Our names are transient. & The ground is crumbling. those seem central to my reading Lawrence. How the rest falls off & away from these.
I wondered about ideation when I saw some of those words together, but was more or less reading it as a kind of prose poem. It certainly seems to resonate with the news of these days, but digs into psyches that generally withhold…
Doug
On Dec 10, 2014, at 8:03 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> It appears to have played hell with the lineation; but I'm not sure that
> much matters much here. It's extremely loose & prosy
>
> On 10 December 2014 at 14:43, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>> Lawrence, as I always do, I admire this piece. One thing that I observed
>> further was my own desire to rearrange passages, because this works so many
>> ways. In fact, moving such passages around reveals different types of
>> "story" plus perceptive power. I think that speaks to the integrity of what
>> you have written.
>>
>> Sheila
>>
>> On Wed, Dec 10, 2014 at 7:33 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]>
>> wrote:
>>
>>> The street is a dream. Show us the accolade. It isn't mundane.
>>> Desirous of worldly freedoms, we're cold. Can you fancy that?
>>> At the bar, we're issued with an almanac. Our cloaks are elusivein
>>> which we can injure you as non-participant in nightmare.
>>> This gallery, you see the place?, is the innermost of which we are
>>> the publicists; we are resentful. The obstructionists, that's what
>>> they say, are crackers:the crackers obstructionists reign. It's not
>>> cranky.
>>> The almanac is endless; its peculiarity is dishonesty; and the
>>> dishonesty ubiquitous.
>>> The street is a dream. It is the quintessence, that is, it is the core
>>> the crux the essence, he said, turning the pages of the folio which
>>> encourage us to deviate.
>>> He took a sip from his half-full glass.Of what? we asked. I am
>>> inclined, he said, to clasp any machination to obtain respite.
>>> At the bar, they tend to be frankand each a truant from the truth. We
>>> usually join in.
>>> The cretin sets out to consume the image which gives him or her
>>> succour though furtively. What is there?
>>> Blood may clot, a beak may enter the outer skinof the weather, and we
>>> may flunk. We clasp the blockhead secret, the wandering sprite. We
>>> clasp and crush, by accident, the coincidental; it's galling he's so
>>> cocky.
>>> Clasp hold of the boom, he says, just listen to it, puzzling over the
>>> carnal. He is a boor. It's the booze that sends him wayfaring
>>> furtively. We watch his decay, giving him a nourishment and support.
>>> We clasp hold of esprit de corps, he says. What the fuck? What the
>>> fuck.
>>> I sleep, he says, I plumb the wolf in me. It is meaningless he is so
>>> cocky. Distribute the bill, he calls, distribute the bill. His
>>> identity is his loftiness. We are sorrowful. Christ, it is freezing,
>>> he shouts, and slowly, word by word.Do not cause me to hurt you, you
>>> stickler. Our names are transient.
>>> We clasp the area of his puzzling, finding it inadequate.The street is a
>>> dream?
>>> The bricks are ardent. What is that? The sky lightweight; stop
>>> commenting, there's no need to explain. The vine cannot grow here.
>>> There is no community. We are dependent, he says, on inferior trivia.
>>> The dignitary has no substance and his journey is nearly worthless.
>>> The houses band to gossip. This makes it peaceful and not at all
>>> emotional. In one eye, just below it, a tear, or perhaps a fold of the
>>> supposed reality. Do not belittle the pot belly. Do not be
>>> belligerent. Cross the bridge. And deign to the confusion. The world
>>> of fairy is hypothetical.The fraud is okayish.
>>> coquette - book - crush - ecstasy - come together
>>> apprehension - conference - exclusive - bawdy --absent - animal -
>>> active --come together
>>> The pavement is an augury, outrage of reason, cold-hearted, impossible
>>> inferno, booze, smooth visions of the edge in direct inoperative
>>> botching.The ground is crumbling.
>>>
>>
>
Douglas Barbour
[log in to unmask]
Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuation 2 (UofAPress).
Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
that we are only
as we find out we are
Charles Olson
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