is Cthulhu’s own concept album: a lyric mashup of Tori Amos and Raymond Tallis. Every line in this horror has been printed. There are people paid to take every line seriously. There is also the FWB, who made this song.
on her nishiki it’s out of time
and knowledge of the BODY takes beyond
the curtilage of the existiential intuition
hard to hide a hundred girls in your hair
when existed identity is not fact-shaped
never was fact-shaped
hanging with the raisin iteration
of incorrigible glue stuck to my shoe
QUA material objects that make it HERE
a watercolour stain
am-ing is not free-gift knowing
the MAGPIES have come
i know your blush of me-this is a good one
the heedfulness of Da-sein
peaches and cream beautiful angel
this little masochist
is lifting up her skirt
with the META-FINGERING HAND
Wonderful…
I should be girding my loins to head off to Sweden, whence Ryanair is lofting me shortly. But I had to share this piece of found poetry, which cropped up in a document called Examination Of Disk-Based Data Protection. This is an horrendous thing, full of computer industry impenetrability and the sort of obscure technology that proves to be even more tedious when you understand it than when you merely gaze upon it with the dulled eyes of despair.
However, on page 47, it shakes its dust-caked drab feathers and reveals a tiny glimpse of something glittering below. You have to look at the document to get the full effect, and I wouldn’t recommend it, but under the title Rotating Mirrors we find
Preparing for midnight, we
Start re-silvering our oldest mirror
We use the old one because it’s midnight
The best part is that this actually makes sense in the arcana of backup technology. But the formatting (there shouldn’t be the space between the last two lines, but for some reason I can’t get rid of it here) makes it a tiny, haikuesque treat – I would suspect that it’s deliberate, were it not for the rest of the document being as cloddingly lifeless as any of its ilk.
That space was there in preview but vanished when I posted.
Beats me. Computers and poetry, eh?
R