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elizabeth absinth poetry (STILL in progress)

elizabeth absinthe poetry [STILL in progress]

was thinking of you and sudden silence experience,
not seeing: seeing nothing of you on screen, seeing nothing of
you than your icon accompanying something you’d be
on screen saying . . . , if /cited ‘twas/were the case: ’silence’. also
reminding of literature of silence, me always
wondering wot! ‘tis but recent reading now suggesting
it’s free some way, cause/since figuring henry miller:
mentioning more, there, no externality to /they
speak / spoke of literature addressing, transcending no
where objectively demonstrative i.e. writers
be as if priests acting on their own authority/
gismo than god’s or established evaluations,
values coming from ourselves and evaporating
and raining down again: ‘that communal consciousness,
i can accept, jung,’ says the tutor, h’ hands turning
like uncertain windmills / surfing the radio / both hands
busy at two/twin/different functions, h’ mouth no talk,
necessarily, talking occupationally:
could say we only wear clothes because we were so raised
really a matter of brainwasing to give money
to people still addicted to their sewing designed
loomed spins of thread, by others who prefer their leaves in
pots & beds; yea that way literature be as like as
nature as cycles like life like 69 consumes
nature’s liters perhaps being what literature’s about(s)
as passover probes in through all over you, lips at
your every pore/doorway, destined doorman living on
tips kissing as the accordian plays parisian, new
word for all the thing/ks you fancy/want/will have happen
subconscious speak (nothing new) too to connote all sees
i see having read ’consciousness’ of those eased comic
book format scholarly “INTRODUCING” reading what
words tell you’s more than what their sentence alignment say
is why ‘all sees’, besides now all thing’s globular are
sometimes you see red white and blue e’en in jeans; spiders
not crawling moving . . . everything’s a star that’s the new
with/of the literature of silence, naught but itself
opp/same of whatever, you are what you describe being

but the silence fronting me was not hearing from you

seeing no writes / absent ‘sthough lost in sleep / e’en yr being
suddenly busy reading/writing doing something not
seeable / didna see you on screen for some time; yea
minutes/hours: just is; i noticed: so, you do have
an impact; presence, like i used to say about reed
(oliver); fills the screen. i was thinking how, you moved
as eyes wondered how you walked how you pick up pen cup
of coffee book turn the page sit lie back hold the book
what side you’d lie lying down what kind if glasses, what:
laptop/table, comp; dresses/jeans; long short hair; is yr
icon, icon or you? (mine is antonin artaud
attracted am to odd/mad do have a fantasy of
getting to know a manic depressive girl, also,
as you learn a language best talking to a girlf friend
that way, then maybe enoughness . . . sometimes scared its mere
greed: think i am thinking i want . . ., think, when writing, i . . .
because writing wanting someone beside me who is
with me; saying this prob. for everyone . . .) god i have
writen some bit to correct re-read: think i’ll expand
this write into story for blue room content, you knowing
t’isn’t; making me wonder what fiction is fiction?
also want to meet a girl who does mathematics
as well as one who sculps and does geology too . . .

elizabeth absinth poetry (STILL in progress)


Joined June 2009

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