Raymond Farr

Homage to “Yew,” Joan Retallack
& to”U”, Caroline Bergvall

doubly doubled discipline doubled in site of cages
penning “yew” John Cage & “ewe” Joan Retallack

“yew” echoes ew (ME): doubloons among fangs among hung hapless chaps on the dole
“you” echoes eow (OE): catalytically an ode as a mite looking euphonic at tsars
“ewe” echoes “u” echoes “hue” echoes “runes’: states of Looking-Glass-men troubled
by digs & smaller digs still
                               (the excavations of air between) (y)ear’s versatile planchet
of “yew”
astray as a lamb on the lamb after hanging up on the charm of “ewe”
what bizarre survives by counting      articulates a U       interim in order
to sleep
at an angle only herd

“Sanguine” (just as sane Gwenn)
exists as shredded, pliant panoply
piques of feigning jest in gesture:

          an archer’s bow of yew / Anne Archer’s 45-degrees-left-or-right-from-center-of-her-yatch-
entails a tale instantly intaglio’d
encroaching (misheard?) interpreting preposterous half-analogous—

“Hurry off, now, you twos, you bows, in mystery, in sentences of (drugged?) ululation,
clocked in the yew wood of you-would-in-love.”

The Wrath of Lab-rat

M(y authe)ntic ray gun *explosive article is))) ;;;;;;;;;charged now -for my sublime crime spree. (And this is a fact beyond our comprehension?) Dear Police, come get your Babbitt,
we’re alone in this here theater, as Oswald’s yet to show. Signed, I, a Gangsta
. [ W ]e’re suspects, the lot of us: Oswald, who’s just now arrived, breathless and flushed, and Babbitt, ;;)
his eyes f*ixe*d on th(e scre)en, and I, Lab-rat, lost in moody underworlds of scripture,
madness, and shadow, a world so
disclosed as to become seductively disarming, “a” charmed ////Eden “click( I ) ( n ) ( g ) with what Oswald called?? his “odd boat-loads of sins and sinners;” 2two men and a lab-rat vividly conscious, _n one hand, &and n/yet confounded, “on BRO’Sthe other. [The movie played. ]Oswald stroked my lucid homophobic paranoia. “I” f”o”u”n”d” “I” “s”o” “l” “o”v”e”d” “ o””u”r” restless nightmare of a nap in that Dallas theater, half-surreal, half-totally sane, that I loved (and loathed him) simultaneously, as any animal would have, and squeezed off historical round after round of hate from my blubbering plastic boyhood ray gun.

After multiple “cracks” conceived upon Dallas’s “sunny, grassy knoll” I rolled rolled rolled my instinctive cigarette, &and& waited. Thee, loci-of-this;;;>>>>> is: now>>>> & now>>>>> & now>>>>> & now. >I, Lab-rat, rolled my instinctive cigarette. Our plan, our only contingency: Oswald’s wildly cinematic uber-slaughter demise. Only “movie projector” seems ^^;;consequently apt./))))) “a” curse upon thee, LAWN CHAIRS AND CAMERAS AND SANDALS OF MANKIND cameras&andsandalsofmankind: Perverse jottings, unruly perspectives, Babbitt-like ironies will sit beside you, America, as you wave from your chairs along the parade route. And your sunglasses will blind you! So, for your own safety’s sake, I desire that you stand back of this line, and &&&&&&&differentiate, quantify, calculate trajectories, if you’re so inclined. U R / U R / U R / U R /You are not now, no, nor have you ever been: Lee Harvey Oswald, Jack Ruby, Fidel Castro, J. Edgar Hoover, or JFK. Caught in the XXXcrossVVVXXX

Icy monte blanc::::::;;;;;;)))))

XXXXXXXXX hairs of a [busy Dallas thoroughfare,] you are Lab-rat, the mysterious third3rdassassin, the rodent-like avatar of pandemonium’s untranslatable


Raymond Farr Raymond Farr lives in Ocala, FL. His work appears most recently at Bird Dog, Pinstripe Fedora, Apocryphal Text, Word / for Word, Anemone Sidecar, Little red Leaves, Dusie, & Otoliths. His chap book, Two Hats Appear When Applauded, is free on line at dusie.

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