"Oh, for the love of the crows!"

by angeliska on April 6, 2004

When I came home yesterday,
I was disgruntled *see AN ACCIDENT below-
and wheezing from the giant plumes
of chartreuse-colored pollen
which has settled on everything in sight-
and causes everyone great discomfort.
Imagine how quickly my malaise lifted
when I was presented with the following;
 A compensation cadeau to make up for a few treasures lost.
Namely, a very becoming Fleur de Paris hat
(which did actually turn up later..)
and a pair of men’s size 11 custom-made vintage
fetish heels, a la John Willie’s Bizarre.
I had been planning to sell them
for triple their wait in golden ducats,
but they were pilfered from the Dada dressing room
when Nico never happened-
I had lent them to my friend Ilya,
who lost track of both in the swirl and fray.
Though I was mildly furious at the time,
any tetchiness I felt about the incident
was promptly dissolved when
I opened the door to find him
standing there holding an enormous,
ancient taxidermied peacock!
 The pictures aren’t very splendid,
but just to give you an idea
 of the pavonine wonder that perches in my parlor:


Earlier in the day we caught a little mouse.
Not wanting to do it in, I instead
put it in a cigar box and intended to
release it in the park when the day was done..
When I opened the box, I found it cold and stiff.
I am sure there was adequate air-flow into the box
and so I can only surmise that it had a tiny heart-attack,
from fright. Poor thing. I’ve quickly killed
my share of mice- but I also spent an afternoon
weeping in a cupboard at school when my pet mouse,
Schmeckerella Schmecky The Littlest Mouse
was devoured by her fellow rodents.
A brutal scene.
I surrounded the wee body with yellow flowers
and trudged home towards unimagined marvels..

Prior to that, I was witness to
a strange and wonderful spectacle:
(And I swear on my mother’s grave this is true-)
I saw a man with a dog-
on top of the dog, sat a cat,
and on top of the cat, sat a mouse.
I’d never seen anything like it-
it made me tremendously happy.

I dreamt I saw a blimp bearing
a lit up marquee floating above the house.
The marquee read in lights:
One Night Only! A Performance by
The World’s Greatest- The Last Living Castrato!
But it flew up to the balcony before
I could catch the date..
We called up to it,
and two legs soon dangled out from
a rope ladder.
A boy with blond hair and smeared glasses appeared-
“I like your dirigible very much”, says I-
“Actually, it’s not a dirigible at all” says he,
pushing his glasses up on his nose with an owlish stare.
Then he turned into a creepy Hell’s Angel
who made advances on me, and I couldn’t move
his hand from my hip.
I’ve also been dreaming of giants
and riding my bicycle past murdered men
face down in rainy roads,
and chocolate ganache and almond creme.

Needing a break from flights of whimsy (oh, sure)
and surreality after living it in full-force
for a month or so- I’ve turned to grittier fare
again, as I do have a weakness for certain books
concerning crime, and the more oblique mysteries-
Ah, to while away the hours devouring
books that only entertain me-

Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre
 -especially good if you grew up in a small town
in Texas, like I did..

The Deptford Trilogy by Robertson Davies
 -I just started this one, but as it involves
conjuring and manticores I was piqued.

Madame Blavatsky’s Baboon by Peter Washington
 -A History of the Mystics, Mediums, and Misfits
Who Brought Spiritualism to America

The Contortionist’s Handbook by Craig Clevenger
 -Not really about contortionism at all,
but forgery and fraud and eluding the law
and the men in white coats..

The D.A. Cooks a Goose by Erle Stanley Gardner
 -Don’t ask, alright? It’s called escape.

A Zed and Two Noughts
Cabaret Balkan
 -Both are excellent. Been on a Greenaway kick lately-
When the food gets here, we’re going to watch
Drowning By Numbers


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