Raymond Farr

Ironic Self Portrait Tasting of Cola (Ironically) & Angel Cake (Un-ironically)

In dark woods, the right road lost.
—Dante’s Inferno.

A mannerism.
Taken for tokenism. /DESCRIBED as:
I found myself.
Clever (when visible.) Shameless when invisible.

I am fifty-one now. Not fifty.

A leopard in shiny green pants stands at my midpoint thumbing a book.

In all likenesses fired to glass I sleep like a dream in my circular darkness.

I am made out of worm wood.
Etc. You understand. I have needs. I’m a man.

I trade souls with the shadow-mouse.

I enter thru doors I imagine hold charms.

I have warts on my eyelids.

The warts on my eyelids must be taken for crypts / ripped off while I fuck.

Correct / incorrect assumes I have taken my meds.
& gone off to the races.

In the race to be average my ashen countenance takes sustenance.

Whenever I boat I call on my cell phone.

Is a volume of shouts a camera that pans?
Exactly / inexactly. A dancer that puns is a mask to the mob.

Neither do I rhyme.

A volume of shouts is a case I have followed.

I hesitate.
I bribe to begin.

That which is moral is often a duty / a song that is errant.

My poem is a monster spits meat on collaborators.
But stands as an oak.

            L has K as L has M

L-has-K-as-L-has-M distorts
a threnody's obligatory process
as rummagers in mags' old images
frequent absurd paparazzi—
alpha bits gone distantly mad.
& M, in delis, dreams he is salt;
his oceans' fucking choiring
ampersand sings "time is an ear
in each rose" to prose in each gear.
& K, all his life in one room,
missing a piece—"I need love
not a salute!" paints M poking fun
unrelentingly. But L never
twitches, never moves—his schism
so heartfelt & crafted from still life;
his motes out of union strewn
upon glare. & K out of sequence
expresses bereavement—a riddle
of soup cans labeled as Pop.
But K isn't M. & L is absurd,
paces in lofts ready for demolition.

            Ultraviolet Schematic #01

Demented strange wall
Of sanguine hands off
The surface ice of
Savored glen

Even wires connect loops
Is (not) the humanity
We fling from the brink of

A man or savage song
(G)listens more than a riddle
In double rooms

In that bin
Is control specimen “fox-trot”
The Beast is done
Remains a meddle

In this bin
Sonorous Juan Gris
Stages a face-lift
Starry to sound-making

On a flummoxed violin
His breath is a taste
Off a 9th story window

Filaments Aglow As In One Glasses

filaments aglow
in traffic diasymmetrically
motors towards oar
abloom in one glasses
expressing plateaus
concisely at plastic roses

monarchs' blue prelude
films richly a sadism's laugh track
pernicious as one abbot spool mortality
locomotives addicted at all centers
drip beeswax too sexually
ride cruise missiles to funny bone.

in one version
gunfights lofty as sea gulls
braces for sevens--
a card sharp's system / doctrinal
what the thunder sd
the signposts make ambiguous

creak-walking aside
porters canepole a scythe
so painfully Longfellow
a volume resists on murky coils
too romantic a mania
opposes itself.

            A Reading at B & N

In order. [Cooking / Self Help / Philosophy / Religion ]
At B & N “summa” & “contra” poesis / effect / endow historical possibilities.
Words light up “wor(l)ds” in [ Science / History / Study Aids ] the cross hairs.
I switch to positive identity aka “sterile field of inquiry,” by which
“reflection” is distinguished, (my semblance of ) tuned like a song
One needle ~ one wax cylinder ~ one mind emitting music.
Cherubim scrimming [ Art / Music / Photography ] the west-facing wall.
Psycho-bites of “remember the west-facing wall | “windows, {1}series of.”
I have come here expecting duality: a scrupulous present, a tone.
What bleak voice refuses: “Ask tha man, toni. He’s mgr here.”(cough, hacking cough,
MUZAK, clink clink of coins, dull thud of heavy door)aWORD? the other’s libation.
Walker (his first name) (in green shirt) introduces me to POWER systems ;; thinking seems one >>>[ Mystery / Romance / Sci-fi / Western ] OCEANICmy own introspection.
We looked outward [ diverse responses >< similar theme. ]
Time arranged us / re: s + I + t + u + a + t + I + o + n perfectly, EXPERIENTIAL plot ^as an alibi might.^ In place of the truth: [ Poetry / Literature / Anthologies ]
& passing the truck [ Psychology / Medicine ] with mud flaps, ( I remember passing
a truck with Tweety Bird mud flaps, so hysterical, I slapped my thigh.
& on my way here, I longed to get ahead. [ Horror / Fiction / Erotica ]
Or ahead of yourself? according to Walker, the green-shirted man.
I recollect this; I am waiting to read…& now may I present…[ Newspapers / Periodicals ]
Statements PRESENT ::: a framework ::: ||| I peer out ||| like a zoo’d ||| monkey.|||
Only images maintain perspective. [ Humor / Non-fiction / Education ]
In the plate glass window: I appear; Codes Appearing in one hand.
I look out. Some mannerisms we hold in common belie the truth, Saith the Script.
I look up quickly. [ Gardening / Automotive / Occult ]
Steam fogs the plate glass windows behind Walker (dashing in green shirt.)
This is invention. [ Sports / Hobbies / Feminine Studies ]
This was, and still is, an invented process.
Often I’m a sleeping man discharged by dreams, so that life antechamber,may await him.
I never speak of him |post-postmodern + *lingo equals (BOOKS
“while reading) to you.”
He is able, as I am, of speaking one thing at a time, fluent, though I am,
As he is, in what I am ever and always about to speak.

Terrible Nightmares Moved In Next Door While Jersey Climbed Up them

The horror! The horror! moved in uptown and next door.
What ironic charms! What psychic iodine!
Oval was structure was art where sun stood. Dire
                                                        in Tyre remains


                       sub-text. [Even coined the links appear,
                                  the linkage endures!] I don’t recall
their odd psychology.
She used. He banged it up.
By accident the men evolved.
The women, in situ, bled between acts, leveled beams in the pantry.
Wasn't it outright that lingo cycled us,
mangled portions stunted by tv charades?
                                             The kitchen counter.

                                  The torrid [punk'd]conditions of love

                       posed / imposed

                                  upon aghast survivors.
What cunt!
& what trajectory!
We shared a metaphor, our interests like zombies as pals.

                                             [Many are whose slings still fit,

                                        denied asterisks in special cases.]
I never determined who abused
or dim sung abused.
But the rites occurred—

                                             tow-truck'd piggy-back'd flea-flick'd

by a fraudulent opposition.
More sane than her Tarzan was the insane Tarzan.
Oh, look! Stars!
Bleached by haze above putrid Passaic tonight!

Raymond Farr's work may be viewed on line & in print at Venereal Kittens, Otoliths, Apocryphal Text, SUCCESS!, Pinstripe Fedora, Sidebrow, Cricket On Line Review, Coupremine, Anemone Sidecar, Bird Dog, Word for /Word, The Flux I Share, As-Is, Dusie & Xstream.

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