Raymond Farr

My Name Is Rut

We were discussing.
My cronies’.

Crenellated opus of.

A series of.
Crab legs. Walking.

cake Nebulae of.
The impossible.
extolled by cuticles’ tedious inverse.

I appeared. Halibut.
In verse.

I sampled. Dusted off mania-crepes.
To some.

Raccoon stills.
Among the.


Ivors’ Box Paradox came running up.
Like an egg.

In this box.
(by way of Bohemia, invisible—1899).
There are no synonyms for swagger.
(except swagger itself).

Or antonyms.
                               of vicious
                                              Non sequitars /12 string guitars’
                                                                  Duplicity of
& nothingnesses.
& thus everythingnesses.

Are familiar (e. g. an envelope).
& unfamiliar (i. e. a noun).

I was the glee of a swan.
One delicious summer afternoon.
As though cheering a face on.
In the after thought.
Of dusk.

I seemed wrinkled & terminally spiraled.

Itself a statue of:

                               (blonde vertigo—

& our one exit to our.

Olive grove kisses.
Seems a task.
To recall…

& worn as though dead.

A face, a look (, as promising its opposite.

Who am I you ask?

Well, my name is Rut.

I am the blue ice rhino-flamingo having babies out of wedlock.

I inherit emotions.

The art of my deal.
Is the tear of the dead pelican.
Of pilgrim exactitude.

, unable
To compare itself to

Misdiagnosed Existentialism

One hubris Christmas
Sucking air

I suffered a bout of mental conjure frenzy

More telling Crisco Oil than
(Focus) delving

I misaligned cholesterol sitting in both my dozens

A wolf punch in the stevedore of the blue
Hit me like timeless eating

I killed weeping viper wheat buckets blotting out dozens

I floated in freely
On a twelve foot

A doughnut retreated up Ventura Hwy

Crawling with Art stands
& aphorisms
I watched the tube in plain sight de-tube itself

I melted upwards of corn & cigarettes

A repast of twin bladderwort
I relished an ox tail

I diddled crazy waddle-shoes to vent the fridge

Maybe a mapped eleven
Sour tongue eventually

A sour tongue Event Horizon (blacker, & more sheen)

A corpuscle event
Many hurried to

But escaped oven text
The aromatics of which were beef au jus

Pleased & sending

The gem of same as KFC chicken

Same as an Eggo
To elk in a rut

Annealed like an exit
The fire of pies

The harrow of want

I hunger never more
A nerve ending buffet of nerves & subtext

Teeth than
A stove going out

Was grabbing the grub
The essence like sugar

An hour about species

The tv with syrup makes war like a Pop Tart

I exist in a void
Where the calories are bland

Signed, Rölf
The conversation is bouillabaisse appears blasé

A beet up Iron Chef
Whose exit sign reads: shaving monkey, manipulating boot

A breed of orange tabernacles
Delicious citrus leaves me wanting

Never more
Subtle than

Chicory mill
Lady fingers
The epitome-stomach of ghetto-blast is iron-clad dieting
On/off latex fungus survival banjo candy

The chef here is mad
He devils the dogs, the eggs

He cooks with his shoes

His last supper’s a bon-bon
In which a cookie precedes essence

Unlike existence
That intransitive soufflé

A pie is a state
Of dismembered members
In the onset of

Hunger’s apocalypse

Ask Murgatroyd
He knows what the shit is

He desires your presence, your tomato bisque

He slathers yr god
Like jam on a cracker

He slathers a rice grain
Flavored with Maalox
& dies before dying

His edits are living edits & this drives him mad
One cookie monster
& milk at a time

He is roasted with wise cracks
I require the salt

What is this rotisserie chicken
I vomit
To survive?

Having Nine Ten Trajectory

Being drawn up

A plan

Grabbing little tussles
Flitting little titters

I got mapped
By yr dialect

A man-weasel bent on
Scissors with running

I deadened the muffin tin
Till a rough ‘n one came


Perplexing pretzels

Having nine ten trajectory

& Impossible mustache
As though eleven as though

11 pm

A bus drives away


A lie
To tranquilize

The recombinant
Don Juan Gris

As a nail

In a state of

Hoppy birthday
Silly hare

Ball & staggering debt
Of lover on fire

I wander half staged

Half crinkled up bill

Dollar hallucination

Upstairs traipsing

Heretical scans fixing a point

Doing the dance of the fox trotting voice boxes

A blur of blue & white

Toted &

Of red plastic skin differences

A marvel geology
On Hölderin’s head
Still sinks
The marble in
To solar ribs

With tan (I dote)

Positioned as though

Raymond Farr lives in Ocala, FL. He has published widely in recent years. His work appears in Otoliths, Cricket On Line Review, BlazeVox2kX, Letterbox, Ditch, The Argotist On Line, Cannot Exist, EOAGH, Moria, Kill Author, Clutching at Straws, Text Base, Xstream, & Apocryphal Text. He had several poems included in the first Sidebrow Anthology and guest edited issue 6 of Pinstripe Fedora. He has a chap book, Two Hats Appear When Applauded, available free at Dusie. His first full length volume of poems, Two Texts (Chalk Editions 2010) was followed by big strange wall (Radio Free Dada Press 2010). Both are available free on line. Visit his blog mjonesrview for email info and more samples of his work. He is editor of Blue & Yellow Dog.
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Blogger Arkava said...

well Mr Dadaist it's always great to pore over yr texts. the first one won me over tho with its mention of the Box Paradox. love the stuff. keep 'em coming

1:08 AM  

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