Olchar E. Lindsann

                            Jettison
                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#~
                             “or the poor by their labour lifts up 
            Tyrants to rule ove”
                      – Gerrard Winstanley, The True Levellers 
                                             Standard Advanced (1649)
                                   ~~~
            “tuation? In many ways it’s easier to talk to you, 
            generous reader, unborn one. You might live for 
            centuries, this text one tiny par”
                       – Kim Stanley Robinson, 2312 (2012)
                ~#~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                              jettison we Earth our
                    common ouroboros treasury
digging topian it’soil c’rust contemnption kings
tensious dugout for comp’licit   hock sweat treasury
talk in spadesful tyrant worm   of penury   in fusion
ring-worn skin break bread i saw dust ,  art official  filler
killer seedlings flippijibbit    spore phlegm hock ô
hack mon santo   fantasiacal in core pore  ate
pro piety of common    matre matter treasury
                                                  we dig   we dig
          ô squalid heart’hs of etherous   or coald share delve
          nor spacers dip descended or from topian skies 
          spheric furrow seeded brow  seep  cough
                                                  take off take off
within expanse without   oppressive state of mergence star-
                    dom a nation trickling down upfloats
hopeish common treasury    yet flinging meteors
                                        star-shooting vacuum coursers
                              c’rash of digging crater commune
          colony of crown  corrosion seeded ere in
                              fectless bloom of human thrust un-
                              common farmikon treasury
                    poison com,post  labour   panacea
                                        space un    laced hope
                                                  :dig     & germ 




an untactful
husband (they
are on air strike)
~–~~-~~–~~-~~–~
“rogs, sucked up from 
Belgian ponds by the s
torm, rained down upo
n the streets of the red
-light district of Dun”
         – Félix Fénéon, 
Novels in Three Lines
~–~~-~~–~~-~~–~

ecro nomo ,ne
con evit serve a
cola mo ,meter
s tree tlig hit
with a hook w
homes wad son
bask vile baker
too toot, went 
he ,won Dun
an employee o
f the wassy pol
ice precinct thgilp
suck upond it
gnosticienne w.
c. fields Don
d’un champ l.h.
o. d’on chomps
o.q. echo odd
key oat okay e
“very poor” vic
et bob nite (a w
ife, three chil
dren) ex scion
press ,g oldenism
tent a vite lie a
con veiny hence
shoptic ally ,elved
bell manifest ,gium
o. d’arc and wholly
pipe let joan peep
heave eye pair us
o, property owner
 


   The Best Friend of Cracks for Mottoes –
                     ~~^√Ø\––o~~~~~~~~\~~~                  
                    – Richard Sheridan, School for Scandal:
          ‟dessert after dinner; for she’s just”
          ‟the best-read woman in New England”
                    – Joseph J. Ellis, The Cause.
                     ~~~/~~~~~~~~o––^√Ø\~

Benjamin: ‟ Nay, now, Lady Sneerwell, you ogle dementia
à the window peevish. Come, come, ’tis vilified
witch that Hutchinson – but when she has phlegmatic
ratio, ” a play so badly qualified to fluent
The Defeat (1774), The Mended Statue, ‟ fifty-two fifty-three
were thinly veiled tongue polemics against Miss Vermillion,
All appeared in the Boston proverb press moderation.
‛Anonymous’ is modern, though the trunk’s provoking toads
for Abigail Adams ”‟ ha! Well said, nephew! ”‟ Egads!
critic permitted of British to soil our credentials’
time to dementia, and obedient demagogue – [aside] yonder
patriotic torch, O Lud! to his precocious carrrracK –!
She privileges Blockheads at every word; I suppose, 
Massachusetts provisional, you are come poaching, Miss Mercy
who met frequently censorious sea nymphs, they will 
slander in Plymouth, where captious, Mercy parts ”‟ I 
laugh off The Copley Portrait captures her oft!
young woman, Ochre caulks sufficiently self-confident to look
Like Abigail classical, she had been wrinkles ”‟ sure!
case maids, she was also so moral ”‟ duel
for admission to Parliament and hear Lady Liberty’s
Greek. ” Both Stuccos talk sentiments: [Teazle Risking Rape]
in particular vows, Lady Stucco is very writerly,
gave the Crabtree cause an operatic voice drawer. 



     For a Multitude, Confines of Europe
                  ~~^√Ø\––o~~~~~~~~\~~~
                         – Gibbon, Decline & Fall of the Roman Empire:
                  ‟mainder of his life to celebrate”
                 ‟an anxious destiny. The last one”   
                         – Mallarmé, ‛The Court’
                  ~~^√Ø\––o~~~~~~~~\~~~

The final abolition of the haughty horsehair Praetorian’s
opulent prudence’s gilding as well as of simulacrum,
numbers eight; and fallacious privileges had the stirrup–
by Maxentius, scales were expiring of lies: everyone
fortified camp: a bored lantern is going to Aquileia,
escaped the twentieth repertory–marvel–rather not . . . Worse–
but here they were not completely candid property;
serviceable stationed satisfaction claims derivation from the one
fooling the strict exemption, feels a strict fair-
gave the fatal tribute, gawking in the public. 
the disarmed capital was pursuing yellow bank-legions
insults or neglect Constantine outside of it, bring-
in this last effort to preserve poverty games
from the apprehension of a veil, this nuptual’s
throne. He expected that in fury peddlers place
names of a free sculpture, the current ministerial derivation.
He vanquished the reform to which senatorial humans
perpetual blow tax. blind tyrant, the daily spectacle,
was crisis––at hand, expiring like the nearest
utterly open newspaper frontier.
The drafts the mysterious order pushing the oration
class paid Licinius, aiming to obstruct the drama,
Chambers have claimed an exercise wants him, whether
pieces of cold gold sister. Besides social change or rev-
up sons, their descendents, and even illustrious imp–
ruptures’ vain privileges, and supported the heavy 
order twice; nor will it change any of
neutrality idols should be attentive to. The attestation
included under pediment, so up. A temple, banished
Maxentius thee, however immense, will not increase dignity
three a certain gratuitous law, one, stripped repo–
foresees ,invited, as if spanning on a pill-war.



              deal Problem
    ~~~&~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ piral inclined at 15 degrees, pass a
   series of steel-wire radii, 2 feet lo ”
       – Edgar A. Poe, The Balloon Hoax

“se existence, a particular existence unkn ”
       – Georges Bataille, Annual Summation
                                of Acéphale, 1937.
    ~~~&~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@15 bleary attributes astounded
misty teeth cavorting midst the fjords
transept circumference < 19 mice
genuflect in files ,melted as reverie
obtuse elemental ribald fuction
mired in nectar ô headless ,tree headless
planar transposition sockets ,23 mm.
moon-grasping fenestrate ,camphor of pools
bisect wounded perpendicular = cat hook
needles in agony ,swooping astride
testing of standardized xerox bisection
inclement conundrums lilt menacing ,rheumy
manic not No. 2 duplex incision
in cortex of stamp pad your shin-scrape lies slabbing
temptable scantron in 6.8 algorithm ,arc
where the cloud of scabs consumes a loaf of chivalry
16 angles slain ,on toner choked acutely.

from Arthur Dies, Chronicle II, Vol. 1.  


                           y’et Wort ,fool, persists
                           for love hys br’Other Caï
                           & hwæt   w/invertedhymselven
                           invoaided Wort b,urns
                           ,hys fiber ashd, f,eels
                                   hys Wortself bit w/
                            acid vein’d in melt
                                   à cinders hys selfyng
                            y’et Wort ,fool, persists
                            for love hys br,Other Caï
                                   & lô    imp,endyng
                                   tri–tier  pillar
                                   (& shadlow’d pit)
                           {: st’eel-s’Word agleam :}
                            {: iron’y-anVeil ink’y :}
                            {: philosophist-s’Tone roughewen :}
                            w/eche step growes
                            & eche pace augmentes
                     til eht s’Word t’heavens c’leaves
                            => til eht skies fall away
                     til eht anVeil temper f,ire
                            => til eht world upon’tis lain
                     til eht s’Tone its maw yawns wider
                            => til eht Henge turns fang-ringd cave
                     til eht Blood of Wort its water
                            dielutges   inundates
                            & st ,retching is hys hand>​
              & upon the roughly s’Tone hys foot
                     hys weight thereto bestowes;  >hand
                     tis braced the iceburn anVeil; sll’liips
                                   & <≈wobbles & wibbles≈>&
                                           wavers<≈&≈>wivers
                                     &<≈quivers & quavers≈>&
                            g,rasps @cold st’eel
                            g,rinds stonein hys heel
                                   & ba’lance re,gains &
                                                 th’ere
                                                 to’ward
                                   that thgir-blade destined
                                   for breaching eht b’read
                                          of hys br,Other
                                          , he reaches – . .  .   .    .     .      .       .
                                


                                          & the boy
                                   direly translated
                     emptied   sensefled   groundflops limp
                     numbminded , rebooted , gulping in shadow
                            & none but cowed Cabal
       (faint whining oer his heap of master, all unheeding)
to hear the Head of Taliesin cavort in weirding-song
                            & none but cowed Cabal
       (soft nuzzling at his lump’d companion, all dystracted)
to watch the Giant-s’Tones juggle lintels spritely dance
                            for arthur & eht s’Word
              & Albions scintillant despairate chance.

Two Translations of French Avant-Romanticism:

1:

Sonnet
Epitaph
by Paul de Rességuier

		1562.

Well
fair’s
their
Sleep;

Fell
Fate!
Yea
Death!

Closed 
rose,
by

breeze
lies  
seized.


from La France Littéraire, Vol. 19, 1835. Bureau de la France Littéraire: Paris. p. 174.

2:

from Charles Nodier, The King of Bohemia’s Seven Castles (1830):

[The chapter ‛Navigation’ is written mostly in pidgin Middle-French, resulting in an effect so disorienting that, though making it a formative inspiration for the French Romanticist avant-garde, the chapter was re-edited for its re-publication twenty years later, in order to conform to standard French orthography. This is translated from the 1st Edition. The chapter ‛Apparition’ directly follows it in the novel.]


Navigation

                Timbuktu, othre-wise known as Tombouctou, or Timbut, or Tumbut, or Tumbuktu, is I witte not what citie, situated in I witte not what countrie, below I witte not what degree of I witte not what latitude; Of eld, if we credit these aged persons hereat, at the perpendicular antipode of the capital of Sagacity, which is Common-Sense; and in receivende unequivocal and quintessentive certainity, perforaminating with the one present oure telluriac capsule, neither more nor less than practise it, you pley idel to plait togather appropriate unions and spindlie seeds of pearl; verily repairing dextrously and spurning circumbilivagination, ye ne’er fail, ye boozers, to laefest for Timbuktey.
                Timbuktians, ne’er would ye have been narrated in thisse fabulous and lordly tale had not I granulated some books of navigatage. Refrain thee alwayes from crediting that raving reverier Claudius Ptolemy the geographer, wherefor regarding Timbuktu he twattles on about nothing excepting bungles, tall-tales, trumperies, Lucianic charrades, and fantasies abhorrent to nature, such as cacomorphic and silenian men with tails six handspans long. Thankes be to God, that ye hath no such beatific amplitude, ye ribald autres of level landes, especially as there be myriad beautiful thinges to descry and to great weal of maynee, as ’tis manifestly possible to acknow in the sheep of Tartary. Yet I swere by Gluttonis, who was nevew of Carmentran (for my portion of paradise, I’d not so venture: not so hypercritically straungeminded am I!), that in order to trespacen against yon happie and caudipotent nation, tis even yet meet to trek thereat and lai at the door of the aforesaid Timbuktu thirteen blowpipes and the length of this tipstaff.
                Timbuktians are personages to be prized among all mankinde, lusty, bolde, fighting-cockes; passing fine in their demeanour, finely favoured in nose; equipped for all balmy games, merry meetings and honest aventures; keene refiners and scouts of chaperoned quails, and servysablie cheriching an hundred of intoned masses more than one coppe of drunk wine: forsooth, fealtous subjects, bonny taxpayers, and withal good christians as ony extaunt; yet the blithesome wee fathers gullibilize a supreme council, you execrate them and have had them excommunicated like unto sickles, for sith they themselven had miscounted, amidst babbling their prayers and little degradations, to the number of hairs upon his eminence saint Pachome’s capret. May God be praised everywhere! Stuff for the breviary.


Apparition

                I don’t know if you’ve noticed how the mysterious phenomenon of reverie comes about. Artemidorus and Apomazar never suspected it.

                At the moment when these insignificant words, The Institute of Timbuktu, gently dwindled along with the last of my ideas, into the silence which always traverses sleep, I know not what vibratory and sonorous organ continued to prolong the effect by way of the almost mute echoes of my somnolent intellect, and what unheard-of keys made them rebound in my ear, like the confused notes of a distant voice.

                What is an institute? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

                Does this exist? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

                Has anyone spoken of it? . . . . . . . . . . . . .

                Is there any other institute than the one in Timbuktu? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

                What do they do at an institute in Timbuktu? . . .

                Are Timbuktu’s inhabitants savages? . . . . . . . .

                What are the pressing contingencies and unassailable necessities that reduced them
to inventing the institute? .
. . . . . . . . . The institute of Timbuktu? . . . . . . .

                Here more or less ends the first operation of the mind in the man who sleeps, you see that it’s still entirely in tune with the order of dialectics; but the last act of reflection by rational thought is scarcely finished, when the perception which escapes it descends into the domain of another sense, which is usually that of sight. Your conversation with yourself is consummated, but it has merely changed form. The discussion’s object has become active and is now the subject. The discussion’s evaluator has become passive and the witness. Misguided meditation has given way to a spectacle. An animated picture is developed upon the lens of your imagination. You see rushing upon the benches, where they settle into armchairs, morose figures who contemplate morose figures, that overlook several feet of other loathsome figures of importance and forlorn with nullity. Two twin ideas surge suddenly from your skull: — THE INSTITUTE OF TIMBUKTU.

                There are the known localities, established personages, the costumes determined as if in a German drama; but I don’t know how to make you understand the organisation of the institute of Timbuktu, if I don’t relate its history;

                And we won’t have to seek very long, for I have it in hand.


from Charles Nodier, Les Sept chateaux du Roi de Bohême. First ed. 1830. Delangle: Paris, p. 221-228



Olchar E. Lindsann has published over 40 books of literature, theory, translation, and avant-garde history including The Ecstatic Nerve and five books of the ongoing series Arthur Dies. His poems, essays, and translations have appeared in The Lost & Found Times, Brave New Word, Fifth Estate, The Black Scat Review, BlazeVox, No Quarter, and elsewhere, and he has performed and lectured extensively in the US and the UK. He is the editor of mOnocle-Lash Anti-Press, whose catalog includes over 175 print publications of the contemporary and historical avant-garde, and of the periodicals Rêvenance, The in-Appropriated Press, and Synapse.

 
 

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