I’ve been writing, I just haven’t been posting, so now it’s time to play catch-up.
April 3rd’s poem is completely self-indulgent:
She Who Draws
Kasner Codex 189b, recovered (in very bad condition) from the ruins of Mu by the tragic Trelayne expedition. If Vanderkrup’s admittedly controversial Akashic Chronometry is correct, this manuscript would date from about 19,000 B.C.E. Translated by Dr. Philip Pasquin and Dr. Louise Eddersen.
… who without yielding to his … created woman.
… is that. Like a … green, and covered in [goat?] skin, gave crafty pleasures.
One [deluded/deluding] by words, one [seduced/seducing] by syllables will …
man [who stands] at morning’s gate to gather night’s …
” … not today,” a home with a cracked roof … many colors,
few people. But she who draws the keta-ab*, whose pen is the vlaveliod*
… attention … nipples … whose coffins strip the sun of light.
Resurrected, the sacrificed generation … spontaneous survival.
Spirits who plumb the human … among us, eating, loving, and unknown,
children trapped in virtue [and] lost in caverns of [rage?] …
* meaning unknown
The poem for April 4th was written under the influence of Lunesta:
Spring, Evening, Love
Beware spring: the returning bird, the greening oak
are not you, nor fables of you.
You will not come again.
Beware this evening: the wind you feel
does not touch you, there’s no music in the frog’s
cry for sex. The song you hear is yours.
Beware love: it will dissolve the skin
that keeps you outside and the world safely in.
Breach that wall and be surrounded, outnumbered, taken.
Finally, I can’t fully reproduce the poem for April 5th. The poem is only half of the poem. A drawing is the other half. (I might scan it in eventually.)
the soul guards its own purity
this man constructed his room
as all do from remains
of the egg
from which he hatched
saved for years because what if
the sun’s too dirty and the moon’s a voyeur
everyone needs to keep a non-being handy
enough never to use