Wednesday, June 24, 2009

1 That Corncob Complexion

unlike the tortoise, in three minutes anoint... halter, noose, corncob.
evidence.

playing card under the tiger's rump.
"Rise, lift for shoes! Bedroom slipper to collide with..."

Behind me, mockery from an ounce of small wildcat...

The girl with the corncob complexion.
__________________

unlike tortoise, ever naked, always taking three minutes to remember anyone.

Respectfully anoint, smear, modify halter, noose, corncob. Evidence.

playing cards rise out of the tiger's rump.
rise, lift, fall into our shoes.

without an ounce of mockery, the small wildcat picks up the host's bedroom slipper...
colliding with that corncob complexion.
____________________

unlike dog, tortoise never naked, always looking both ways, before taking three minutes to cross the street. Remember?

Respectably add: an ointment or smear of Halternoose corn juice, evidence of nothing.

playing 'rump cards' with the old tiger...
get a rise out of the old bastard...the new lifts for his shoes came in the mail today.

bedroom slippers to the trash can...collision with that man with the corncob complexion.
His skin feels like it's still behind me... a mockery.

He's not worth an ounce of small wildcat.

Remember??

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

--- Preface ---

This, my second fiction blog, is intended to remain a 'series form'.
Eccentric phrases shall murmur, blurp, and stammer on, groping after grouping, until an almost-mosaic presents itself.

It is not a novel or a poem, in any but an unconventional sense, so don't waste brow time crabbily waiting for me to let you know what rhymes with 'orange', when Alice effs Jerry, or who slew Andy Magoo.

Sometimes a character or three or many, may sporadically emerge---or more often their objects.
But, the only plot might prove a sort of plot by implication, with many gaps in time and a wide array of loose connections.


In the opening 'chapter', I'll begin with a string of systematically, but randomly 'found' words, mostly just as they are, for starters, then repeat them and recombine them.
In the second chapter, (again using a dictionary & the words from chapter one), I will select another set of words and do the same.

Later, expect me to combine previous chapter pairs to form new ones---creating unexpected directions and imagery, gradually stranger and longer phrases, (but almost never, in my case, complete sentences).
Continuing on like that until the entire 'book' is finished.


Why don't you try one yourself?