21 oct 2004

Kansas Spleen (A la recherche de Ron Silliman

My urine smells of coffee, warm on a cold day. Ron makes his way through Flow Chart, I through Tjanting. "Days to merely cross the page." Apparently I need Baudelaire's permission to drop flowerpot down on dull panes of glass. Page numbers in brackets! Palatino! Others more garrulous than I, what, if anything, do I leave unstated? The world is everything that is the. I offend easily. If you construed that verb as intransitive you win the prize. From Stein to Beckett to Silliman, the semi-colon is suppressed.

My father learned to drive stick shift in the Berkeley hills. Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion doze off in poppy fields of Afghanistan. Bert Lahr played Estragon, or was it Vladimir, or Lucky?, in New York production. Chapbooks bound in sandpaper eat their way through my bookshelves, until only the 1,000 chosen ones are left.

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