1
Among those hordes
that may become the mountains,
There was no movement
That was not birds.
Among those hordes
that may become the mountains,
There was no movement
Made of foot
Hoar-horror teases
Hobble hockles
Awry rue rouse
row to get
How harrowing might be the ease
How harrowing might be the repose
And there was nothing to pour out
2
If I had the heads of three
And if i was a tree -
I would turn and then turn again
To flip myself roots up to grow too strangely
With those heads on those branches
And then
I'd rather phut
to summon birds to sit and eat those glossy eyes
And be the moan-unmeant
Of thoughtless ire
But not the humpy umpire of
the stillness rounded to remind
the ounces of the starfish tears before the wrangle
I've seen before I thought
about the heads i'd rather had
than looking how the rolling stripes are crossing stars without notice
3
The one who wheels
Will whirl in turn
About to face the whir
Of one who leaves
the reek on reel
to reeve the lash to hail
The one who wheels
Will clap his cap on lap
And whir instead of turn
About to face the steady whirl
His smell will mind him
just to bow and blow
at feet of head
But only to be eulogized
in Childish-chant.
The one that pales the untouched
Ahead Aside
Will only let him stumble over more than once.
(wall acts as a law)
4
Boy scared a lot
by the boa on the meadow
- these boogie-moves of elbows.
Girl dared to loath
by the gasps in the earshot
- these sobs had turned into the doodle by the echo
Boy dared to look for
Girl scared to look at
Boy meets girl
To lionessly care about relax
He's meagre
She's effette
And the Vexations has to be repeated more than hundred times
What a waste...
5
End in the mood of doom
Sounds good
For rip and dip and drip
And those inflections
Sing along
just after curves had tightened up
The clod for clobber
6
If someone walking
Caught with blaze
In outburst -
He'll fit in mind
As someone flying still.
(The fact is - never-never-never
,for this to happen...)
For every plash
To sign my hand.
Barbaric longing
soars along
and races with the shadows raving
Undisclosed
For unknown reason -
Tracing only scratches
Left there by hurtle
(if only there was
that clack of cache
to take it)
7
Thin this neat nit
For someone to listen
Thin this neat nit
For someone to look at the listeners
- catching the face
Unswaddled by mouth waves
, undrained by the pictures from jar for the drivel
- atoning those who unraveled their ducts
By the pan-slap
- attaining those who unhooked their napes
by the nap
When the napkins had covered the nappe undried.
It flies - the thick of it - as kite unleashed,
It flies - as wind blows
it out of chest
and only to be somewhat mashed
Among those hordes
that may become the mountains,
There was no movement
That was not birds.
Among those hordes
that may become the mountains,
There was no movement
Made of foot
Hoar-horror teases
Hobble hockles
Awry rue rouse
row to get
How harrowing might be the ease
How harrowing might be the repose
And there was nothing to pour out
2
If I had the heads of three
And if i was a tree -
I would turn and then turn again
To flip myself roots up to grow too strangely
With those heads on those branches
And then
I'd rather phut
to summon birds to sit and eat those glossy eyes
And be the moan-unmeant
Of thoughtless ire
But not the humpy umpire of
the stillness rounded to remind
the ounces of the starfish tears before the wrangle
I've seen before I thought
about the heads i'd rather had
than looking how the rolling stripes are crossing stars without notice
3
The one who wheels
Will whirl in turn
About to face the whir
Of one who leaves
the reek on reel
to reeve the lash to hail
The one who wheels
Will clap his cap on lap
And whir instead of turn
About to face the steady whirl
His smell will mind him
just to bow and blow
at feet of head
But only to be eulogized
in Childish-chant.
The one that pales the untouched
Ahead Aside
Will only let him stumble over more than once.
(wall acts as a law)
4
Boy scared a lot
by the boa on the meadow
- these boogie-moves of elbows.
Girl dared to loath
by the gasps in the earshot
- these sobs had turned into the doodle by the echo
Boy dared to look for
Girl scared to look at
Boy meets girl
To lionessly care about relax
He's meagre
She's effette
And the Vexations has to be repeated more than hundred times
What a waste...
5
End in the mood of doom
Sounds good
For rip and dip and drip
And those inflections
Sing along
just after curves had tightened up
The clod for clobber
6
If someone walking
Caught with blaze
In outburst -
He'll fit in mind
As someone flying still.
(The fact is - never-never-never
,for this to happen...)
For every plash
To sign my hand.
Barbaric longing
soars along
and races with the shadows raving
Undisclosed
For unknown reason -
Tracing only scratches
Left there by hurtle
(if only there was
that clack of cache
to take it)
7
Thin this neat nit
For someone to listen
Thin this neat nit
For someone to look at the listeners
- catching the face
Unswaddled by mouth waves
, undrained by the pictures from jar for the drivel
- atoning those who unraveled their ducts
By the pan-slap
- attaining those who unhooked their napes
by the nap
When the napkins had covered the nappe undried.
It flies - the thick of it - as kite unleashed,
It flies - as wind blows
it out of chest
and only to be somewhat mashed
