canto cxviii ( i forget the most important things)

#15, jakarta




in medias what res ?

‘i am happiest when i follow
how things sound.’ —

im startin to get
       patterns tics repetitions
       the ferris wheel

               off yr mind

i get 
       you cherry
       i get
             you lil raccoon 
                                    of my hearth

in 1876 Rimbaud set sail for Java
    in August Batavia
                         flayed his boots along Molenvliet
                         jogged along Weltevreden
                         on the Kwitang Bridge:
                               Jules et Jacques debated the latest fashion in womens hats

Rue de la Paix

The Opéra were in their last run of (do more research)


Do you read
these things 
lil raccoon 
of my hearth ?

a lil bit of Marjorie
          a dash of Hugh
                   a decade of pattern-making

in early Dec. R. got the first merchant ship out 
                you know why

NO-ONE cd hack the south bound procession of Casteel Batavia
            Imagine me
            w/out you

the gangrene has seeped into my crotch

c’est pour toi
let the bacchae

burn myrrh all nite long

KNOW what YOU want to DO

i wanna paint the sky-wide cloud 
             the red of yr labia (PANTONE do more research)

i want to be Catherine the Great
          trail my train across the blood-red snow

No one misses you
‘cept Remus
one teat less to suck
(sure youve put that
into consideration)

Regardez toi!
          thats what I tell myself
                   (not to do)

Ive never ever tried to write Paradise
          Oublié moi!

          In 1928 a bunch of louts descended into 
          the capital and decided on a lingua
          franca strange

          Something simple and malleable
          for the (forget—do more research) grammata
          common market-man Malay!

          no c no j no v no x no u no you

’tis hopeless when I try to write Paradiso
          like you me the rest of this
          cunt tree

                   in 1945 a couple of louts in muslin declared
          independence in real time and a mangy dog walked across the first

Someone wore a suit bespoked out of old curtains
a jodhpurs cut off above the knees

Do you know the mythologoi simulacra simulacrae simulacri of this
our belovéd 
cunt tree

Lil raccoon of my hearth ?   

Do ya read
me ?

In 1965 a river of blood
               ”     ”     ”  heads
               ”     ”     ”  body parts (random)
               ”     ”     ”  i dont give a fuck anymore its boring

lacking the moral fibre
of the average persons brain

[see lil raccoon of my heart im now sittin in a pizzeria somewhere at the back of my mind next to me the three Magi (Chinois) theyre debatin the eco-friendliness of screen printin vs digital the image of choice wd be the standard portraits of Bung dan Bing Soekarno-Hatta]

Imagine that
lil big raccoon of my hearth !

    in 2008 forget it
a rickshaw driver who was


in 1996 leaves still
traces in the sand


Do ya read
          moi ?

My heart broke when I saw yr last 
            YM! status why do ya

in 2009 pretend a general election
           will ignore primary results
           and go str8 up the caucus

Oublié libre seduis-moi!


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