These Notions, Supreme Fiction, Lavish Absence (Some Say 'oceans' Preferring Perhaps) Poem by Warren Falcon

and yet another, for Low, thots onto-crypto-noetic-poetic

'Supreme Fiction' is part of a poem title by Wallace Stevens.
'Lavish Absence' is part of a title of a memoir about Edmond Jabès.

'... it's the black pond
And cold, where toward perfumed evening
A sad child on his knees sets sail
A boat as frail as a May butterfly.' - Hart Crane


1
These notions (some say 'oceans' preferring perhaps) together (weather made of depths' currents disturbing everly the air all round) evoke (a little sleep mounded smoke heap 'hear creep, wretch, wrestle with' that which ever ghost's) the ground too, nothing exempted no matter adornment and aggiomamento past century as well as this new one we're collectively/globally 'grand mal-ing' within wrung out (plaintive complaint leap-song 'Now 'm free, free falling') yet again (fingers and frets knit nets 'neural obdurato') meeting the challenge (forced fated or not upon riveted necks from which chords wood) or for that their 'dis-s' might amend, appease, if knees dare insist lowering, to atone, if remedy is too slow, or late, weighted heads bowed (in obdural oblaDAH oblations) , waiting's 'the only way to go' (foregoing hopsotch houchie koochie coo coo a shoe wing) in eventual voiditude n ditty (by any meansy minsy moes buttah Poe Poe Posies) or her or him or rhoid (pleading pity upon all annoying factoids) though common, they do no longer, if ever, serve in now (composting) (Millenia) (halitose carbon, diminishing further bones) swerve out of assumed orbit of the same (now clockwise, muddled clouds calculate in math abreactions) (methadrone) (to accommodate what's utterly 'new i' th' wind' proposing a new name for deity aka Apo-strophé) with dastardly advanced technology presuming ITS WILL ALMIGHTY (rather, shot put to ill uses) which may soon render (comatose) the planet to (stone or cinder) Absence (unlavish)

2
(some say 'oceans' preferring perhaps)
(weather made of depths' currents disturbing
everly the air all round) (a little sleep-mounded
smoke-heap 'hear dust creep, wretch, wrestle
with' that which ever ghost's) (plaintive compline)
(leap-sponge 'Now...free, free falling')
(fingers and frets knit nets 'neural obdurato')
(forced fated or not upon riveted necks from
which chords wood) (in obdural oblaDAH
oblations) (foregoing hopscotch houchie koochie
coo coo a shoe wing) (by any meansy minsy
moes buttah Poe Poe Posies) (or her or him
or rhoid pleading pity 'pon all annoying factoids)
(composting) (Millenia) (halitose carbon,
diminishing further bones)

(now clockwise, muddled clouds calculate
math abreactions') (methadrone) (so accommodate
what's utterly 'new i' th' wind' proposing a new
name for deity aka Apo-strophé) (rather, shot
put to ill uses) (comatose) (stone or cinder)
(unlavish) (refusing all brandishments) (hell)
(whose fool's accounting?) (foregoing) (chum
on bae lu-lu loco-notion) (rivaling jive moves
without hips) (torn dendrons) (dislocated)

(the search is on as to where)

3
But 'I'll swan' as is said down Appalachia mountain way,
'Well I'll sway' or try, shall, pray, parley, if there's deity,
ID, or IT, or Them-uns, into our obdurate corner of shapeless
universe that we duel-dua-denim-doo wa diddy diddy
dumbrained mys-torectomies occupy 'plums on our thumbs'
insisting what good critters are us soon to be frittered foistibly
fried upon our own dumbward thumbs (muted blear wax
proven NOT to be the etiology) soon to be 'apparitions', if
even that, thots gone wrong or, again, might could be 'just
the onto-weather' but, as my ancient mamaw, a black bear
missing a paw, snuff in her maw'd say,

'Gather ye nosebleeds while ye may.'

For emphasis and song, she'd add 'Hey
nonny nonny Calendula and Honey'
descanting (whilst not discounting
or dismounting dogies) -

'Da doo ron ron ron Da doo ron ron'

then

'There's one lone cowboy-or-girl,
Poca-haunt-us-or-'as 'Now my life
is not the same / My whole world
has been deranged /...cowboys
to girls bang bang shoot em up
baby / Iremember' Intruders and
boyhood's extruding thots -

endings total (visions of) burning deserts
'westward hoes remembering commensurate
fences while playing lone rounds of putt-putt
NO MULLIGANS, yes, YE forks in the road,
'scum to that - scat singing now dat scats
gotcher tongues polyglottally mit das

Wooly bully (mammoth) '

4
'Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies
It's your misfortune and none of my own

Whoopee ti yi yo, git along little dogies
ever a'roaming will be your new home'

chianti chianti

chianti

this translates as

'da doo roam roam roam da doo roam roam'

aka

'so many, so many I had not known that death
(He's no fun at all) had undone so many'
therefore so thusly:

s'no crowning matter
(or hatter) mores the
bother when (prelude
to further adieu some-
where below) -

'when the
red red robin comes
a'bob bob bobbin' along'

so sing song's, this one,
to end or livelong ding
dong daze being with
(or at least affirm though deadly) inform or so it appears to be inevitably post-toasties massive pronoia-tron BOOM shrooms 'clastic-incinerate therefore thrustly itinerate (to yet again re-iterate) obvi-osis, whereupon which Nobel maestro scries surmise sums 'the last ding dong of doom' (Time's a loom threadborne or bare) if there's indeed a where there before something or after nothing we will see or not see though Edington Sir hath sed 'something we know not what is doing we know not what' so

addendums I without dry eyes -

'BUT IT is doing something.' Thusly this, to end or begin on a heartful noble note, skewed hope-a-dope (Who wove or actually weaves this rope?) Jack Kennedy sez it is we homo scrapiens, crappulous, Maya-opic (who pull the knot tighter from both ends and this is the way the churl rock up ends) :

'I believe that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of man's puny, inexhaustible, voice still talking! ...not simply because man alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because man has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion, sacrifice and endurance.' —William Faulkner