4.6.09

Here, I speak of my country.

I tend its filaments, casting forward, and with it myself, ethereal and genteel. No surrender. Not for this land of black sets and stalkers. Desire falls upon its arching back, replenished by supplication. No flag for equus. No matriarch.

Ryan (smiling)

3 comments:

Inconsequential said...

Oddly appeals...
I enjoy most of what you do, and have from early one, yet some strike odd chords, the pig fetish was one, and now and then the words spark and glow in a pig like way, if you get my drift that is.
I wish I had more time to browse, I'm sure I've missed something somewhere, but life is sometimes better tasting for thinking of a maybe than a have got - an anticipation of what could have been missed? How tenuous, how intagible, a hint of the smell of zest.
Lovely.

Anyhow, enough waffle.

I liked this short piece. V.good.

:)

Inconsequential said...

early ON.
one.
onion...

One early onion...
...Spring?

murmurists said...

Thanks Inc. Similarly, I gander at and enjoy what you put up here, and elsewhere.

Your piece above - containing the great phrase 'animal likenesses - I'm wondering, do you start such a piece with an existing text, and develop by substracting parts? It has the feel of a cut-up, with its fragmentations. But, for me, it is the odd sensical phrase which most appeals. I do like the brain annoyance, and stuttering, which cut-ups can impose upon the reader - this reader anyway; like something in the way of the view one wishes to see; which can and does kind of enhance the view when it becomes suddenly clearer, creared. Or, are such creations of yours you starting with a blank page, with the fragmentations formed from more conventional editing?

Thanks again.

Anthony

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