Showing posts with label Cork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cork. Show all posts

Monday, February 22, 2010

for W.B.Sinclair (WhiteDwarf Books)

Murphy blinkered by seven veils of his own selecting, the chair of his platonic cabinet a wheel not yet known to the Academy, rocks as does the sinking crescent moon as we promenade along a line of longitude against which is surveyed a rectilinear beach traversing the known globe with our western eyes.

Some son of Murphy, staring into the blue to first detect hilal, stricken by a headache so seizing his forehead he spends the next month in near total darkness thus being denied (or so she told him) a fine view of a rare and total eclipse, unexpected, unpredicted, like a brief death.

acute cité cesse cécité Cécile Celia ciel Stella scellé Cecilia cilia cils astral

points, orbs yet no circumference, a radius far too vast, radiant

[ <<La Muse malade>> et "Solaris" de Stani Lem ]

liens obscurs

green stars,
her emerald locks, lifted by the stream,
coiffure verdâtre

a bottle uncorked and that cork happily lost underfoot