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
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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