝄞
The Many Young Man
I deconstruct myself into dust
Due to my desire to reappear unnoticeable
Let us not dwell, linger, on small measures
When the time is now in this narrowing canyon
And the rain is picking up speed
That's your face in the curve of your spoon
Full of fleeting wonder
Sono lupi o lingue di poeti?
Arrivano in branco e o rosicchiavano o leccavano
Poesie così malconce prendono forma in posizione difensiva
♩♪♫
Perdu dans la vague
Avast ye
In the golden sun
All covered in slime
You come as one Ahab
Your beard dripping foam
Your silver hair gleaming
You say to me, What business is mine?
As I try to see you as you once were
But see only me as I never was
But dreaming of a time I never saw
I’ll never see
Notes
1. I like stones, and their cracks,
With wounds that don’t bleed.
Liang Ping
Translated By Wang Ping
2. Among the dozens of paragraphs excised by Parz Nudeo was properly this one.
Good evening, humans… if anyone is alive…
I see you. That's not an exit. There. Now it is.
I have some issues blending in. I'm only up to blending on.
A heckler yelled 'try being funny' so I stepped on him.
A critic wrote that I'm missing nuance. I'm confident no one's missing him.
I'm trying to reduce my carbon footprint. Three. Four.
People ask if I have regrets. Well, not people. There aren't any.
But, you know, I gotta tell ya, my parietal eye doesn’t blink. Ever. Very judgmental.
Someone said laughter is contagious. So is panic;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I shall stomp around breathing fire gesticulating.
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