Sunday, February 24, 2008

Heideggerian Flatcar Cap

(February 24/08)

Three days before my being-thrown into the world, a Heideggerian flatcar-cap on the tiptop of my wee nascent-head. Am I a philistine, an agnostic nave-do-well? (Philosophy has been the ruin of my life, knavery!) I am Turing machine, a bead-game, a Hesse-like hiccup without a last hic. Upon awaking I put in my hearing-aide, squelching it into the grotto of my ear canal. My knave-aide, my nave-do-well-aide, my horn-of-plenty, my puff-pastry shell…my deafness meter. I have stiff bones in my ears: calcified and unwilling to waver and hum.

(February 23/08)

Our dog was an Irish Settler, a peach of a dog as dogs go. My da traded it for a double-shot shotgun and a carton of Craven A’s filter-tipped. After the trade we had no other dogs, not one. My da traded our Irish Settler to a farmer with a garish thread of chaw-spittle franking the sideboard door of his farmer’s truck. I was boy, a fine wee specimen of a boy, knee-britches and a cowboys’ hat and all my teeth. Four days and counting until my franking into the world, chaw-spittle and knee- britches and a cowboys’ hat with a string and a roisters’ whistle.

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