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Jean-Paul Pecqueur

Real Cyclone 

 

 

 

 

 

From the cricket’s tiny bells   To great

 

balls of fire   Under the flight

 

of the swift   The light

 

of Polaris   Zippity rebop  

 

Captain fantastic   The hetero

 

geneity of the spirit    Becoming sonic

 

Firing circuitry    The tangible city

 

Oh city    Place a Nashville

 

somewhere on a grassy hill

 

in Tennessee    Spot a warbler in the palm  

 

Follow a digital star chart    A map

 

redolent with rosewater   The Atlantic

 

materializing off to the left    Laughing

 

Gulls laughing on the shore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To notice is to promise    Take twenty

 

per-cent off your last thrill

 

and testimony    Air-conditioning  

 

and chill bombast     Distracting moments      

 

Accents    Futures converging    A city

 

is a feeling    It brews its own weather    

 

It accepts boys named Sierra     Everywhere

 

the ordinariness of trauma     A child

 

howling as the crowd stamps it feet

 

Applause     Cigarette papers stuck

 

to suede shoes     Maple leaves stuffed

 

in pockets    In pant cuffs    Enough

 

trouble for thousands of people  

 

Enough people for one helluva bash 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everywhere laughing   Day

 

campers chanting   Sponge Bob

 

Square Pants   And stomping

 

and clapping   Spondee   Come out

 

Come out wherever a star

 

Behind the sandblasted seawall

 

Relieved by starfish   By conch whirl

 

and stylized squid    A Coney island

 

of the ear    A penguin dance party   

 

of the mind    A warm bench

 

on the boardwalk and our bodies

 

liquid amber    All bodies absorbent   

 

The spirit buoyant   We leak saline

 

and say the taste is good    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Endless summer fabric softener

 

The smell of excess    Not the filth

 

but the flower    Neon hibiscus

 

& butterfly bush    Both before

 

and forever after    Beholding again

 

with a ruined eye    One end

 

an apostrophe to passing feelings   

 

The setting of numerous fires

 

in the high dry grass    Of immaturity

 

Or flaring up in the form of idea  

 

Or lingo to approximate the soul   

 

A critique of culture presupposes

 

a culture to critique    Why blather   

 

I’d rather    Or then again I’d rather

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Motive is not method    Can be

 

a candied mouse trap    Rat

 

ional molotov fruit salad daddy   Oh

 

Might even be epipsyche on its cyclone

 

of tears    Real cyclone    Hologram

 

of polar bears    Pearlescent nail polish

 

calling forth twenty-five pounds

 

of memory hammer    R.E.M. singing

 

the end of the world    The imagination

 

is never enough    It needs another   

 

Another spider monkey    One

 

more moth the size of a dinner

 

platter    Neon hibiscus and butter

 

Hairy diamonds    Wings with eyes   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One method    To be marigold   

 

A list of simples as loopy excess  

 

and fidelity to the future    Creature

 

to creature    In the first light

 

of failure    To brew a sonic measure   

 

Storm watch wolf-whistle    And spider

 

in the lilac    In the dry grass inscrutable 

 

To rise up rose hip and decline   

 

Then moonshine     To saline    Slip

 

stream liquid amber    To notice Sierra

 

The imagination must be another  

 

Must cool breeze    Or odd indigo

 

Must buoy the spirit    Atlantic Pacific    

 

Warble of waveform    The sensible idea 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shoveling clouds and sorting

 

clouds    A glut    Of clowns and sky

 

blather   A spot of color

 

on a pine snag black

 

from beetle and fire and covered

 

in vultures    Of culture I’d rather

 

rhinoceros   I’d rather slipknot

 

and sight rhyme    Failure

 

and fall higher    A postpunk

 

fanfare for the professional mourner

 

Endless summer    Ordinary trauma

 

The imagination is another          

 

A warm beach    Strawberries and song

 

A flare up    Hairy hairy diamonds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With wings for eyes    The idea

 

of the dragonfly   The fire

 

fly and laughing gulls laughing

 

Or lingo to approximate lack

 

of control    To practice motive

 

Bouncing between cumulous

 

and cummerbund    One end

 

of a habit   A star chart    Fidelity

 

to the spectral affect   The spirit

 

still buoyant    Still crazy

 

gluing plastic and the hastily

 

made bed    An apostrophe

 

to epipsyche   To the wolf spider    

 

of Brooklyn   Hills in Tennessee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ideolectual fantasy     Savagery

 

and sing-along   Come out

 

A glut     The book of nature

 

Creature to creature we stingray 

 

We forever after    Then drunk

 

and asleep in the doorway   

 

of a sunny void   A vacancy   Slight

 

ruin of eye    Don’t overthink it    

 

Sonic fragment    Dot dot dot

 

And then marigolds and fanfare

 

for the procession of warblers

 

For the cyclone of colors

 

that is becoming a feeling

 

Real cyclone    Abandoned plot 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ripe figs in a vacant lot    One end

 

of summer    Another dim aura

 

and present shape of the future   

 

Rationalizing critique as culture

 

Molotov    Memory hammer    Vultures

 

on a jag    Pine blackened by oil

 

stick and melted tire   Celebration

 

of mimetic failure    Drunk and singing

 

in the gutter    Down to the river  

 

It’s the end of the squirrel   Adieu

 

gnome wit   Ciao    Blood hound   

 

The whatchamacallit    Not the filth

 

but the flower    Has fled town

 

Uh oh city city    Into the street   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Point and counterpoint    Cocktails

 

and Khlebnikov     What matters

 

What flight    From the lilac buzzing

 

From the idea of the sun    From fear

 

and from promise    Under the light

 

of Polaris    Day campers chanting

 

Fruit salad     Barn dance    And laughing

 

Wherever a clownfish    When

 

ever a star    Soon enough trouble

 

Chair leg wobble and folderol

 

For each fedora that is missing   

 

From fabled love to space craft   

 

We trip up     Omnipresent

 

reset button    Catalogues of cloud   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then marigolds     The sensible

 

embodiment of an idea    

 

The idea of flowering     The howl

 

of a wolf spider in the mouth

 

of a berry    In the face

 

of our one good sun    Fidelity

 

to each passing feeling   

 

Idiolect and image    Savagery

 

and song    Both strawberry

 

scented hookah & a legendary love   

 

Don’t overthink it    Where is it

 

we arrived here from    Which gap

 

did we skip across    War craft

 

or love boat    Mystery still abides

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From great balls of fire    To the idea

 

of the sun    To practicing motive

 

in a cloudless pause    A critical vacancy

 

Or lingo to approximate sky

 

and soil    The imagination distils 

 

its own fidelity    From the book

 

of nature     To immature facture    

 

Rapt action in the postpunk hoedown

 

Of vulture I’d rather barn dance

 

Or silkscreen waveform inscrutable   

 

I’d rather babble rap rose hips

 

than opine party line    Khlebnikov

 

as clownfish    Flaring up in form

 

Wish fulfillment    Butterfly bush

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The private lives of fireflies    Satellites

 

betwixt dim stars and style wars

 

in place of thunder    In the gutter   

 

A bluebell    A strut of brocade   

 

A chaos of cadence and crickets

 

ecstatic for jasmine    Major affirmation

 

of lyric testimony    Or epipsyche

 

on its cyclone of tears    Real cyclone

 

Honeycomb and gummy bear   Image

 

and affect    The magic of   Of cloud

 

To howl   Wolf spider powwow

 

in the local greenhouse    In back

 

of the ideal    A black squirrel    Purple

 

finches    The light and aimless air   

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