Friday, July 03, 2009

A Sentient Mirror

The congregation of Hornchurch Essex are in cahoots with Abano Terme Veneto. Ljubljana Bohinj and his sister Victoria, having slaked (his ass stuck fast in the dark brown mud snorting) left for Ossetia. ‘-to touch the feet of Christ’ said his sister, ‘-would be a feat of unorthodoxy’. ‘-ah but to reflect on the abstract centre of the world’ he added, his voice breaking into a tremolo. ‘-what diversity’ his sister added. ‘-indeed’ said Ljubljana Bohinj, ‘-a sentient mirror’. The Hornchurch Essex congregants congregated at the foot of Christ, the sun beating down on red-shorn ears, Abano Terme Veneto, making a trumpet of his ass, paying homage to the rich diversity of the sentient world. Further down the road, canopied under a lush green forest of trees, sat the alms man, his alms cap turned brim-side up. ‘-alms for the poor’ sang out the alms man, his face tight as a waiting fist. ‘-alms for the poor’.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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