texts that change the conscious parameters of literature, both for readers and writers. from a different angle than these, r.p. blackmur adds: 'poetry: [is] ...language so twisted and posed in a form that...it adds to the stock of available reality.' now that blogger has included the ability to reproduce fonts more accurately, alpha-numeric visual-poetry will be welcomed for consideration. formerly edited by peter ganick. send texts to Volodymyr Bilyk at firstname.lastname@example.org for consideration...
Monday, April 9, 2012
poem || John M. Bennett
Sole Dadas chunk 24
Transduced from Góngora's Soledades, 1614
The scolds of sol arrayed, wandered
with reamers gemmy doors
where those puds appeared past scores,
nuts all mirrored, of candy, frying.
Riesling in the butts, no, mass bland’s
the verdant rubber, which embarqued is whored,
and salutes the vile Aurora,
who’s one in all dulcet cages, and not puking,
Hondas endured, and liquid rocks.
Signs mute the dulcet voice of dollars
permitting solvents in
all the turbans, which dare question voices
of she who anchors the fecund hay,
pissing the crystal fool with pie’s velocity,
salad’s improv, the under and over played
the Republicans detested, unstable plunder.
The prow diligent ah
nor soiled the digestive opposites drilling,
mass reductions of the music’s barking,
which in closed curves dulls mirror’s stalled briefs,
shushed plumbers’ graves, shushed the porches’ leaves.