IV. [stretto] [2/2]

[i.]

[ii.]

[iii.]

[iv.]

[v.]

[vi.]

[vii.]

[viii.]

[ix.]

[x.]

[1.2.3.etc.]

[II.]

[I.]

Let it leak…

[III.]

roughing the mouth

Its human emulsions

still wet, still wet

…all creaks reek of voice or hum…

“syrup, ghee, cedar, cypress”

“but It, It, where is It?”

polishing inviolate glass

taking a dip in the pool

preparing a person or thing

for contact with the [expletive]

punish the white

meatronome

rafter rot

[D:] “Here eat this ducky!” said the She in tattered states

widespread music,

fear drip

[0.VV:] Why spill me

here when I can save

it all for you?

Principal arteries of his waterworks

A dribbling clock […]

the ear opening ceremony

salt soup

and I dip my head through the waterfall

knowing not if the rest of me will be there when I look back

dead things in the offing(runaway unicorn head or the bacon-hook)

eye, repetitious –

oh but does it pain when passed?

Remembering the image of the clock. [cf. revue: “…and a low etheric glow.”]

The beating, the beating

[sings:] Daphne, dauphaphne, dauphindelesdieux:

You say:

Why is the thing I (once) passed not (also) where I last saw it

(whistling) “charms and spells/mystic words/

magic wands/wishing wells”

Repetitive motions (the wiping)

I feel the universal panic

A minefield of flowers

Daisies (or) the delusive power of loops

[D:] note to self:

“do not eat the blood, the life is in the blood”

[R:] On this day be present: for this statue

which stands before you, and [ceremoniously] grant him

the destiny that his mouth may eat,

that his ears might hear

through pitch-black stuffing [n.b. earvalve]

[rushbucket, chum] [x]

white page or fuzzy screen that (glows) behind the black velvet drapes

[a graying] secretion that rapidly reabsorbs inside the walls of the head

“nails, skin, and straw”

shhhhh –

let him that is athirst say:

(sweetly) wrap me as a Chinese finger trap about your endings

[no, tell me here, tell, tell me now in plainness

don’t look (not in or down) to know, just tell me fast

what you have already when in other rivers

thought:]

a someone counting sands […]

(thinks) ah, our sticky stars*

[i.a.] (ding.)

[1.]

I fear, I fear:

I fear that I am shellhollow

That I am empty

That my hairs are lie scattered in shame

That my words are not (then) causes

That there is no water in me stone

[scat full-sentence melodies]I pour me out like waters

My bones bends as wax

My heart hops as the eggcreams

Malted in the mist of me, and yet –

The blocking [white noise, anhedonia]

Or that they cannot hear the water-hum

A thousand endings dead, dead, lovely re-dead […]

“quick salpinge” –

[ix.a.]

and She that sat upon the throne said:

lovenotes for fishwrap

[II.b.]

[D:] “quick, while we can still see, or we will be knocked down

and trampled by the mum stampede”

[puff-cresc.]

snowpatter feet(ies) […]

brittlerib hush, crush […]

(but really) It’s the torque of the ellipse (lips, lips:)

[…]

In the privacy of me I glance you

“little swimmer, little manling in the waterdrip”

Your warm secrets

Our ammonia morning

[2.]

[ix.b.]

I live doom with you, smalling, away

Ah but in you I see my own happiness so I don’t care

If you make language or cry

[iv.a.]

[II.b.cont.]

Or dig your glitter-gold-washed limbs from up the riverbedding

[v.a.]

[III.a.]

[II.c.]

[xi.a]

“yes walls and trees drip dew and blood”

I reached out to kiss you

But the angels round you

I could not let them get between us

I could not let them in

Could not see you among them and be with you still

I wanted you all, unencumbered, without scribe or witness

Not the kind of sharing where I must find something to tell you

But (‘just’) the sharing of moments of coterminous breathing

Where the flow between us is open to every mundanity and every

Inanity, every breeze and every pitched breezeEvery f(x) [“ef-of-ex”] I die to you in me in-whorled, a-sway

You watch me in my makings and I never need obscure my rather, rather

We just rest and relieve, round then ah then and again, not unnecessarily so nor

Merely for the ticklish provocation of it, looking then or listening to infomercial-babble

This about or that right no and yes I want no not to It you or be Itted by you

(Even though I could It you easily and without effort or even though I –

[xi.b.]

[3.]

“ramp it up” […]

I want I want to do it anyways or rather I am moved

by the idea of bringing something good to you, even just

in dipping here for minutes watching the eat me away with their

inability to change or pass while I fill with wind and bubbles […]

I pass it through

It pass through I

[II.d.]

And I found It, cooing –

And love It wildly with a windfresh bright of angel and brine

[II.e.]

Any stone touched by hands can turn to you again –

[D:] “And then C. will send water that no house can keep out”

And I cripple that the bads will overtake thee –

It’s just provision for a journey

Or gratis to the happy ones we met along the way

Huddle with me under the great pomegranate skin

Its eated pages, shining

[V:] “Quick, before Baldi doles

His wake-up call” […]

[II.f.]

Sister, Euphrates:

Through mountains of gold I descry

thee

and every kind of uncleanness

(lust lie by pillow bait)

[W:] “uncover thy heap”

“…dumm-dee-dumm…”

I heard a song in Spring but I forgot (it)

[whistling again]

Trill thee to my third eye fuckings –

[V:] I cut off my key and ate it

[W:] bring forth spoil –

[V:] sing: [suck-cresc.]

I dreamed me in hotel, me in a high-rise

Hotel, a-way a-while with you, in-roomed (two beds

Twin beds (en-bubbled by a sea of glass); cradle-lined, in wool, we swayed,Precipitous high and near your bed to the window

To the toesies to the glass as spread wide through

And you begin to fall feigningly at first but then

Involuntary vain and though I want with all my being

To save you so I cannot do not move me as I watch

You shrink soundlessly down and away –

[II.g.]

[W:] and so we end we

with a whimperbell:

“kill It in the crossfires”

…an eye, affecting me softly…

And solemnly: Pause.

(soft palate) “ding”

(low) And I fear my sludge to form […]

I dreamt I was a me-spirit watching you me mourn me

I try to speak it but all that spittles are these stone-stray markings, cleavings

Or what we steal in soft moments of understanding

Traces of a thing that was there […]

take again your full number

Elijah-like

Taken as mysteriously as ye come’d

As ye was given to, unto, you […]

and conclude the list of peoples clothed in white

I’ve soiled me so and I shame to the bone

who have fulfilled the thaw of the Grand

Write [sing:] for these words are true and faithful:

“we could hear women shrieking,

I lake liquid

And so I am a waterpark

Walking with its rushing, its flow

children crying, and men shouting,

I make mud

And so, I am a mudslide

Churn me, by rushbucket, chum;

trying to recognize them by their voices

in the (deep lilac) black”

So then as well I take knife

Drawing it in and around lo the long-since

Oh-so-severable me-ness of me

And so we cut us from It madly, madly

Our long inwards and hair-o-winks peacefully dangling:

Mud died to her state as a flower

And so the cutter then is too my body

As the wholeness of play is my leib

And I am the hotel of It

It creaks me (out) so […] and –[takes his hands out from under bedspread

which have become swollen monstrous large]

My hands, my hands;

I’m embarrassed of my hands

[II.h.]

[V?:] for if a consummation

had not been prepared for all,

in vain would have been

their beginning

mais non?

[111.] nomads will compete in the construction of very tall buildings

And I, as baby, want to be applauded for it

The primal itch

[222.] things will appear naked despite being dressed

“cold, cold

the pipe is cold”

The lone long sanctity of day,

Of every inchling, livelong daze

The longest thing in me: changes

[333.] the Euphrates will uncover a mountain of gold

[444.] things and animals will communicate with humans

“The spreading (of It)”

[555.] men come out of their hiding places but can no longer understand one another

gravid like a Mannster

[666.] the stars fall from the sky

and shed out (their) dirt upon the ground/

(di lontano)

“…margarine…”

Cut down the [sickle-]sun or let me halve It

/as tender grass springing out

of the earth by clear shining after rain

[x.a.]

[vii.a.]

(revolutionize the dead)*

but Baldi won’t you

wake me on the morrow?

[777.] the earth burns

[V (gently):] come, my people,

enter thou into thy chambers,

and shut thy doors about thee:

hide thyself as it were for a little moment,

until the indignation be overpast […]

[II.i]

[…]---

The Chase

(in three pictures):

[X.]

[number:]

[Y.]

[L:]

:: “smite me therewith in the fifth rib”

---

[i.b.]

[I.a.]

[AA.]

[I.b.]

Lester rises in haze.

Thinks: stylus. Drops needle.

(in the gramophone) Voice of Ciacco (dignified):

Ruff ruff, ruff ruff –

Strange music.

Voice of Veen:

Don’t be frightened –

Psssssssst –

I was sent here by the morning star

To cull her pearls and requite her vanity

But now have bubbled over and am spilt;

And yes;

I know, I know –

You’re itchy and stiff and you don’t want to go.

Once when I was if an angel came (to me)

From East and said: do go, yes, do go –

So go, go, and up, round by round, for there

[xii.]

[Z.]

[III.b.]I will show you things that will be hereafter (in the upping) –

And if the Grand begins to shake, do not be frightened,

For the foundations understand that the words concern themselves,

And they know their end must be changed –

Look up, and see this chain from which her chandeliers do hang (upon a nothing)

See up, and hold this North we’ve stretched well wide about the sky

And feel full these strong winds yes I’ve jarred for you deary –

For in that moment there will be a great clearness or transparency

Coming from HVAC or the gas thereof –

And the solitary place shall be glad for it,

Her parched ground shall become a pool,

And the thirsty land, springs of water,

And the desert shall rejoice,

And blossom as the rose,

[pops open soda can] Ah, truly the light is sweet

And a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold

The sun.

Don’t you know?

You are the root and the offspring of Morna, and the bright and evening star:

[…] “Happy Birthday, Lester.

” [Variations]

Sheds full-body Lester suit, climbs. [viz. II. à]

[i.c.]

[I. à II.]

and he went up, and lay upon the child, and put his mouth upon his mouth, and his eyes upon his

eyes, and his hands upon his hands: and stretched himself upon the child; and the flesh of the

child waxed warm

[iv.b.]

[BB.]

[CC.]

[xi.b.]

[ii.a.]

[iv.c.]

[DD.]

---

[xi.c]Norma/Veen:

and now, at firstlong last,

the day is here that I have said to tell you

the why that I guided you in air or that it was

I do not want it to be that I am not speaking with you

I do not want it to be that you cannot hear me or that you cannot experience these breathings

I love you and I want to listen to you

you, yes you,

you from whose face Hotel and HVAC flee away

I want to be with you forever and though it will cause me pain immeasurable I do not want to

leave you I want to guide you away to the other side

I do not want to be left here without you, surrounded by all these things that remind me of you

but I’ll bear it, I’ll bear it for a liverless eternity just to be with you a while, a little while

to breathe mere moments yes of whisperless exchange

(or staying) as you pass from here to there, and I wait

endlessly in this room, that stales with your scent on the pillows

your hairknots matted in the sheets, I’ll remember and misremember

the things you said and sadly, sadly, slowly forget you

forget the meaning of the wrinkles in the sheets, your screen, your fan,

forget where I am and why we brought me here

and I’ll strain and gasp but it will matter not

(and yet) will do it anyways, will love you in your ivory spires

then again (and again)

when we are gone and pass through earth,

and I nourish the flowers beside you;

and willingly we melt us moist and vague and down (as in)

the daffodil depression before spring;

mother’s maytide ache or

melancholy of renewal, the

sighing of arm and bone that

this (It) must be so

the birds chirp and we know it’s time to out

that the covers go into the closet

that a new kind of fizzy water fills the lobby bar

that spring songs will yield to autumn ones,

being that music is always our forward look, being longing,

parasail breath will up and change for open ringing

egret feathers then for flocks of falling leaves

ten dapple-nimb-dipped toe-steps tipping (tapping) on the glass (was then that yes)

you carried, carried me away in the spirit unto a great and high mountain,

and shewed me that soft city, the weeping woman,

the springsick civilization of me,

brushed her mottled check once gently

sealed her eyes with sleep;and I saw and I heard

I saw these things, and I heard them

and I fell before the angel’s feet, who shewed me these things

and I fall before your feet, angel

[]

and I saw an angel come up from HVAC,

having the key of the fathomless vault

and a great pipe in his hand

gathering silt by the rivers of waters rivers of waters

one like the simulacra of the sons of Mister Mann

and he touched me on my lippers

and spake:

you too are worthy to receive union

to join the angel order

our spiral stairs go in, not down, not down;

that you can wait and wade it through that you can

withstand or even move with the whole

though in your loosening you stain:

that your acceptance is not possible

that no one could see this and not It revile that

that there is no reason for your nourishing love that -though still it sways abiding

gone nor walking together from here to there each fundamentally

our own and knowing full well that we will need go on without, even

lose one another in or at some time, maybe me maybe you that it

will be emptiness unsinkable and sigh and pain apart astray and yet still we

go together gladly (awhile) that we stalk each loneward step long numbered days

that in these mess-happy trailings we leave our scents, our droppings and in

musty moments of delusion will then our mulches weave as one you seem

to hear my craggy core and somehow nourish the flowers beside me (as in)

waking and knowing that you are always there

thinking on but not clinging to our latent exchange […]

brush me on my lips as you did that day by the rivers of waters

sweet sleeping lips soft speaking stream make torque to me once more

behind the waterfall wide winnowed torque of your ellipse that soothes us

so and so and so and so forever, forever and ever

into the skies of the nighttime and the daytime and the middle times

and what about the middle times?

the gooey love-worn middle times

that inch us slowly ever slowly toward a wrinkle-folded now (and yes)

that there will be a something after, not a quiet safe nor plane

no neither meadow bright nor field but rather (yet) another moving, a (lidless) change,

a lashy brush for the magic of changes, a bristled kiss for the patter of byes (…ah my dear:)

you are a thousand circles spinning for a not quite one-fold being

or that you are left now breaking fading in my heart but that there is sure,

that there is still, among your circles, among our circlings, a going towardsand lo:

I saw a new Hotel, and a new ventilating system

ascending yes from HVAC out of Gob (touching his mouth)

Angels (cheer):

we have been in travail

we have been in pain

and having the glory of Gob, and her light was like

unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone,

clear as crystal;

like as a woman with child

that draweth near the time of her delivery

is in pain

and crieth out in her pangs

so are we in thy sight, oh Norma

and the building of the wall of it was of jasper:

and the city was pure gold,

like unto clear glass

there

there will be sift no longer

neither sun nor moon nor wind

but idyll, still and windowless

and I saw no ventricles therein:

for the Lord Gob almighty

and the Mouth are the vents of It

soft rain of red and white

through shuttered eyes

and It shall be as the light of the morning,

when the sun riseth,

even a morning without clouds;

the cloudlakes greening

on the curtains

green pastures

still waters

as the tender grass springing out

of the earth by clear shining after rain

a downy dragonbrail brush

between the sheets

no neither meadow bright nor field

but as a picture of a voice

the scent of fresh laundry

and a few faint, fading

memories in aquarelle;

and It shall lick away

all tears from their eyes

and there shall be no more death,

a loveliness revealing:neither sorrow, nor crying,

maybe a lily pond

with plum blossoms

or a stream that causes

sleeping lips to speak

neither shall there be any more pain:

for the former things are passed away

their impulse echo fading on the walls and yet

I come, I come quickly, a hovering queen

I come, or rather I come as I do but wait,

wait for me, or stay, stay with me a while

along the way for now, at firstlong last

the day has come for me to tell you,

the why

[III.c.]

and after that he must be loosed a little season…

[v.b.]

[vi.a.]

and there was no more sea…

“My Son! My Son!”

The End.