John Marvin is a teacher who retired and subsequently earned a Ph.D. in English at SUNY Buffalo. He has poems in scores of journals, and literary criticism in Hypermedia Joyce Studies, James Joyce Quarterly, Pennsylvania English, and Worcester Review. He has a chapter in Hypermedia Joyce, and h is book, Nietzsche and Transmodernism: Art and Science Beyond the Modern in Joyce, Stevens, Pynchon, and Kubrick, awaits a publisher. He seeks to marry the experimental, non-narrative with the lyric and traditional in the manner of Nietzsche’s marriage of Apollo and Dionysos. He generally avoids accessibility for its own sake, and the prosaic personal story with superimposed line breaks that is ubiquitous these days. Dove Parabola if you’re waiting for an apogee waiting for a swimming around waiting for that geist to return well ... you know what I don’t know that it’s going to happen any sooner or later time as the man says, “ki-ki-ri-ki brings no rou-cou-cou” not necessarily and perhaps necessarily not considering juxtaposition can we appose particles and antiparticles images and mirror images directions and anti-directions time and contra-time even when “grass is in seed... and the doves resound with chant” haunting murmurs of mourning penetrating without injury the medium of their soul sounds yet the crush of a world of arrows of more scattering disorder of memories past and an end in sight of a universe expanding swiftly dissipating into darkest voids beyond all our yesterdays never amounting to a hill of beings piston engines warming up for the last syllable “stripes of silver that are strips ...slits across space” yawning and lacking just lacking that’s all goslip dubious tales while sipping beer in local pubs where chatter from loose lips will slip soporific drips of acid will slip words with one sound around to mollify the masses classes who will not tolerate egg head multi-syllabic maniflashtoes trippingly heard heartily hated diction of the clever rumored to be gay communist foreigners disdaining rhyme and métier disdaining little jokes disdaining confessionals and gaspirations so stick your head in an electric oven and maybe someone will care after it’s too too forlorn timeworn on foot after foot a depression session because chat the kit kat coffee and doggerel laced with wisdom and impacted bleeding glooms glossed and glistening to every world othered under the tongue where a melting lozenge lets artificial sweetener and soothing medication trickle like painful time whose last syllable has lighted you know whos the way to dusty dearth Looking for the Perfect Vibrator |
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