Pissoir, Pissoir On The Wall

I'm sorry your woody broke.
They don't make them anymore
the way they used to.
It's all Dali's fault for
mollifying objects
and Breton's for
automatic verbatim writing.


Telescopic whisk spandrels
boeotian glossed cogitus.
Badinage apothegm benefices
apposition receivable matrix
consolidate benighted redden.

Insinuating lace aviatrix
mi ersatz sandworm onlooker
evident goodwit prick coitus.


But another woody was found.
It was well hung,
on the wall.

Duchamp & I approve.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: pome
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