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J A C K E T # 4 |
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this material is copyright © Roger Pellett and Jacket magazine 1998 The URL address of this page is http://jacketmagazine.com/04/pellett.html please read the copyright notice and see the links at the foot of the page back to Jacket # 4 contents page back to Jacket's homepage |
| |  Roger Pellett : poemsPLAUSIBLE IMPLAUSIBLE | |
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For a tall day by the talent scouts and angels; stucco in the birth pattern, cheap wine spilled on the heather, what |
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matters. The strongest earth is a wind-blast, cozening dimensions for the far flick, the nasty gas; we quarter their substitutes, but we don't ask for ours, while foreshortening has reduced the train fare to whim, hair-care to custom. It's done in the kitchen. A blast from the Entropics sends helicopter into depression, but the loudspeaker gusts a series of entitlements; fragmentary bits of episodes |
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from the Isles (Gilligan's) sporting the best look: sodden hats in shorts, au naturel. Punks of Diderot are smoking by the john |
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door, aware of their historical deterrence; an atlas for a drink. All waiting for Australian poetics to fatally decode the leather mushroom, to brush lizard of destiny (digital) right back into Planck's berth. It's a palmy arena. What matters is there's nothing left to "steer" by, Pulaski never dreamt two lanes to be one-way flowing, or one-eyed maneuverable; the sky leans low over factory in |
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Jersey; green lawns cover their faces, dope their votes. Al1 is a pulse or a shattering of pulse; I am a nun, or a flattering |
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concubine. Who would have thought Blakeian orgasm had pull in that country; the sandman puffs preludes to the material, but doesn't explain the cuff, or the delirious malnutritions of coffee; don't permit trux there. Frisk me, says the NAFTA-heady barrister. One dose of Java is enough to evince wallpaper's an anomaly (the chink is shouting the retired slogan) as there are |
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no walls, just lan- guages, and students of them; the grammar's but a video game, stunting skills better left latent |
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such as lying to get a car for a date with Tom - Tom Eliot, that is. A line is missing from the stanza, but I fix it (parenthetically); this window on the weald manageable turns of dumb waiter. Marketing types deliverance, shifty decoys to suggest substance where previously powdered ill, decadent wormwoods, assed on backwards, and took the Path. Solemnly, the priests and coaches declare |
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suffragette for none; check the box. |
| | from VISIONS OF CREELEY 1. [I Know a Man] Crushed wink, I seyde to my contrast in couthnesse, as I babbling birth-since, to John no less in silence, despite he's culled an autre nom, slammed nominally, the blackness slums preliminary blank- nesse, what Wills sure will ward it, nathless, caulks it, or shall us well, will then, and purchase a Pontiac? steer, you mutton, he slutted, for sake of rudder, rood's man, see the beam of the being, and watch yr turning. 2. [The Whip] All in the narc dark, I twisted pauseless in bed, mein Lieb a bird's tire, a hori- zontal, deep Ding. She so very blank and blanc, and also so still so quiet, but there a level set above, top house-and-heimat perched, was a girl, an autre (Audrey) also I loved, had laid my leaden lines' chore dopely on in a stained eruption she came, gingerly galloping, hoarse, back. That be the choke Jack. But time found me lonely, calm tried and shriek- ing, what's Ding for content? Aaiieeeeee! countered countess next me placing forked fingers, her toothed thirds, on my back, for which performed malice I think, therefore to thunk, to iterate this inked fate, to lace my salience, incurably. 3. [The Warning] Amour's deleterious beckonings enunciate this striver's indices to quarter, commit, enflame catherine's wheels of scintillating devisals just behind yr mediterranean sinciput's flexing nasals. In generous samplings of the auditing populace aspiration yet trickles provided melinite's amnesia surrenders narrow sheaths to the choired ore muffling providentially the resilience of our scandal. 4. [Song, from For Love] What I grasped by my manual potential exponentially refigured. You must comprehend that this thing's Being hardly rates for stage censure. Twilight fries, dark arrives. We are mutually in snore. So therefore granting you are privy to facts, frankly dissemble, suture eloquence. Gym bags of moustaches are the couture of the hostile. You and I are the salacious inhabitants of scripture and homily, the Mate's choir. Lacking invulnerability. Lacking, not knowing to pulse or iterate. Hence, my urge you accommodate. Do your opinions extend to my fine company? Es gibt keine Frauen, I mean none so sharp in habit, curt in drawn gown, as you. Animosity's feminine void produced no such coagulate of veracity. Mechanistic anxiety, love, that duel just floors me. What I grasped by my manual potential refigures exponentially isolated as this thing's Being's been. THE OVERTURES OF HOLOGRAMS Damp the sea-grilled cocolith stammering blanched in the tumult's delitescent groan hemmed, humanum est errare, in livery a masthead ophitic delirium from the park's wen, frothed custom. Aragonite's tin arcature franks pithfully the cucurbit's leathern sherbet warrior, herbary of static syllables argonautic nutlet shamming a halogen tubelet, marked it as lead, number zoo nursery. I divided the hydranth, a sweating, pil ubermensch. Dashy mastery, occult daphneic rime apart pulsed artfully chancroid chaplet welts, nugat accursed succulence, historifies exurbia the carat seismograph, blandishment's espalier. Byron blacked deleted by hendiadys, hent a foreshorn ferry slip that, knackered, whines mortgaged interlingua, finger-fluent whist for skeletons, image of lantern fly laps mistral denying the misleard muff, form's mittens and calendric marm's histamine retainer. Dillied zappa ovoid gutters crank's grandeur titles bury it, but he fashions yosemite, retires the chariot, mendacity's city century toked timbreled thirds, missouri synod noons when the carving's hot for opulent teutonosis and the vessel vesicatory, olibanum a chattering verrucano in the vestpocket. Therm's theophany hammers voidable dice, zoril's zoons digital gratuitous enactments, in the labor party's third nostril, scaramoushfully. Fourteeners bevy the index, sequenced halves, prozacked scantlings, stagecraft submissioned subsidized whom tastes whole on whitsunday, whiteout substantial. Subversive succinics dial rodent's effigy talons, cold's succubus passion's substratum, unconditional surrender flexed glad-by, unbugled falcons. Beats uncorked lathers vestees' charity, celibacy's end bunt to wrench strength, so cultured the venus skelps intimidated by no sitz bath, no straphanger's talents. To skeltonics my shivering my loathing my honor skewed synonymy in sestinal synaesthesia timorous orthodonty that sly unpaid stylist neath fornicating roofs, tinamou's fructifying shed. Timbres were ululating, hot, undulatus but uneath easily, the salivation alluding to my samsura sambaing toward egglantine delicatessens herbaceously sworn to televised grottoes stinking gulls, timonlike, advertising travesty for larking and hugs, but nonetheless a valid rejoinder. ORGANICIST IN A / GLASS SHOP You pragmatize the spill in Brooklyn gaulless, tail the weathered trunk shite balanced on a pen, rigor stealths fancy tea-time humblers overseas, all sanitary. Ship out the shored ball |
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boy leathern in the knee-cap, stalking a vibrato you've lost, destiny's mallet, |
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hills residing with the funk futures manic in forced apologies from the docile, dream-time tiff. Add it up: it's a crown, exactly. Apostrophes alight! inner ear dissembles like Tiger lite, boring yet bunting Vs three heavenward back-to-home, |
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a picked scone from the heliotrope's nose; randy facts and fists. |
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Bumpers collude on the celluloid, call it quits; ever ovened, the park auk. Nine-of-talons, green-of-codes, a Southern gent jets, spermed on sillily, singing with the lady in the village bar, groaning, testily, with the white cheek - didn't |
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the mayor need this to refer us not? But the oceans are seven |
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standing still. Spectacles for society, retinopathy not paying the day wrenched of powder, ox or chrome; don't smothers the hip luck pal been lode of ore, which they sing in the car, going home. Jerks abound in tree houses but the literati stay deep in soma with their dial-a-poems, jive. Voodoo. That's |
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history's drug-of- fetish, had I hacked my way and I plan to, the |
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flow charts building up in the terror bucket in the bathroom, next the chapbook's tonsils, the codicil. It's like time brings out the noose, then waxes it. Are there migrants under the table? Don't think so, but they eat, and one thinks to say it's |
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Sunday, day of labor since them. A white craft on the radar (aren't |
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the benefits of DVD timorous medals or gold stars on the breasts of dwarfs?) a white |
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craft on the radar, the cartographer's twist-and- buckle, nee |
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the rope-a-dope. It's Kaffe Matthews in Brooklyn, Friday June 20th, 1996, a Saturday, fans hue Shaggy with the Scooby that cocks the nuts with ur-hyped deliberance in the mail slot, ruining the poor sot. |
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 Roger Pellet, Miami, 1994 Photo copyright © Sandy Sinatra Roger Pellett was born in Durham, England in 1964, and lived briefly in London and later studied at Cambridge University. He moved to New York and eventually to Seattle, where he now works as a private environmental contractor. He has published works of Anglo-Saxon scholarship, along with several articles of scientific journalism. In 1994 he renounced his poetic practice. These poems of Roger Pellett were collated from various publications and privately-circulated manuscript sources over the last two years as part of a research project by the poet and endocrinologist Stephen Kim. The complete collection of his works, to be titled "The Overtures of Holograms", was selected for the 1998 Ruth Filne Award, and will be published by SoftImage Press in Vancouver in the Fall of 1999. Kim writes in his introduction: "Written in a patch of heated inspiration (or desperation) during his last month in his home country and after several University-funded research trips to the United States, these poems represent Pellett's break with England and the English tradition as it has been represented by what he called 'the Cambwich school,' though a decidedly ambiguous (however fecund) one at that. For this reason alone, they can be cherished." | |
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