Reconstituted from selected chunks of John Ashbery’s Flow Chart
“… the top
of the volcano has been successfully glued back on, and who is to say we
aren’t invited?” — Flow Chart, p. 167
The incubus awoke from a long, refreshing sleep.
I suppose it does congeal slowly. And the river
threaded its way as best it could, neither conscious
nor uncaring, awash with sentiments in which
the Almighty once saw Himself,
And while the fire-mind tries out its images on us
at some charm school in hell, and we can’t avoid
our reflection in these, come speak with me behind
the screen. I’ve been at this stand for years,
a thread of breath: that’s all
almost magical now, almost beyond belief. Just so,
some argue, nothing further remains to be done except
the higher echelons where the view is distant.
Not that I think for a moment …
Here a man carries bags, I ask you. Ask, rather, why the clock
slows down. Smell it yourself he said my gosh. A dream from nowhere
mumbling the litany, unaware that the parallel daintiness
of the lives of the rich mentioned in the Bible
worked, like fish in an ocean
whose bottom is dotted. Now both of us were attracted.
Tomorrow beckoned, and today would soon be then.
years later, we were divided up among several participants,
and all that mythology of broken tracks, who make up
the electorate? Each day the ball was in its court. “You’re a grown
man now, but must sit in a tub, on a comfortable income and a few
puddles of camel-stale, jotting down seemingly unrelated
random characteristics.” Leave me here,
if that’s going to help. Always on the rim of some fleshpot,
if he is willing to exchange me for a hostage.
In the real world
one is always setting out from, having in the meantime forgotten
this battle of stupid titans, things keep arriving from the florist’s.
“And I in greater depths than he,” I suppose, know enough
not to insist, to keep sifting a mountain of detritus
like a shuttle. Something else, it says here,
will break fruitfully into oblivion. Another time I was just sitting,
in one’s lap, like a sandwich.
The ads didn’t tell you this. You see it is part of your plan,
to realise that sex has very little to do with any of it,
what’s coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to like it.
I am prepared now for the drone that submerges
and always turns out to be rather nice.
We must be patient if we are to live that far, deposited
over there, not out of sight.
I wanted to cry back at her: “Yes!
I feel their aura, Mother,
it shall fall into our hands and seem what
only a small, other way of living
as one. And when a shining thing approaches,
symmetry is death. Try sleeping on it. And then
we’d have a nice lumbering, tumbrel-like
progress across edifices.
Any day now you must
start something in the sky. And we’re supposed to get on
with the logic these lines always left space for,
the grotty little amusement park one is
horrified at the prospect
of being immured in: mud and cosmetics.
Different forms of address. This stable or retiring room
or whatever you want to call it. You can feel it when the lake is up:
he’s ready to talk business. Yet one’s ego, for a time at least,
must be drugged or convinced with seabirds’ feathers,
and a smart-looking interior. Meanwhile I have
received your postcard. It likes me the way I am,
baling others of us together like straw, for the speed
of light is far away, and whatever is not glue
may be pressed into service as such.”
A kettle boiled happily.
- FREE: 20 Poets anthology
- 93: PEACHSUBMIT to L Van, G Mouratidis, L Toong 92: NO THEME VIIICOMING SOON with C Gaskin 91: MONSTERwith N Curnow 90: AFRO AUSTRALIANwith S Umar 89: DOMESTICwith N Harkin 88: TRANSQUEERwith S Barnes and Q Eades 87: DIFFICULTwith O Schwartz & H Isemonger 86: NO THEME VIIwith L Gorton 85: PHILIPPINESwith Mookie L and S Lua 84: SUBURBIAwith L Brown and N O'Reilly 83: MATHEMATICSwith F Hile 82: LANDwith J Stuart and J Gibian 81: NEW CARIBBEANwith V Lucien 80: NO THEME VIwith J Beveridge 57.1: EKPHRASTICwith C Atherton and P Hetherington 57: CONFESSIONwith K Glastonbury 56: EXPLODE with D Disney 55.1: DALIT / INDIGENOUSwith M Chakraborty and K MacCarter 55: FUTURE MACHINES with Bella Li 54: NO THEME V with F Wright and O Sakr 53.0: THE END with P Brown 52.0: TOIL with C Jenkins 51.1: UMAMI with L Davies and Lifted Brow 51.0: TRANSTASMAN with B Cassidy 50.0: NO THEME IV with J Tranter 49.1: A BRITISH / IRISH with M Hall and S Seita 49.0: OBSOLETE with T Ryan 48.1: CANADA with K MacCarter and S Rhodes 48.0: CONSTRAINT with C Wakeling 47.0: COLLABORATION with L Armand and H Lambert 46.1: MELBOURNE with M Farrell 46.0: NO THEME III with F Plunkett 45.0: SILENCE with J Owen 44.0: GONDWANALAND with D Motion 43.1: PUMPKIN with K MacCarter 43.0: MASQUE with A Vickery 42.0: NO THEME II with G Ryan 41.1: RATBAGGERY with D Hose 41.0: TRANSPACIFIC with J Rowe and M Nardone 40.1: INDONESIA with K MacCarter 40.0: INTERLOCUTOR with L Hart 39.1: GIBBERBIRD with S Gory 39.0: JACKPOT! with S Wagan Watson 38.0: SYDNEY with A Lorange 37.1: NEBRASKA with S Whalen 37.0: NO THEME! with A Wearne 36.0: ELECTRONICA with J Jones
- Jennifer Mackenzie Reviews Elif Sezen’s A little book of unspoken history
- Introduction to Charmaine Papertalk Green’s Nganajungu Yagu
- Brigid Magner Reviews Michele Leggott’s Vanishing Points and Elizabeth Smither’s Night Horse
- Jack Kelly Reviews Liam Ferney’s Hot Take
- Submission to Cordite 93: PEACH
- Introduction to Cordite 91: MONSTER
- Poetry, Whatsoever: Blake, Blau DuPlessis, and an Expansive Definition of the Poem
- On Being Sanguine: Two Years of Panic and a Response to Terror in Christchurch
- A Deaf Rough Trade: Defending Poetry to ‘regular people’
- 12 Panels by Chris Gooch
- 5 Translated Yosuke Tanaka Poems
- A Buzz in the Retina: On Translating Luljeta Lleshanaku
- ‘That is some crafty bite’: Trisha Pender Interviews Melinda Bufton
- ‘You’re never disembodied from the action’: Dylan Frusher Interviews Judith Beveridge
- Excerpts from Neon Daze
- Chorography and Toute-eau in the Waters of Lower Murray Country
- 6 Poems from Robin M Eames
- Aussi / Or: Un Coup de dés and Mistranslation in the Antipodes
- Every other Friday
- I Still Love Without My Head
- Heath Ledger’s Joker
- Only fair
- small town lazarus
- from Red Black & Blues