Canto IV The other wheel disappeared through the skylight— hands made the wheel from stone only in the funnies— really, hands made it from wood then spokes and an iron rim to squeeze it
shut : no graffiti on the east side of the wheel— tiny wheels inside larger wheels, inside even bigger wheels inside one really
big wheel— The Great Dictator becomes the big wheel— the rest of us are cogs : Celucci buys Dasius a martini and explains how the bigger wheels collect
venture capital, “Make your pitch around six minutes long and try not to reinvent the wheel” Michel Agnolo you’re loved by many more
people than could have withstood you alive— even Colonna bloomed beneath your gaze— your happy hammer, magic, shadow, breath
deepening with each patron’s contract, each project
wrapping the utmost substance with grace— Carrara mi fe Eliot’s death by water, the P&L, the
paddlewheel, erstwhile protean paddle floaters, Liz & Dick puddling in Egypt, wheels of rotors, two cantilevered on the CH-43 and the back hatch half open leaning out rifles pointed down and helmets fastened, sitted ducks for a turkey shoot like Gallipoli, like Damascus, like Priam, like Akenaton, like Horus, a few marines here, a few there and pretty soon you have an eddas not unwarranted we must say as the Queen
says, “Daphne with her thighs in bark” and Mick Jagger’s fingers in her hair : no despair, eye see everyone’s here! Whose midnight Revels by a Forest side Or Fountain some belated Peasant sees Or dreams he sees, while over-head the Moon Sits Arbitress, and nearer to the Earth Wheels her pale course; they on thir mirth
and dance Intent, with jocund Music charm his ear, sight unseen, blinded by sack, by scent and zephers— : canst thou not simper : canst thou not sitz, thou Sister Sin— Hands make RFIDs “Tag,
you’re it!” Clockworks swing the minute hand farther
than the hour can go, “where
did the Sol go?” Where faeries drink barley water like wine, “in
the dying days of their profession, cutting and shutting” We have spun out the subtle ramifications
ever since— and like broken wheels careening from curb
to curb we break our neighbors until they swerve and swivel like us into each other madly busting back and forth over sidewalks and into storefronts “America,”
our neighbors scream “America” over and over as we bounce off
each other then sprawl into Donovans or Elks Club or
Amvets and buy each other shots so we forget one
generation to the next what we’ve done to our neighbors for seemingly no reason we can understand anymore until we do it again shamelessly our arms and thighs
blotchy from
bruises past and present all
hoisted into position to roll again like drunken barrel-chested sailors whose only sin was watching Hell Divers too many
times one Saturday night at the flicks. This we discovered at the same time we found pizza differed in many ways from piazza— best where pizza can be a wheel while piazza a square and a wheel cuts the pizza into triangles while tiles cut a piazza into more squares, “and, in the piazza we drank— we sat at small tables and drank grappa and forgot the wars” we were dead, you see (so) it was easy to forget hard to get drunk harder to swallow for all that “we were too young to remember the refugees” Es war ein Traum wheels of cheese— We would race the wheels of cheese down the hill, but they would explode : the wheels would hop into the air at waist level and explode— crazy dreamers we were in a general way of course because we were given to generalizing about things being dead, you see even the Bosch generalized when we’d allow them to drink with us in the piazza, but that was rare because they would insist on us all wearing ties can you believe it? knots and everything— so that was a once a week thing at the most, and even then we’d loosen our
collars after thirty minutes or so and force the Bosch to unlatch their suspenders as well before dessert was served
|
sites
atomFILMS
< ? PoetsUnite # >
|
