Bird alphabets
Incoherent table-like
muscular directives
glue ice
paper flashlights
What he sang
Eyes, themselves
dwadled bull's-eyes
Cart
enforced deserts
pleased as plugs
semi-fruitful
into the language web
between the eyes
vegatable contact
The darkness descends.
Radio pulsations extend their reach
Interference increases, which multiplies the possibilities wherein noise may accidentally suggest eternal realities.
Eyes search the shadows, inventive and turn inward.
Certain genuses create from the blackness artificial day, as a
result real day begins evoking an imitation and so imitates itself.
Airplanes flying over the city
but no one looks up, therefore
their routs solidify slowly into noise umbrellas.
A vast space is pierced.
Symbolism becomes light to see by.
Animals relate to networks of human interaction
by imagining how to back up.
Man, being an animal
does it his way by self consciousness.
Winds rustle venetian blinds exposed to the night air.
Streets empty themselves beyond likelyhood.
Ladies alone, under the covers, resolve to make
Tension, radient.
Ask how, and no answer is forthcoming,
which, in the silence,
seems to deepen resolve.
Darkness was falling.
Old men were covered.
Hands clutched at protuberances in the shadow
that tuned in bioactive faculties.
Organs turned.
The possibilities of future activities counted.
Where birds were not on branches,
an electric glow could be seen some distance
behind certain branches of the system.
Deep water fell from half closed open faccuts
And in a variety of rooms, tried to consolidate.
Darkness was falling.
Women behind doors,
beneath ceilings that echoed wallpaper,
the head spun.
Haircuts lowered impenetrable invitation.
The cat, multiplied as ikon
But founded no competition.
Shadows fried.
Photo leave-taking
Telephone trance
Books anbd sunlight
Sensory reversal
Tree media
Numerical convergence
Aimed vision
concrete meals
nervous menues
dance boundaries
safe gestures
vocal finger
The look that turmoil stylized
Opportunity networds
Miles of rounding corners
Monster involvement
Smiles, tooth trama
Sentimental gaps in behavior
Well read non-directional
Confused, stastical poetry.
Delivery keys
Prayer machines
The darkness falls
Certain organizations have meetings
The vaster important resources tap, deep into night carpets, deep red
Window washers lower their eyes and see space
Already eaten meals spread consciousness to new dimentions, but recognized by memory
Menues float
Rejuvonated carpets, loan things
The darkness falls
Eyelids converge on bridged discrepences of sightseeing
The bus loses axel power
Greese treads new routes, and the sore feet triumph over elusive pain
Sitting becomes a method of transcendence.
The mid-day settles
Music is not music but wind that stopped
Tree houses suddenly loose all mystery
Birds rise, there mechanism now understood.
Empty streets, look again, no less full than normal.
Shopping sprees seem slower than normal, which is normal.
The woman with fur, quivers, but it passes.
Clocks all notate, which is unusual
The unusual falls into place like clockwork.
Dogs make imagination the next plateau.
Energy waves latch onto heat, and loose entree.
The locked gates hint, at everything else.
His honorable hat
Apartment prayer
Bath nonsense
Infiltration
Tribal ducks
Roll nations
Freeze fear
Amost idea like
Ratchet tranquil
Squirl requests, vast
The darkness falls.
Railroad bridges decide that late bets come from the heart
Crashes self-muffle
A workman allows pride to greese the wheels of his going in circles.
Steel rims the circular horizon
Whatever rises says 'steam, you are part of the giant blackness, now.
Musical mole-business
Of course
How of course?
Musical mole business.
His honor, flashes by. Bright wasn't it?
Your interest is breath-taking.
Ah, I zip through thoughts.
Can a brain go so fast?
Or is it to be decided.
Too slow a word, decided.
Shall I offer? So much food.
Nothing passes me by.
Like a jagged line-- I wait for your carcass-- oh oh, cover my
mouth when a soft one exits.
No one but me, sees me.
Nothing: spoken from the heart, or the top of the head. Ready?
sure he is.
Your life is perfect, after all. Your hands are coated with fever, enabling them to enter realms impossible to imagine. There, doing threir work, hurled into silence itself,;
A speaking is a product of a certain dexterity that otherwise seems good but not exceptional-- who cares to count.
And yet
those numbers that could be couldn't also lead, if truly thought,
to bliss. I lift off. I caress, I caress. I do caress. I do lift
off.
How tight you hold me.
Everything comes to he who waits-- shall I believe? And I did.
This, waiting for the radio to turn on by itserlf, Buy's time?
Bodes no good.
This--waiting for the radio to turn on by itself is like waiting for the rain.
Whjen the day has rained itself out.
Conditioned as you are to expect more, but there is no more. That
kind of waiting.
This, waiting for the radio to turn on by itself.
When the fingers are playful, the secondary fingers make the kind
of net that profits slip through, and so is the whole world profited
and no one knows.
May I speak of the first number?
When the elephantine is cast in gold, what is postulated are gold gestures, with no body upon which to fix, and so all is loss-gained.
Can you inhabit that word? (Elephantine)
Oh, did a light strike?
Wear it into a better resume.
They come upon me.
Nothing but sentences redeem me
Such happiness.
Such tea
Was it a clock, that struck for tea, light a real light in one of the inner eyes.
Outer eyes.
Ah, you say that and a reflection is in the process of tunring into circular materials I never here to fore had to do with,
and now
indeed I do.
Better to make do with whatever comes to hand. I KNEW you'd feel that way.
And I did
And he did.
Something has holes in it, radical
But I cover myself
You are SOLID, Maurice.
I am solid. I have a finger in my own oriface of choice.
I see nothing
Yes, to the yes-yes.
Wait for the rain
It didn't rain
But it was cold someplace else.
Everything was someplace else.
And here
I sat
wait wait wait
I could not.
What fell on my head was wet
Only in anticipation
But an anticipation is a daughter of
inventionary throughts.
It's here. But when I say it's here--
it goes from here
Hello, am I here. Of course I am not here
Am I here?
--am I here?
am I here?Fruit masquerade
Rubbed Catagorical
Recording that doesn't slowly reverse
Time layabout
split noticeables
Flat, lawful depth
phantesy
bus options
open dictionaries
toad load-inOut classed? I think not. What you eat for a larger
meal, can't really test me the way I want to be tested.
Oh? I pie-eyed, in your honor.
Horrors, of all that effects me so, and it did.
_________
If a voracious animal, dares attack, have I the means to defend
myself? Why of course I have. My resources may be invisible but
for that reason, I am weak.
Then you will do badly, defending yourself.
We flip-flop-- in our own manner of picturing contingencies. Some
people call that-- working up a head of steam.
Some people, only half mean things.
Me? Oh no. I don't think I can ALWAYS go in One direction.
Ah, you confirm a stratagic maneuver.
Not at all. I throw myself on the mercy of this wild beat.
Hopeful to the end.
It's here and not here-- that's all I know.
I'll be surprised to see your transformation, whatever it is.
________________
To eat this beast food, is best.
But i don't, think, I ever assimilatefd anything better.
Do now
It's all the same to me.
Luxury of taste? I don't think you dare take that plunge.
Who'd I run-down on?
----------
Tighten your seat belts.
Oh? I only must, if I must.
But so grave about it, am I, I allow the coming forth of many
bad words.
Those bad words, stick to good ideas, so the good ideas get no
longer visible.
I'M blank-its too.
My idea.
Humm. No way I can be sure of that.
Say it, anway
What
Say what's-- on your mind.
Can we reach it?
(animal appears)
--I'm dressed, isn't said, but is ready to do big, eating.
Behold the word Tripped.
Link
Why is the phrase, SOON, floating in the middle of the room?
Do you know what I'm doing?Tables reversed.
Why is the phrase, --tables reversed--
floating in this room.
You know what I'm doing?
You tell me
"You tell me"
What.
Ah, you heard something or saw something.
Both maybe. When I came into the room, I saw words flaoting in
there air.
Just like me
No. I went and picked a book from the shelf, and began to search
every page for the phrase.
Which
But I haven't found it yet in this book entitled. . .well, it
seems to have no title.
(OPPORTUNITY: OPPORTUNITY)
What's in the window?
The word, ICE
It's on a hill, a large electric sign.
I don't believe you
Dive into my head
ICE
What made you say that?
(Pause) Not believing you made me say that
Shut the window curtains
Why
The word, ICE, is glowing on the hill top. I think it's pulling
you our of your normal frame of consciousness.
ICE
Yes
ICE
Yes.
Since we are now telepathic, why do we talk?
To vibrate our bodies, to erase our physical self.How can I live
here, in the far reaches of the universe. I want to return to
earth.
We all want to.
But we got here. Why can't we get back?
We didn't get here by choice, did we?
Well, no.
So getting back could be a problem.
Nobody's trying to find a way?
We have, but we can't find it.
Let's pretend we are.
On earth?
Yes. Let's have tea.
No tea on this planet.
Oh yes there is. (tea served)
Tea is good for people.(Hopper. Motel)
This is the motel room in which god speaks to me.
Does he?
Yes. A hundred times, yes.
How does he manifest?
I never know, but I know when it happens. A car may pull up outside
the window. I can see it shining in the sunlight. I can see the
sun reflected off the tin, or steel, or metal whatever cars are
made of that reflects light. And that light striking my eye in
a way that is . . .revelatory. Which I know is hard to believe,
but it's happened, and it might again, because it has-- many times--each
a different manifestation. But believe it or not, this room, is
the only place it happens.
Here.
Here
That's why you invited me here.
Did I ask?
Of course. You telephoned
I didn't know you had a telephone.
(Pause) You must have known, because you telephoned.
I called information, hardly daring to hope there was a way of
getting through to you.
But you didn, and I'm here, and I'm waiting to be told my future.
I'm waiting to be told my future.
(Pause) By me or by God.
That's it. I'm visited, but I'm not told, even tihough you probably
think I'm not visited.
Will you be visited while I'm here?
I don't know. How long can you stay?
As long as necessary (Pause) I'll send out for sandwhiches.
And at night?
I'll sleep on the floor.
We wouldn't touch.
Physically? Of course not. (Pause) If you lured me here for that
purpose--
I didn't lure you here.
I shouldn't impute motives. Forgive me. But my real question
wasn't one of time-- how long I'd have to wait. My real question
was, if I am here, will god still appear to you or will my presence
eliminate that effect.
I don't know, of course.
Of course. (Pause) Do you in any sense TRY to make it happen?
That's hard to say-- since I now, live in expectation. My glance, circles the room, as anybody's glance might, during a day spent waiting, And when I
sieze upon each object-- there's at least a POTENTIAL anticipation,
of course. (Pause) Is that trying?
(Pause) Time rotates. Why do I say that.
Maybe because, this thing, happens repeatedly.
No. It isn't that simple. That's a clue, only. (Pause) Now I'm
looking at the door knob. But that's all it is. Of course, I
always entertain the possibility it happened for a while but
now it's stopped happening and won't reccur.
Or the possibility that by inviting me, you've frightened it
away?
Yes. (Pause) Or even that I've had enough, and I WANT to frighten
it away. (Pause) If it never happens again, will you be able to
believe me that it ever DID happen?
(Pause) Try to tell me more, what it's like when it does happen.
I can't
Try (Pause) Just speak, even if at first it seems like nonsense.
It's holes. The thing is. . .more itself, except it vanishes and everything else is it, but that vanishes too but it's still there in a snese, all of it. But in an invisible state that's just as real and visible. (Pause) That explains nothing. How dumb.
(Eyes light up, holds head, smiles)
(whispers) Yes?
It was in my last word. Dumb. And when I said it, it was in it.
. .in the very sound.
Is it still present?
No. . .but I remember it. (relaxes)
Now it's past? (she nods)(Then she puts her head back and closes
her eyes. Knock at door)
I ordered us some lunch
(Opens door, man comes in and unpacks lunch)
How much will that be?
I have something to say first.
Oh?
The darkness falls.
Men light their own eyes,
using the automobile trick that stacks up people at bridge supportable trait -trading posts.
Rivers cross under, and turn into non-rivers.
A red Cadillac, finds ways to color itself that are neither colors nor animals, but sometimes remain public.
Still time for lunch?
Darkness falls.
The star toast, sparkles
until it travels to the stomach, where it sings
"Swim, swim!"
Here's lunch, but it hurts.
Swim, swim,
Here's lunch for free, but don't touch
Here's lunch,
but I vanish in order to be eaten.
(Howels of wolves, all join) (robe half red-half purple)
If a red robe-- was tacked up to my wall
I'd not-at-all,
carefully be awake.
Could I WEAR it, wall tacked?
Would it WIDEN me?
Probably, as I want.
But you have to keep body and soul together.
My very method.
Yes. Here it's purple. I shut people out of my consciousness.
Could I ice-skate towards that purple before we let go of it?
It's yours--
All me?
Let's try this experiment-- (tack to wall, into it)
I feel like you're going to throw at me-- tomato.
Tomatos
Count your tomatos. I mean, count tomorow's tomatos
Wait. (She gets ice-skates, on him and her)
Now, let's race!
(Howels)
Was it almost, my imagination that made a circle.
Walked in one?
Into a circle, or a path that traced it as a shape. Either occasion
should be celebrated, do you agree?
I come to the same conclusion.
Is that an agreement?
It's the way my mind operates, and thank goodness, your's also.
But I have no choice.
Thank goodness.
But perversely, I might avoid that necessary choice.
How possible?
Artificial means.
Thank goodness.
Necessary or not.
Not, thank goodness.
But it happens.
Which closes the circle, thank goodness.
Shall we hold hands?
Only if we're in motion-- you can see I'm predicating a kind of
dance.
Thank goodness.
Isn't that what I said, first?
I don't know if it was first.
Thank goodness.
Thank goodness.
Thank goodness.
Thank goodness.
Perverse enough to start going backwards, it must have been an
idea that flashed into your head like light.
Then it wasn't so peverse after all.
Thank goodness.
Is it . . .willful, when it isn't?
I know the answer.
Me too.
(both hold mouths, walk in deliberate circles)
VO: Thank goodness!
Is it afternoon or morning-- no matter. I think I'm falling, anyway.
So when I hot, but I won't hit . . .
What happened to seeing God?
I come here all the time.
Take showers?
Sure. I take advantage of all the facilities. I even have a telephone in my room. (It rings)
Do you know that's the first call I ever received, as opposed
to me, making?
Then you better pick up.
Hello?
(figure at window, God, booms
"Don't talk into that telephone!)
(Thunder)(Quirky music:Johnston: all dance)
There are better things than talking on the telephone all the
time, I guess you agree.
Yes. I wouldn't have, before. But now I do agree, certainly.
Have we determined yet, if it's afternoon or morning?
It could be changing from one into the other.
Oh I doubt that. Whatever it is, it is.
I see what you mean. (To closet) Here, why don't we try on
these colorful disguises?
It's not disguises. It's perfectly natural.
You're allowed to wear them?
I'm allowed to use anything I find in my room, if I rented the
room I rented everything.
(God at window--DON'T TOUCH THE PHONE)
Maybe we better not put these on.
O.K. (pause they dress anyway) After all, it's already almost
evening, isn't it?
Who knows.
(Stops, quiet) Help. I'm falling.
Oh? Can't you describe it more than that?
Am I supposed to describe or embody? I think the latter.
She's so special?
Who?
Me?
I guess everybody's falling. And when we hit--
What do we do when we hit.
We don't it, take my word for it. There's nothing to hit.
(Dance)
I don't count on things alot.
(Pause)
I don't count on things panning out. I don't bet on things.
Nobody says wager. There's no time set aside.
But I WANT to go out in the rain and get my feet wet.
Continually?
Look. When it rains on me, I simply. . .open up.
(Pause)
I'm carried away by my emotions. So don't talk to me.
Come back.
See? That pushed me, see how much?
Not at all.
I'll demonstrate, I open an umbrella (pushed to wall).
I can't go any further you think. Then I come up with a new and subtle maneuver,
(Closes umbrella)
Isn't it bad luck to open an umbrella inside?
I don't bet a lot.
You bet.
No bets
Expectations.
Are you into that?
(Pause) It's my reality, you could say.
Try my umbrella.
I'm already protected.
Thanks for coming.
I'm waiting for my ride
(God comes to window)
Ah. Here it is.
My ride or my protection?
Both? Find out by dancing.
(all dance)
I don't know if he came and came back, I dion't know if he never went, or I don't know if he was here in the first place.
(Pause)
Who am I talking about?
Time will tell.
That's my. . .wager. I bet.
And I have lots of time, to find out, if time will tell.
Starting now.
1 2 3 4 5
(Dance, counting throu.
Stop dance, still counting)
(Telephone rings>
Knock on door)
(Voice outside)You're disturbing the other guests!
You're time is up! You're being evicted for disturbing the
other guests!
You won't get away with this! I swear you won't
god damnit!
I swear you won't get away with this!
If it's the last thing I do. I won't let you get away
with this!
The darkness falls,
Crystalized into faint noise,
travels the streets,
Hussels, turtle-like
Under electric sparks of a deliberate music
Heard or pressed gently against the eye--
Temples of such delicacy; forehead relics--
Streetcars, returned from dead years--
Leaves fall, but then choose not to dance
But do dance
because wind is always present
and the dark balconies
Conspire;
Remembering light from which they separate,
And separation, as a rule--
Encloses, absorbes all
Into a new, unimaginable, one.
The darkness falls
A moon, hesitates
Somewhere that falls not into expectatant diner plates
Or into walkable shoe-shine,
Cleanly, upon dessert pavement that meanders.
But a bed-time circle is not yet tuned,
and a night wave
Crests without noise,
Pulling shadows into its specific glue.
The darkness falls.
Pigeons arrange into grids of non-wind.
And the invulnurable direction
Rests under an odor,
Stopped and imprtalized.
Something hit the side of my face. But an almost, was really an
almost.
How many of us , were ready to doubt not. Plunging in. Perfecto
magnifico. But the real steely gaze, the iron locked onto iron-eyes, was co-linked with a non-returnable intend. I did break for that, I did
losen anything else only even semi-available.
Shall it switch? or are you just saying de-re-switchable?
I'm not counting.
You're not pouting
Street-sharps, that's what busted most under these plug a-lot-of-the-
time circumstances. Then the jealously dance did his tap-tune
into a time I couldn't catch.
You're always running after what goes faster than you do.
Wrong. The speed is similar, but the angle of the eye, cocked
is so very concergent, it misses by a mile-bit.
How so?
Just so. It's closeness that breeds contempt. Who can fight against
that?
Buckets, I would guess.
Sure, I swooshed and delivered, but being in the wrong place
at the wrong time, can be turned into an advantage. You'd like
to see, I'm sure, but nobody kisses like a good kisser, so never
again do I intend to miss a thing that could have been a near
miss at best, but a good miss only. And I missed it. So never
again.
Again.
Never again.
Again
Never again.
Again.
I agree. It's never again and never again and never again.