it threw him for a lemniscate(double loops laying side by side)

he was pretty damn sure that among the sheets of paper strewn across his desk

hastily tucked between the pages of soft or hardbound books laid flat  soldierly on the shelves

or gripped in a Bear-of-a-Clip board  curmudgeonly 

                                                                                      somewheres

he had a raw piece to work this afternoon

                                                                     and if he did   he couldnt find a one

to make complete sense of it(Outside his experience) 

it was like running  without legs   wrioting  without a hand  Bic pen
breathing  without lungs 

or fucking without a cock(or a cunt for the matter of equality  --  and it mattered)

itd been some time since game was this slim and he was forced to tend the stock pot simmering over the fire

stirring in hacked bits of meat root vegetables and the darling spices and herbs he learned to savor

magically 

                they usually fell like ripened autumn fruit

which he need only to squat and gather by the handfuls in wire-handled bushel baskets

or

sundusted grain

cut with a scythe  reaper

bundled in tight sheaves for milling

the harvest gleaned 

                                 leaving nothing ever to be wasted

rocks  turned at the sea in the mouths of rivers or wee bright streams inland for the words written on their bellys

magically

it was a rare piece he would claim as his own

more likely  he was a conduit

no more responsible for the fashioning of the words than a telegraph wire was for telegram or the blameless whitened rebirthed vessel for Gods Word

                                                    except his words were truer

more authentic

words brecciated with ageless Time

remembering

of course

they werent his

and so

            not finding a piece  like a needle in a Van Goghish haystack perforce was evident

gray lichen hanging from tree boughs

beards to be scratched  
                                      while wondering

 

Sunday afternoon,  12  4. 15

1307,  Monday,  13  4. 15 Thomas Jeffersons boithday

Why not jump it!                                                                                                                            

I had to give Miller credit for speaking his mind clearly   without reservations

if one had ears they couldnt mistake what he said 

twisting it  makeing it perverse

was the fault of the person who tortured it

Miller didnt fail 

he had nothing to be ashamed of 

                                                    Chew her lips  bite her ear lobes  her neck  lick her eyes

sounded like an order off a menu Id want to eat from

and another To-go

How did it feel when you got up on the table and spread your legs open

Just like that  huh

Fifteen  sixteen  but full-blown  radiantly alive  fragrant as a flower

I pretended I didnt know

Just as she was about to come we heard someone at the door

                                                                                                      --  Sexus  --

at random I opened it dropped my eye onto a page and what I saw I wrote on a sheet of paper

picking my eye up again cleaning it off proved to be the only thing problematic

an aleatory 

                    a creation by chance  in Latin alea means a roll of the dice 

above are six sentences of the twelve I mined

the laziest kind of mining I can imagine(no rocks were broken or holes were dug in the earth during the makeing of this cut-up)   

perhaps

              Gysin & Burroughs are pleased

perhaps

             Im not one to speak for the dead

I let them speak for themselves

if they are so moved

They remind me we are so squeaky clinical white now

with our hospitals

undertakers 

the Dead havent a chance of survival against their death

not like in Days of Yore

                                      when someone may have appeared to die to those around them(who may have been eidgets) who may have dragged them into a shallow hole and shoveled or pushed the broken earth back or may have piled rocks over them or who may have left the body for scavengers to clean up  you couldnt blame them  thats why there are scavengers at all  they simply bought into a cycle of life at its grittiest

                                                                                                                   and laziest 

I know something about lazy

So as Miller suggested

                                      Why not jump it!

Shake it up!

                    See how the bones fall

Cut-up from Miller’s Sexus, Easter Sunday evening,  5  4. 15

0002,  Sunday,  12  4. 15

far beyond their conversation of the Comanche Blackfeet and Sioux
his distraction gnawed at him

                                               her high pointed breasts

he wanted to paint her nipples red   like ripe berries

                                                                                   her waist tapered to an extreme slenderness

hips flared  unfurled like tulips

his distraction forfeited and
                                             inafrenzyheyankedhispantsopenandtriedtopushhiscockintohermouth

she turned her head aside 
her yellow hair twisting  pulled under his hand

she wanted to do violence to him

Nah  he gasped 
he was drunk

Drunk   she wanted to be genuine  even now

she smiled wolfishly

                                   encouragingly

Hide n seek  Well play hide n seek  
Seems you want to play with me 

You try and find me

Ill be the flâneur hiding in a purpling haecceity

You can find me

If you find me you can have my mouth

You can have whatever I can be for you

she was being genuine

the words that came out of her mouth sounded like a spell  not English

he didnt know em  an he wasnt stupid 

drunk

not stupid

 

Where did she go

  

she waft away beginning their game of hide n seek

he became flaccid  despondent                                                 

they were playing together so nicely  he thought 

he got ahead of himself
Yah
his compunction slipped  
but aroused  it affected a rare kind of   liberatednessYes  a liberated personality 

a bestial besting

a yin yang thing

it wasnt improbable

                                 so he went off to find her in    whaddafuck she call it  hae cce ity

                                                     

whaddat that look like

God Dammit                                                                                                                                                   

he  probably  wasnt gettin anything tonight

and whaddafuck was a flâneur

she really stacked the chips against their happening tonight              

                                                                                                                                                Really

from her effortless quiddity she watched him lumbering aimlessly about

utterly clueless

animal magnetism is only half a measure 

that half-full half-empty quotient     

hers leaned heavily towards empty

he was attractive
she would grant him that

she walked past him in the other direction

he wasnt going her way

he was too despondent to recognise her

a Nin cut-up from Delta of Venus on Easter evening,  5  4. 15 

 2043,  Saturday,  11 4. 15