Empty V. by Jesse Glass

An Empty Validity

 

(for Mina Loy and Trombone)

 

We wish to inform you—

just

Heard 50 inexplicable sounds

Explode rotting xylophones

high up

against our moral ionosphere

glowed puce drill bit

Thru the window

Of the Prague news pur-

veyor

From which Edward Kelly jumped c. 1599

Beyond alchemical x-pect(or)ations

Concupescent

Leisurely &

Leasional (note the

Significant 50)

A chicken under each arm

Or so it was rumored

Didn’t break his fall

Into history

_______________________________________________________________

FLUIDIC HEADLINES:

Talbot, Sydney, Dyer, Marlowe (?), Greville, Bruno, Strange, Madimi

St. Dunstan, Jubaladance,

_______________________________________________________________

Rudolph II,

his rustic bed chamber

On Singularity Mountain, Wooo-hooo!

Karezza root-workers!

Here’s a tentacular

(Ap…) Prehension

(Pentacular Benders

Of respect

w/out dignity)

St. Dunstan

Of the red powder’s

Rouge on his nether lip

 

(pamphlet eternally reprinted by suicides’ widows

Forced to make

unseemly

Choices by casting lots

 

that mirror

the corvine brain’s

stacking of neurons

 

Pseudo

Grease spot of eternity

 

Appears not to have become

stabilized

sufficiently

 

(c.f. Marvin Minsky’s elation turned depression)

 

until significant rebreather action

gun-metal colored

WC

Caverns closed to the public

Two-part

Stalagtite:

Williams-in-hell

Second W on a postcard:

apparitions

of Olsen

in stasis

at

the neo-platonic pullet shack

Known to be frequented

By Pseudo-Agrippa

________________________________

Rambling

peridot?—deep space

golden-bolt lobe-piercers

for the Sistahs in progress

of Vasco da Gama

(The music just

Leaned over

In a particularly

Industrial way)

Gaps bracketed          [ S*T*A*R ] our most common

misperception: hot ‘n cold running

“believe!”

& drawings on cardboard of

Gilgamesh d,o,i,n,g b,e,i,n,g

In a strange hat

Designed by my personal savior’s eponymous cousin

Reduced to some knucklebones verdigris spoons

The gasp of an ant

______________________________________

Sunflower fever-hover on

Splinters of green bottle glass

Just seined from the Heideggerian river

For wings of

crushed pyrites– glitter

(Medicinal mineral flower)

That being-effort-data which is

Post-

Being-effort

*uck-essential

Gadamer-in-dialexis

Poetic-being-as

Opal-stential

Stony-iron (ic)

Not-not Taphonomy of smell

Either or neither or if and only if such conditionals apply

Spirited inter-text

Unipolar magnets

______________________________________

Free-diving-being is a freeing-up <of>

empirical investigations

does qualia

In ripped neural netting

insufficiently tangled lead to

Inherent gravitas of.

“good time spray

for every gambler

on point

7-cum-eleven”

There was no echo

In the quorum decision

Monad by Monad

Swarmed into the left side

Of the thought experiment

Designed by Maxell

E,n,t,e,l,e,c,h,y—

 

Now stop to

signal Hegel through the cut-out flames

________________________________________

Till the steles rippled

home

In a trilobite scurry

The tourists were

Content to take an all-

Levelling stroll

Among the Philadelphians

With the flying scrolls

tenderly

Falling apart in their mouths

Allowing each

To Debate the priority

Of Newton or Leibniz or Wolf

In a “curated” setting

(lookin’

Good on train platforms

& Mills on Hills

As I’d promised Quetzalcoatl

In his rattlesnake boat, I’d do)

__________________________________________

LaCasa to Oveido re: Erasmus on Moore:

“Since I saw you last

“I’ve had a daughter

“20 marionettes

“In the Valley of Dry Bones

“Who

“a-sway, on, their strings,

“In the midst of near-daily

“Seismic activity

“Flown from the box-up

“Fict or not fict-

“ion

No time for packing portmanteaus

& attempts to entice psychic husks of felons

Into crystals on a wing

& pain

Of mortmain

Tired of that folly?

Check “intense” once, “wunderkammer” twice.

_________________________________________

 

luz

Re: this call-correction:

Like the cab/ beyond /inets

Of the akashic records

The deeper I got

The more I imagined

Faust & his regmaglypt platen

The deckle edge of

Idi Amin’s library

of useful knowledge

________________________________________

Behind the 6 shapes

Of this room-doored, 2-

Story, 3 hourly

et alia

gods

Nod re: rowdy Kulcha’s 86’d

Brotherly structure

I mean stricture

think: Blake or Turner’s

______________________________________________

 

Cuneiform explanations

Of ominous dog fish

Is now all the attraction’s

Given to subtraction’s

Additions

To the algorithm’s

interior

convections

_______________________________________________

 

Re: the connection.  Plugged

Or unplugged.  One glittering organ

Is a variant.  One variant

Addresses the selection: “The

Question is now addressed.”

But is it sufficiently

Answered?

Can a sufficient response be guessed?

_______________________________________________

The great cockroach sprawl

(Bach’s

Tacatta ‘n Fugue

In Dee Diner)

methane “Ha Ha!” skies

abysses enough to bury

Saudi high rises

With swimming pools up to and including floor 160

Stack fragment on fragment

To reach the pillow talk

Of the gods

& a blow job disguised

In a voice-print

even at the stationary

steam engine exhibit of 1855

all the user

Manuals misquoted Diderot

mis-

Quoting Kant’s

predicting

Blanchot’s

Debt to Derrida

(note the perfectly acceptable

Paradoxical post-pre-influencing as in

Zuk’s

mid-last-century iambic

pre-post-positioning

Of frantic

Catullus’

Reconstructions of Agassiz’s

Preoccupation with the antediluvian)

Not everyone can work up the moral courage

to change pledges into

plot lines much simpler

than Mahabharata book 15

while being done to

& engaged to

Or pretended to

To run a-Monk

As thousands screamed

(same place)

“no escape”

(same place)

“Bag’s Groove take I”

his eventual admission to King’s college

(different place)

“Oh you fools,” he told them, “Go home for shame.  Things of this manner

Are impostures and base lies.”

One thing that “is the case”

Is not

Astrology’s daily consulted

Whorascope

But the much-maligned Principia’s

Fudged equations

_______________________________________________

of Methodical-Being

Stein-slothfulness-rightaway

Get ready for that big splash!

Just rollin’ round jellyroll

Tap-dancing

Celebrant

Pro-wrestling

saints

of the Pure Land

Not a lurid goth Kerballer’s

Phenomenological

Lion attacking an ontological bull which could be

Ahura Mazdha vs. Ariman

Arp vs. Tauber-Arp

Gozilla vs. Mecha-Gozilla

Popper vs. Wittgenstein

Haystacks Calhoun vs. Da Crusher

Josephine Jacobson

Seeking falsifiable science

On the way to Ibaraki-ken

To examine tels of clam shells

Whose significance was yet to be documented

On dance floors all across Paris

_________________________________________________

 

The cob-webby

enochian

Corpus of opinion

Suffers to be

A power set of micro-sets of nano-sets

green as baby shoes

(crafted in purgatory)

cast in brass

to make ashtrays

61 summers

Ago

(electron

Microscope)

Discussed in Photoplay

Dissected in Mind

Listed in phonebooks under A for Angel

____________________________________________

A

Root

Much

Enlarged

Shows

Cells

And

Hairs,

Bro

___________________________________________

Shattering Sargon II’s

omen-freighted kiss

With one shotgun blast!

“One can only hate so much!”

Liszt rumbled on the adamantine

Pianola

Hands full of hammers

Sacred to Calliope

___________________________________________

Trying to maintain

Kulcha

Among the angry drones

At St. Elizabeth’s

Conceptual prison:

“Farewell happy fields!”

Another:

“It’s terribly cold in here.”

Calls for a sip

Of anti-“Weep

A deep trickle”

solution

Or a garbled quip

On the moist make-over:

<<Une lampe et un ange qui

<<Forment un meme corps,

<<Voila ca que l’on ne doit

<<Pas souvent.>>

& the spinning of myth

_____________________________________________

On a more personal note: Those ears now fallen into cyber-Malboge

Never cease hearing the cries

Of Turing, Von Neumann, and Uri Gellar

Crying for relief

from complexity

________________________________________

Harem-quorum:

“A

Two-headed

Turtle,

A

Crab

With

An

Eye

On one

Side

And

A

Feeler

On

The

Other,

‘And

A

Child

With

Two

Great

Toes

On

Each

Foot.”

There’s absolutely

No proof

Of divine

Circumspection

In Zuk’s terse prickdominance

To “L.N. of the Spring,”

Bro,

Or Humboldtian

cladistical

intentions here

An unlikely

Routine for a panic-

Ing

jizmatic

retinue

_________________________________________

Lit up like—<<galvanized>>—like—man,

A Jansenist–like

Not-Nunnery, man,

No matter how many days

You look at the scales of Not-it!

Saint “ovipositor”

who seized a pop-rivet factory

For a Proustian,

“pop-riveted reality”

To correspond with current analytical concepts, then

To commemorate

The truth around them

To the groaning tune

Of

__________________________________________________

A concise moaning of Tyger! Tyger!

By a failing Makar

“strings in his thin neck stood”

Grounded in the contingent

Burning bright

Imitating budgie birds

On the sly

A priori

“Deo Gratias”

With a gob of praline

sparkling in the part of his hair

dreams of a 20th century Shekinah

in the libraries of the 21st

which makes him a C,u,b,a,l,i,s,t,a, by default

wearing a zorro cape

also helps

__________________________________________________

Why is it the most interesting things happen

In the backgrounds of Bosch paintings?

& rarely in the fore?

___________________________________________________

daubing at newspaper

silverfish with chop-sticks wrapped in gutta-percha

& scissoring the Police News for 1912

Into particles of wonder

(this is no noodling,

This is a SYSTEM)

Liszt propped

A “randominity”

At midnight

On a slab of Goethite

Banging out glory

For those who seep light

And we thought upon seeing him “here was a man!”

____________________________________________________

 

Those intent on

Kerchief-waving

Could signal

Orthogonal frenzy

From two sans-culottes behind the newly-exhibited patent Double Windows

Martial

Is one of my heroes

Weeping Vexations?

Incising spirals on sheets of bog-copper

Could be the solution

For AMORC’s anomie.

As they signal en mass to the next

Optical

Telegraph

Station

Via colossal

jalousie windows

In the castle Benjo

When Martial says: “You are a sodomite”

He usually means it

But I’d check the translation,

bro

___________________________________________________

Doing the patented friable-chacha

Fast forward to Lola Montez’s

Spiritual fingerplay to

Nolde’s postcards of woodpeckerish youth

For Nostradomus’ Hister

To forward from the Bayreuth

tuba farm

a singing post man

for Madame Forster

Who, yet jealous of Lou Andrea-Salome’s “hug me forever” Kundarbuffer,

develops a curse of a cough

Worthy of bell ringing families

(tinkling familiars

Counting the witch marks)

_______________________________________________________________

Jump-cut to customary

Rates of consumption

Broken precisely in 2

Lungs

&

A liver

“Great Day!”

Sealed in the hull

Of the Great Eastern unrolling

Rusting green cables down the streets of

Atlantis

Bro:

“The

Star-fish

Has

Eyes

On

Its

Arms.

(Tur

Ing a-

Gain)

The

Slug

Also

Has

Eyes

On

His

Horns.

The

Snail

Has

Eyes

On

The

Two

Longer

Horns.

Poop

Poop

A

Doo!”

(Exfoliations of

American ok!)

The old newspaper’s typo said: Kaut’s Critique of Reason, $1.25.

The older newspaper’s typo said: “Edgar Alan Poo”!

Both now digitized for ease of access.

__________________________________________________________________

(n.b. Holderlin & Nietzsche’s

“Language[s] all their own”

Were never truly

forgotten

Bohemian holmes-wackers

take alfo of red Roxtan,

and work him through the

 

fower fiery degrees, until they

have his Audcal, and there muft gather

 

him.  (this condition is the reason why silver is

 

everywhere called by the Sages the perfect female body)

So doth it become Darr, the thing you feek for: a holy, moft glorious,

red, and dignified

Dlafod.

(book of

Soyga)

Impeccable

Daugerreotypists

Never forgiven

Behminists

Wonder workers

Turned to tin-type Constructivists.

___________________________________________________________________

Riddling rain-maker:

Explain the significance

Of spring-like weather in the midst of a nightmare)

Talbot, Sydney, Dyer, Marlowe (?), Greville, Bruno, Strange, Madimi

St. Dunstan, Jubaladance,

Don’t know/don’t care

 

Translation 1:

 

Charles Simic

Never wrote back

Tho I sent him

A nice letter

& called him

All the way

From Japan

Poets are asses

Even if they’re

Not half bad at

What they do.  I

Know at least

100 people who

Would tell you

What a sonofabitch

I am, & I would

Have to agree

So why fight

The inevitable?

(I wrote those

Last two lines

25 years ago

Pencil stub

To passport)

Stepping down

From a train into

A steamy country where

Everyone could po-

tentially

shatter

One’s jewels for some-

Thing One’s an–

cestors did to their

Ancestors

On tropical beaches

(Each breath a bargain)

Made of stressed granite & be-

Cause One never be one of them for

Ever & ever

No matter, Lafcadio

Hearne even

Complained

Of this—yes EVEN

HE!)

We’re all close

To madness

& vain as peacocks

& peahens end-

Lessly clucking

Into the keyhole

Of the master

Locks of language

Skeleton keys

Growing flesh-colored

aphids second-fleshing our

over-sized hands

(My laughter cold

As the shaking of scalpels

In a nylon bag)

The best of them

Manic-depressives

Mixed-up, fucked-up

Fools with chips

Wide as a super-charged

Diorama

Of Mediterranean

Sunsets

Or “A trip down

The Missississippi”

On their slabby, hod-carrying shoulders

Axes to grind

Head thrown back

Day growing brighter

As they scream to the

Lifting fog

As they

Attempt to fit

All of

Dundalk between their

dentures like a new

word

& I can tell you

Honestly that I’m

Not to be trusted

Alone with your

Cultural assets

(so Bacchus was

Rendered effeminate,

Nietzsche-like)

Born with 2 sets o’ teeth

And a sawed off

Brain-pan

As I was

Roratoring from the O

& a dead snake

In my infant fist

(Elias Artista

With a winking bird

caught in his cod )

Face collapsed

Around a cigarette

(anger of scaffolds)

I sign my shadow

With a splash of spit

snap roses

From the summer air

& walk the hell on

(To the show-down

After the hoe-down)

 

Translation 2

 

1.

Mother!  Father!

Your names ring

Like artillery fire.

 

You move

tenderly

towards me

& throw yourselves down

on my right

& left sides

 

exploding

tearing up ground

yet no steel

touches me.

 

This is my flag

of truce.

(I surrender.

I surrender.)

 

You lie

tied

together

at the hips

w/rusted chains & wire

in a bed

as big as

a stand of trees

& only there can

the possibility

of love exist

you say–

clean love like

dolls w/porcelain heads

might know

or a new locomotive

before it touches rails.

 

 

2.

I wear my

Feed store cap

backwards

& sing

like a simple muzek

from a Tolstoi novel as I

limp through these fields/wrists

bound w/bailer twine

a gash in my groin

large enough for the red

wasp star to shine thru

 

Swing your big guns away!

Mother–lower your nipples

that I might prime them.

Father–lift me to safety

in your

calibrated arms.

 

Swing yr. big guns away!

 

I will feed you

rocks, nails, splintered iron

if I must

line you up

touch the fire

to your hole w/out

flinching

throw buckets of water

across your backs

to cool you

in summer

& I promise to

swab you clean

& polish you forever

until my reflection

glides across

your curves

thrust my admiring ear close

to your mouths

to hear you whisper

of all that you crush

w/the tips

of your whistling tongues.

 

3.

See my lymph drop

on yr. harness–

I am the caisson horse

 

pulling your mechanisms behind

me

up a mountain trail.

The horizon juts

against the stars

–Venus glares above

her couch of clay–

while you clatter through ruts

repeating

your single note

like love birds made of steel.

 

It is so good

to see a couple your age

strolling together

thru the wilderness.

It is obvious

you have not lost your

way.

 

Father, your virility

is astounding.

How many balls

of glowing iron

do you spew daily into the night?

Mother,

although you admit to a smaller bore,

in my eyes

you are just as accurate. The

daintiness of yr. wheels,

the blades on your carriage,

defend your femininity

against

all attackers.

 

You caress my flanks

w/tiny whips.

I call out to you

in joy.  It is

so good to toil

for you!  You overtake

me on a downward

trail.  You push me

aside, & rightly so.

I must follow your

dancing arc into the

bushes.  I lift my head

 

to smile at your muzzles

before you loose

your blessings in my face

 

This is an unpublished section of a long poem project of mine: Gaha Noas Zorge—a text based on, worked by and through, commented with and on, John Dee’s Spiritual Diaries.  In this section I “translate” the first section into a meditation on poetry, and then retranslate the translation into a meditation on the possible pathology behind text creation re: Freud and also Jung’s collective unconsciousness.

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