Voir dire (estratti)
by Nico Vassilakis
This is a DUSIE book.
Copyright 2020, Nico Vassilakis
I like to think of myself as a verb.
A vowel even
I saw another bird in the side-view mirror today
Obsessed with its reflection
There’s this measure of
Something we carry
Around with us
What is
Is jumbled
And mumbling
Of listening
To noise
Spoke frequently
With gained momentum
And choice patterns
At a distance
It was rain hitting
The awning
Sits alone now
Without access to
Enough window
What is it to leave here
With no pencil to
Mark the way
*
Local interference
Vision is pliable
A glockenspiel in fog
They don’t intend to berate you,
but they’re going to berate you
and they’ll feel terrible about themselves
The surface is dangerous.
Always more so behind the drapes
Words destabilize
Letters get radicalized
Everything becomes visual
Even that now is passé
Plate #24
(X)
A single unit, one glee, a circle,
is subject to ‘dynamic’ analysis
and appears to us in differing points
of transformation
My money’s not long enough
You need long money to hear that music
How much does the Hudson River
weigh? I think there’s something faster
than light – the speed of light, I mean
The silver tsunami is coming
They won’t look at me
Even with their eyes closed
Life is not ours
It belongs to the master
padlock above
What was once an impossibly
tiny group has grown a thousand-fold
Raucous and varied, the tuba has
too much metal – all that metal to blow through
Stop falling against yourself
Dying is unfinished business
I handwrite in small notebooks
as a shield to protect me from
the surrounding noise and chaos
An adventure that includes
a fill-in-the-blank section
All around me shiny tiny
little lights full of doh re me doh
Hey Glee, you will be expected
to catch the letters as they are
ejected from the word
They made a concoction
that surpassed all expectations
of what is currently knowable
An abyss on full alert
A rum-soaked phrase generator
A tunnel cloaked as vortex
I will conquer this encounter
Drizzled and rattled
Trounced and pulverized
So what? I hate symmetry
And so what? I’m not a fan of mail art
But really, I can’t stand your ego
Imagine laughing caused by
everything being new again
like the hilarity of seeing it
for the first time
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