Thursday, February 21, 2008

Brume’s Digestive

(February 21/08)

Tweedledeeandtweedledumdedum six days and counting before my becoming into the whorl…a cats’ eye on the vicar’s boxhaul (box·haul, box·hauled, box·haul·ing, box·hauls to turn a square-rigged sailing ship onto a new tack by causing the wind to fill the back side of the foresails and steering hard around).

The oily smell of boil cream and chutney, a smeary smear applied directly to the opened spot, the hoodoo between the cultch (material {as oyster shells} laid down on oyster grounds to furnish points of attachment for the spat) of her legs. I was an inquisitive child, never taking yes no or maybe for an answer.

Stinkweed tea sugared with Brume’s Digestive and a wee tincture of allsorts and Mather. Apply the wound-cloth directly on the wound, apply pressure, repeat until the undesired affect is achieved. I was an inquiring child, never once having an opinion of my own.

No comments:

About Me

My photo
"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz
Powered By Blogger

Blog Archive