Friday, August 14, 2009

Ena Sallied Forth

Its never too late to forget an old trick. Dr. McCredie dispenses stool-softener to the incontinent and down-at-the-heel, never once asking for a script or a handwritten note. ‘Soften the bowel and free the man’. The Greek palmist sang in recitativo accompagnato, the audience succored into a deep hypnotic trance. The Dionysian Chorister, master of the Eleusinian Mysteries (Ἐλευσίνια Μυστήρια) sallied forth accompanied by Demeter and Persephone, the trio singing at the top of their lungs, ‘Ena sallied forth to face the day, her gait determinedly nonchalant’. Slouched against the Waymart guardrail the man in the hat said ‘--sally on poor man, rally forth’.

A boy swinging a cat by the tail said "Three quarks for Muster Mark!"
[1] to which Kemerovo esta Kemerovo trumpeted “big ass fackeng” to which Marcus Hook declared “Bloemfontein is a Free State…” to which Dom los Alcanena Santarem announced “Hemel Hempstead Hertford has the best fried eel pie”, all four giggling like mischievous waifs.

The day the abortionist arrived in town the sky was black as soot. That year the rains arrived in June ending with the first snowfall in November. Calving time came early that year, the pastures overrun with feeble-legged calf’s and slack-belly heifers. “…and then, all because of him, came the other gentleman and carried off my tail, and gives it back more than two cuartillos the worse, all stripped of its hair…”
[2] said the abortionist in rhyme, his head bobbing from side to side. He had a way about him, the abortionist did, that to the untrained eye seemed awkward and unneutered. He terminated fief calves, the stillborn and deformed, two-legged calves and calves with no legs, half-formed calves with half-formed heads, tiny bale-size calves with red eyes and wet noses, he came to town once a year to confer death upon new life, his tools tinkling like cutlery in his doctor's bag.

[1] James Joyce, Finnegans Wake
[2] Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote

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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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