Friday, April 01, 2011

Umbrellas Unopent in Tempests, Part VII

Guest like bride veiled speaking words well rehearsed guised to formality disguised night of seduction…All this mythical preparation for celebration of wildened sensual ill-considered sympathy of moment of innocounter. Aren’t you going to carry me over threshold? Best guess guest can do. Itwethey, suddenly seeing grumbles eyed and not-so-satisfying, sees anti-climax. Itwethey says, “welcome.” (Wel…come? Well, must ye come? Must I come? What have I done?)

Guest is aware of veil, of uncertainty, of blushing, of white goof, where did it come from? It was a day off, a moment of encounter of dark forest, a silent path suddenly and surprisingly inviting…To go in there, in spite of bug bites, mosquitoes, to get away, to forget about “finding anything” and to forget about fears of “losing everything” and to be enveloped by dark somnolent cloaking chaotic comfort…What is this embrace? (Confined space of sparkling grey water.)

Guest take guest a nature walk…Only requirement being no artifice. No labor of scratch, itch, or safeguard of scratch or itch…Just motion, through balm of darkness, balm of silence, balm of , um , “balsam poplar” (where else does all that balm come from? It doesn’t come from fluorescent lights or even church candles-watts, what? You quid my psalm? You wat my quaint light lit and extinguished for votive? I do. Bid bride bridge stoop sayeth bed ye adieu (on but oh butt et eats angeled cake like)

Threshed holed bride carried…Spoled spooled spiled delectable…Thrush thresh your guest over your threshold that you may hold your guest thrushed and cervical or circular or circulated or recirculated or over some maiden-like hill or vale knowing in a moment of sacral-cervical wonderment (nourished by attilla-climax) anatomy is destiny and destiny is guise, or disguise or guise-disguise. If he or she or it must we they must also they to the we to the it to the abode of disavowal of proponent pronounal metaphor so that the sheen of anchovy anchorite anchored to narrow fiord be veiled speaking words well rehearsed.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home