Friday, July 16, 2004

 

Problem

A time machine carries
cargo that consists of chickens, wheelbarrows and plums.
It travels from the Land Beyond Beyond back to the day before the Earth stood still
at a rate of X miles per hour.
(X being the sum of extrapolated hyper reality squared.)
During its journey,it gets sucked into a black hole,then spat back out,
replicated a multitude of timesand thrust into a corresponding number of realities.



Question:
In which of these realities is it (was it, will it be)
the case that Mrs. WCW discovers (did discover, will discover)
that the plumbs are (were, will be) missing from the ice box?

Bonus Question:
In which of the above-mentioned realities
would the chickens and wheelbarrows be wet?


Wednesday, July 14, 2004

 

Mysterioso

A grey owl sleeps in a blue room
where a white witch uses a red broom
to sweep tan mice onto a green lawn.

On the green lawn,
lies a pair of black velvet gloves
which are covered in dried criminson blood.

The blood belongs to a brown man
who wore an orange dress
and owned a pink pig.

The pink pig cries clear tears
of colourless griesf
for his dead brown master.

Back in the blue room,
the white witch now uses the red broom
for other purposes.

And the grey owl wakes up
and flies out to the green lawn
and begins to eat the tan mice.


Rewrite 1:

An owl as grey
as the contemplations of a postmodern theorist
sleeps in a room as blue as an off pay week
while a white witch uses a red broom
to sweep brown mice onto a cold green lawn.

On the lawn,
under the gaze of a Thelonious Monk moon,
a black velvet glove lies-
bloody and dirty and as returned as the repressed.
like some strange mysterious mcguffin
that might be considered in a Zizekian analysis of Hitchcockian mis-en-scene.

Anyhoo, hoo, hoo
the owl awakens and flies out to eat the mice while
the white witch now uses her broom for blue purposes.
And the black glove remains on the green lawn,
a sign of procrustean times.


Rewrite 2

A cat goes crazy in a locked room
as the woman who owns her
sweeps mice from the kitchen
onto the verandah.

And on this veranda,
under the gaze of a Thelonious Monk moon,
a black velvet glove lies-
as bloody and dirty as the returned of the repressed

The cat discovers an open
window and springs out
and begins to munch down on the mice while
the woman now uses her broom for other purposes.

And the glove remains on the verandah.
Still.






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