Olchar Lindsann
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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Launch
unbroken as g
lobes of spicable
de toxicated
fresh crinoline of
graphite caravel s
lashing wavelines
w oven leaves s
tared bleanched s
tashed in holden
rizon leaking, yet
retched ccaneers
gibbet-kissed ,lapis
pInpoints
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&~
“ beneath a fairy eye, assault of enchantment”
Philothée O'Neddy, Dandyisme
~^~~~~~~
“ Deities of Earth blink from their numer”
Imogene Engine, Ada's Dreams:
Distant Future Visions
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&~
grasped in veiny tendrilclaws
soft foldsqueeze
s,lightest s,trembling coruscule
s,lized wherein cut and
lisked,” he says – yet wings
s,pasmed from eht fabric, s,quirmed
squashly et numinous
hence the forklift
hence its sacrosanct regr, et
wh'ere its gone all
gone all
caterpillar mausoleum gone
all coursing comme une
gone-droppd
tear
Lastish Bow
~~~~¢~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“een bow-wow! I’ve been bow-wow-wow!
Very sick.’ Ah, y”
– Gogol, Diary of a Madman.
“tainment dirty
octopus dilated st”
– Leftwich, Petroleum.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¢~~~~
w w ow bunny slaughter penmanship
clingy pathogen I sing you into reamage, d
g seeping thru go-leman ,really
plated en lannet gassing plenty, sludge.
holy pus-tine whippoor’will my colon thug duvet
wow-sicky-sicky-wow wreath ray-gun
blit blat thorn thermometer (tis
ne what’t sayd the first time pas –sad
the digibytes the poem’s firstmost
version consumeth but here
ne’er fear
like perfected Seth springeth forth so
fuck you archons of the cloudfroth) Wendy’s burg
f,lip-f,lap coriander dander forge, crimp
tliki snap-beak bag jelly sucker slaughter pelican pendulum
the azure punchline in the lotus position
in my eye mote regular stirrup
fr’audulent as the wreaking pander syrup
letter x sticky lantern blearing wow-wow- horn
pad knack con, fusion tawdry an article the
f, easter blend c, so sn, ô pus con, junct inky ion
geurdon hiccup plunderpus horseradish âme
lawnmoawner contagricultimaterial ken-doll grievillagricola
didn’t think il should read Philo thée O’ Neddy
norat ô bandit trepan casket o’ Alexandria
fleetly you warn us in garnet ,o gorgon
lancet like fled wh’ere the flood o’ self slime
in the final of ,ô’ w ôw-ôw-ôw-ôw ? ,
very sick.
FishKing
~%~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“nce with the tip that bleeds, though it has neither blood nor vein”
– Thomas Malory, Le Morte d’Arthur
“tress
Scented bloom quest”
– Sheila E. Murphy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~%~
blessèd hawberk radius
thigh-wound broad as butterflies
ye ween ye well the foghorn-lily
canticle-like, flaccid, sifts.
Ô woe betide the faintish placards
peeling wheat from buckler splinters
stamens lanced forth plight procession
meercat whispers, naked, dust.
Passing anxious hildegard
contumely ensteeped in nectar
mash-up palfrey petal errant
nettles bristle, kettle, drift.
Fleet the keg of cat anon
ere sweet a honeysuckle floats
for aye the latent brachet kindles
harsh unhorsed, unseeded, brast.
Portents and Tribulations of Albion
en Thrall to the Towr
[from Arthur Dies, Chronicle I, Volume 4 (in progress)]
~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Our wars are wars of life, & wounds of love
With intellectual spears & long winged arrows of thought”
– Blake, Jerusalem, Plate 38.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~
firstly’t was a scar
-let pinprick bead
-ing bloodsome
on the skyskin
– crimson star
of dole, said
many; others
said: the seive
of sky was rifting –
lô said the brythic
bards be: hold here
Arthur:
c’est grew
et mere a comet
seemed said certains,
each night en-arced
athwart the moon its red
re, fleckted in the moons red
disk it nightly scraped acrost stars
& on cerstain nights bled rains of red
et weekly waxed : unto a carmine eye-
ball lum’nous looming rolleth blinkless
cloud-lidded squeezed in eht fleshy sky
et twas the Towrs (said the Towrs pundits
et spies) the Towr’s proud paternal eye ,poised
to pounce upon Armorica’s sedition – Yet
others’aid here scanned the eye of Arthur imminent:
still grew the sky-rupt
giant iris-orb rising in burgeons
til the dayly sun half-veiled t’heavens, endusked eht
southron shores ,eht fortressfringe of harbourd Sæx,
and still it waxeth, in ferment of crops in, deathdark pupils
gloaming planet in hover of star’vage in th’ætherial sphere
wh’ere its long spineful lashes blinkwhistle like spiritscythes
y, et still it cancers nigh:
until nor more an eye in grim mad shock
all eyes descry the sigil dread-descended: a writhing wyrm ,fière ,red
dragon rampant scaleshod broodant fiery & deddreamen ,fierce ,red
as lifeblood love joy sunflame vibrant saturant seal of the pen-Dragons
matte depth of wyrm-wound from th’azure peeled
:bloodpaint splayed upon Albions glassdome daily
bloodabyss staticly rears Albions velvetveile night:
High-shadowing in cloud-swaths the doomdragons scaly tail swiped above
the foamcoasts et felds from fallen & enchaind cantiac Durovernum to London;
Its bulky trunk blockèd the lumen of Lewes to Poole with heavinous breaths;
skin-thin eveigled its wingspread like eyelids closed oer eht phalanx-towns
Isca et Corinium Oxford Bristol pegged to dusting s’oildirt;
Knotted aloft above the neiredic pools of Bath its shoulders;
One claw it curved to two Dart-shots mere
above the tortop at thoughtfertile Totnes;
One claw cupped close to Ynys Wydryn tor
reflected in the glass of Avalon; but
Above the City of Legions stretched its terminal spinal scales
et over the Towr (whence but few suncycles hence
a likewise dragond hatchd
et issued from crystalwomb
hidden-pitted neath the pillarspike –) snapped its ravening jaws
teeth like slashing mountainpeaks in thundrous snap
above the mountainpeaks of Albion
enamel t,raced with f’lashing f,ire.
[ . . . ]
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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