| || |
LA | NY A Special Edition of The East Village
Nada Gordon & Gary Sullivan
The Suchness of Things Everybody hates Nancy. Her mucous is on the polka-dot. There was a letter no one else saw in the benevolent tube. I get up to write a letter, but my hand is hairy at knuckles and lashing out sore. I got up to write a letter with my sore head and jumbling. Somewhere there is another world* with marijuana and tissue. This world opens up to it with a "ka-kang. ka-kang." Hey! Settle down in there ... incendiary chirrups rustle my poultry! No, that's not right. Nancy? Is dallying in shadow. All eyes upon her and the huge quatrain she lifts to her lips (like a babble) as a version of pronouncing. Pierre thinks he likes poetry: He hates Nancy. We hate Nancy too. But we "are" Nancy. Her mucous is on "our" polka dot. This is one theory of "quiddity." _________________________ *Sometimes it's good to fall into emptiness, be it another person, or oneself or a junkyard. Blessed are the hours of emptiness. My life vacillates between the two -- the emptiness and ... whatever is the opposite of it ... Whatever it is, it isn't fullness."