Distribution Automatique

Tuesday, March 2

Lanny Quarles, creator of the
endlessly inventive blog
(solipsis)//:phaneroemikon {click here}

sent us this poem
and gave us permission to publish it. Dig this:

S Qua Mater

by Lanny Quarles

the rose alloyed
of spectral S


within a hollow laddering

[pulse of pale-small digit-streams, system of microwave energies]

pale savage bitterness
of password (the hummingruel and shimmingrowl)

the moment as it seems

to history

[shave any multiplier or discriptor, they dream in separation]

that plain 'S'

whose surface as construction

opens conduits

undulating topologies

of holes

and of nights

[forever can be understood like a painting at best]

the fields of speaking hair

the rose alloyed
of spectral

vivid and optical bloodcakes
by extraction
in a woven yellow bowl

[the place of the hissing den]

placed over a round abundance
of emptiness

[the peoples of an inner wilderness]

and the lapis tongue
ceremoniously robed
as some zeus or zagreus of blackinsected corn
in curls of inky steam-stone
platyrhignostic, the kitschyschitzy image of divinity

[SCOP=structural classification of proteins]

and a field of lush green rolling
a gigantic white sphere
where a rusted volvo is just exploding

and one lone red horned toad
peeks out from its make-believe hole
with a lone white ant
perched between its eyes

like a hood ornament