the medium is part of the message

http://vispo.com/animisms/enigman/enigman.htm#
















.

fair going

Sisters of the Even Jesus

     Heels unmoved in pure opposition drive the snub at various tracks.

Versions equate between patrons and liberty as an omlette of man. Do what?
Wall darkens as the second is lit, bulgy-eyed in an eagerness to know.     
Completely foul to be emancipated, by the vital beauty park of principle.
I should like some coffee, some personification of demon as genius some
 symbol of symbols some feign of salvation. Wrought on spit and reason
system for knowing shingle or brick noises flesh- out-flesh. Carpenter
cones ivory lift center rest entering lifted round chordal snaps re- entered.     
So brains shall go in slippies, weeping, washed, clear sighted.
     He stands for John and she stands for Mother.     
So John and mother are antecedents.     
She looked at John's brother who had rushed to defile her.     
Whom did you send with him?     


Brat habituated likewise nominated alive but snuffed at a luminaries outing.
  By reason of flanks the junk held. Not at all tot shredded. Purifed dragging to
decamp totality. However the zephyr indisposed. Consequently her suffix
as if leaked or needed.     
The person could warble on and on. Sustain it elsewhere.     
Citizen by what methods still do particles fade? Miles lease change not original I.
My occupation (not do not wot?) conduit--is what reaches chief.     
Revolution of loft from lack in this place.
 Establish overheard for it is so exheedingly troublesome recounting.     
No smirking. Rank side route out honour.


Crack dissimiliar obscure. Exterior by the empire. Peculiar to my caste.
Go about above go fair.






                                                                                  Deanna Ferguson -  from the kootenay school


















.....always the trouble is formatted

Night Snow

The snow lay crisp as angel's hair.
As dawn awoke the world lay cold and bare
Was ever there a sight so rare?
What light! The sun! The glow!
Take flight and watch the path with care,
Or sit and watch the show!








                                Robert Burns

visceral wisdom transposed

                 The Morning Baking





 Grandma, come back, I forgot
How much lard for these rolls

Think you can put yourself in the ground
Like plain potatoes and grow in Ohio?
I am damn sick of getting fat like you

Think you can lie through your Slovak?
Tell filthy stories about the blood sausage?
Pish-pish nights at the virgin in Detroit?

I blame your raising me up for my Slav tongue
You beat me up out back, taught me to dance

I'll tell you I don't remember any kind of bread
Your wavy loaves of flesh
Stink through my sleep
The stars on your silk robes

But I'm glad I'll look when I'm old
Like a gypsy dusha hauling milk






                                    Carolyn Forche'

Self Portrait at Twenty Years
			I set off, I took up the march and never knew where it might take me. I went full of fear, my stomach dropped, my head was buzzing: I think it was the icy wind of the dead. I don't know. I set off, I thought it was a shame to leave so soon, but at the same time I heard that mysterious and convincing call. You either listen or you don't, and I listened and almost burst out crying: a terrible sound, born on the air and in the sea. A sword and shield. And then, despite the fear, I set off, I put my cheek against death's cheek. And it was impossible to close my eyes and miss seeing that strange spectacle, slow and strange, though fixed in such a swift reality: thousands of guys like me, baby-faced or bearded, but Latin American, all of us, brushing cheeks with death. —Roberto Bolaño (translated from the Spanish by Laura Healy)

crustacean dreams

    






        




           THE LOBSTER






Eastern Sea, 100 fathoms,
green sand, pebbles,
broken shells.


Off Suno Saki, 60 fathoms,
gray sand, pebbles,
bubbles rising.


Plasma-bearer
and slow-
motion benthos!


The fishery vessel Ion
drops anchor here
                            collecting
plankton smears and fauna.


Plasma-bearer, visible
sea purge,
                sponge and kelpleaf.
Halicystus the Sea Bottle


resembles emeralds
and is the largest
cell in the world.


Young sea horse
Hippocampus twenty
minutes old,


nobody has ever
seen this marine
freak blink.


It radiates on
terminal vertebra
a comb of twenty


upright spines
and curls
its rocky tail.


Saltflush lobster
bull encrusted swims


backwards from the rock






                      Carl  Rikosi
























......

sorry alf i just had to steal this

                                      








                 IF  YOU'RE  GOING TO BE A  COWBOY   


                                                                by


                                                            Alf Bilton

Sure as cats is senior kittens, learned dignity an' such;
If you're gonna be a cowboy, son, you'd oughtta know this much:

It ain't all fun an' freedom, big hats an' ridin' high;
Or even just in tippin' hats as you pass the ladies by.
It's lotsa work with little rest, an' lotsa lonely too;
'Cause mostly when you'd like to play, there's too much work to do.

Sure there's days out on the ranges, big part of what you'll do;
The bond between a man an' horse, an' skies of denim blue.
But it ain't all done in sunshine, there's rains an' blizzards too;
An' though you're wet, an' sore, an' cold, there's still the work to do.

It ain't all done from horseback, an' it likely never was;
There's wounds to tend an' fence to mend. It's what a cowboy does.
You'll find that you have little time for fun an' sleepin' too.
That ride to town is just too long. There's too much work to do.

There are calves to pull an' nursemaid, bad bulls to be dehorned;
There's hay an' feed to pitch an' pile; so best that you're forewarned.
It ain't quite like in movies, with the dull bits skippin' through;
Real cowboys know forever means, there's still more work to do.

There's some who feel more peace of mind out here than when in town,
An' find that lackin' luxuries don't ever get 'em down.
They see a time when sun comes up to find that now they too
Can smile as they get saddled up, 'cause they have work to do.

But :

Sure as snakes all pluck their eyebrows, an' hiss their Howdy-doos;
If you're gonna be a cowboy, son, you're gonna pay some dues.

.....

where shadows whisper

        


           Leavings

Brightest guests have gone
Green furnishings are down,

Shadeless light condones
Black frost on window panes.

Where lovers and grasses
Spent their seeds
Over iron crevices
Ice now makes the beds.

Yet indulge no regret.

Mouse eye of robin,

Creeping silence,

These cautious lines,

Bear witness still

In their circumvention

To the constant
Tenancy of man.

                                      John Berger