20180829

Olchar Lindsann



                        Touchnot
   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~{]~~~
“laps us and marks upon our brow a sign of dust. His words ex”
            –Adrienne Monnier, Valéry in the Rue Odeon.

“ouched the black masses with a grace o”
            –Ambrose Bierce, The Passing Shadow.

“ther a secret or a delirium”
            –Ivan Arguelles, The Undefined.
   ~~~{]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                                   touch
            not the liri in their laps ,touch
            not such lips to wingnut –touch
            not the secret thrisk that slides
            massed like to dragging urchins
            wherefore chunks a sign of frisk
                                                for therefore
whimpers massed in fragrant manticores
conflate her words with costco ,wherefore
            paired for blackout-catachism, risk
            silk flambeaux for canvacs, care for
            shimmer-naught but chlorides
                                                                 lest
ye brow the rattles where they nestle, lest
rather than dream-pumped marrow
the mark leaks grace-beads dustfed ,lest
            my saltlick penchant furrows
we ex the axles whence a hieratic drowns ,lest
            foresight jambs the ovular
                                                clavicle
                                    wherein our wispened
                                                nervefire sp
                                                           asms
                                                 at a touch



            or and past or all waltzing

ringing pacifier or and in on in on or into marigold lake
of or in and it swaying cantatas
or of and lachrymose seams
it melodion ringlets or and of serious madrigals

          fathomless

                    accordion

or if and or why or and it of or porpoises
lyric for and or it of and or seahorses
and the meadows of dulcimer
and the bedrock of gyroscopes
and the starboard of hesitant
and the streaming of opulent
and the or of it of or and carotid carotid of and or in and of it or and it
                                                                                                              yes



            Wholly Roman emPyre
            ~#~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  “lf to be lifted by the hair of the head, without exp”
       –Lewis Clarke, Narrative of the Sufferings... 
              Among the Slaveholders of Kentucky (1846)
            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#~

            Barbarossa drooling ruddy
            clementine oer lapdog synods
flaccid fugitive where swords sing placid
            Blaster-hacks or whipped in portions
to pavia to lexington to genoa to louis
            ville venice to milan to the gorgeant
ohio writhen slimpacked syntax defibrillation
                                    wherein chains de
                        grammified orbit
            feather in leur blearing reign
            crimson frederick spit the first
                        burning the disjunct harper
            whilst the ferry imperial
                                                drowns
                                                      like an egg



                                          Ambulator Dust

                            in the penultimate angle of tissue
the wing flutters like a lung hidden underneath the rosebush
                                                                                    wheels
rotate leap dust fretboard masthead chain-link repstrog in the forest's mute refrigerator
                         one can trade in crimp for stone
where a nosebleed like a delicate wrist is seething with soothing
and finally a wisp is smiling with its ear to the sllipscride perambulator
anywhere like a pinpoint loathe to touch the tongue like dust in gold
really the fire is merely a species of soft fur
              bring the grass a breakfast of forgotten
                                          an anguish of wheels
                            spread out upon a sail
                            and we will all smile
              and the wind will break the shadows back
                                                        and things will dance
                                                                      ecstatic



             Municant
      ~?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
           “rough this generation silence 
    and speech may appear and through 
    it the dead realm may rise then fa”
               – The Holy Book of the Great Invisible Spirit
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~?~
               ere truly A table
               sus ,ruly as, pended
               EE s, peaking en numb
               erical EEE dans ether  
               f ,loating ,dippdwing
               existed or EEEEE merged
      ~~~~~~~~?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
             “ . . . no . . .”
                                – A Table
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~?~~~~~~~~~
I wilit I tapslice I query I remble
hover ex- being ,or hang ,chaunt
Up table Up where Up table Up who Up table Up
O ex- ,OOO it ,plasmic w, hisperd OOO 
in herit ,atavist ,air flickd ,s   lent . . .
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~?~
                                                “uly
                                  A
                                 E E
                               E E E
                              I  I  I  I
                        U U U U U U
                   O O O O O O O O
    being who exi”
               – The Holy Book of the Great Invisible Spirit




Olchar Lindsann is a co-founder of the Post-NeoAbsurdist network, has published around forty books of poetry, translations, critical theory, and avant-garde history, and has performed sound poetry across the US and UK. He is the editor of mOnocle-Lash Anti-Press and the journals in-Appropriated Press (contemporary avant-garde poetry, theory, and performance documentation) and Rêvenance: Hauntings from Underground Histories (translations and studies in 19th Century progressive counterculture). He recently published the third volume of the ongoing avant-epic poem Arthur Dies on Luna Bisonte Prods. He lives in Roanoke, Virginia where he teaches at a progressive alternative high school and co-organizes the AfterMAF Festival, and maintains several archives dedicated to various aspects of the contemporary and historical avant-garde.
 
 
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