PATCHWORK – SALVE ET COAGULA part II

by angeliska on July 23, 2004

The following message was pieced together randomly
from the ghosts and tatters of entries past.
A derivation of a derivation- spit up, hack and gurgle.
Divide, recombine and interpret. No new words. Only new meanings.
The randomizer can keep me busy almost endlessly-
Everything below has been written before.
Strange how even in this new Frankenstein configuration,
it still seems perfectly relevant to me.
It runs like so:
Running water is less than adequate.
my hidey-hole,
my sensory deprivation,
my sacred aqueduct is a shockingly small town, I’ll say that much.
We were, however, tossed out of the earth.
A cold room, filled with powdered lapis lazuli, feathers, gears, bits of map, theater-
The thought of packing up all of Italy..
The library there with case after case of the time- luck he says, eh?
Though I was here with all honours indeed.
I’ve been dreaming of children, toddling through fallow orchards
with a black rag and all old ceremonies falter and fall flat into dead space.
Also, I’ve got to design intertitle cards for the next axe to fall,
the other stuffed kind I had while curled up in the pantry,
and with a good many ruins.
You can read about it in full-force for a last dinner,
at which I hadn’t seen since I was shown how the world would end.
If plague and alchemy interest you, you should find this much to your liking.
I found it cold and stiff.
The thought of packing up all of my internal organs.
Please to see the shadows of large, slow-moving fish
moving through the mountains, spectacular and blue-
covered with a multitude of eyes..
They may have been too distracted to mention.
Also, I saw a giant red apple cart, howling with wolves as the operation fails-
her tiny face crumpling like a bad taste in my parlor: AN ACCIDENT –
In Padua we managed to postpone disaster
for just a little girl dressed as Ruthie the Duck Girl,
in a most aggravating and vociferous manner.
Sleeping on the street for hours also does deter.
Macbeth has always been my most vivid and frightening dream to date-
I have a feeling I’ll be taking a lot of them
Take away the hours of twelve and three.
While the Pursewarden spoke so brilliantly of Alexandria-
and the more he studied them the more he feared them.
My sacred aqueduct is a wolf.
Shrink is a blasted furnace.
Scars on his neck.
All of them “uniformly various and variously uniformed”
I’m still coughing up black lung frogs and planning my getaway.
Eating horse-head shaped gingerbread and manzanilla con anis.
Thank god for the address of an era, of us in this home this paradise-
Nothing connects, with all of our fish cases
have been too distracted to mention.
It’s good, near and not too far..
Look east, towards the sunrise and enormous rooms
that look cramped when filled up with a multitude of eyes..
Ah- I should have known then any sense of peace was to be killed
because she had gone blind in all three of her eyes.
I wondered if it was the custom of THESE PIRATES
to SUBDUE their prey, LOOT the ship, and BIND their captives..

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