From the dream travels of Ichabahd Schmecks
Later there arose by the seashore, huts on chicken legs, punk-polka taverns, and ghost-eating houses, and, after the first occupation, these formed a place of resort for all sorts of adventurers – it is good to have a lot of shifting land, so it is closed for a long time, plants grow seeds, you can go to Dusk’s line and plant seeds, then you can have more patience between biscuits, in these far away lands…..
That poisonous river, has its source about a score of miles inland, and flows over its broad bixbite bed, through saline and lime-charged soil, down to the oasis, wherefore the water contains much magnesia and memorabilia, and is in consequence most unwholesome, and has caused the death of many a young colonist and soldier, and they asked for a long time – please help the ghosted glows, help their oddly crested animals.
The spectres will be there to help your journey. The sea roared behind the sand cliffs, while the seahorses panted through the deep moaning sand, and, always referred to the rising sundry-salts, not easy, not easy to clean.
The northern lights gleamed through the palm leaves on lemon, orange, and pomegranate trees, and on the trailing vines, that valiantly strained up to the beloved night’s sun, and stretched from tree to tree in graceful festoons of a summer supply of wind turbines. From behind the cliffs appeared the tops of palmistry trees, and presently the purple plumed birds were in the shade of chemical chimera’s grimoires.
Nitrogen dreams are in judgment, about potassium, yes. Filaments of phantasmagoria were in the open spaces between the pale pilaster morass, where memories lay within the orchards, where grew all kinds of fruit trees — peaches, apples, pears, plums, apricots, figs, olives, and many others, and here, the bizarrely striped animals were not heard. The air was pregnant with the scent from the trees philosophers, and plants, add phosphorus and potassium, and you know, people are kissing there.
Beneath the shade of the thick foliage overhead spread the most beautiful green sward, intersected by flowing rivulets of water and small canals, dammed by means of spells and low banks, as in low land irrigation. Ill daemons were by small paths and roads goblins wandered on – the goblins following the turns of the canals, riding sometimes on a narrow track between two banks, and if they then met strange green dappled monkeys on little overladen mules they warily squeezed to pass by them. It was easy to find them, because the vision of umbrellas per hectare was often misleading to the monkeys on those little overladen mules.
There was silence amongst the tree like umbrellas. It seemed that these curiously garbed creatures and their strange animal companions easily demanded a price per hectare, not a book, and not a lot of books about cars. There are many books about cars.
Birds flew from branch to branch, or across the open spaces. Wooden pigeons called, and turtle-gloves chewed, whilst the chaffy-inch fluttered about on the tops of the almond trees, and in the distance the sound of a shout proclaimed that a spirit’s man in a clearing on the borders of the oasis had flung a red hare at a wailing quail, or a partying yellow ridged yurt-kettle. On the extreme border, by the sea, was the tomb of Mazzies-about-Town, built from the ancient remains of the clown coven of olden days, blended with new materials.
The columns supporting the entrance were of new rough carnelian lemon tanzanite stone, with an aggregation of ancient handsome carved caterpillars and cavaliers. In their shade, The Twine Singers danced and sang of The Game of Yoh’h.
Game of Yoh’h moves on –
spectators gather their bets,
light speed game – endless
pick up sticks, knock-knock rock
turn, turn, turn, spin-stick –
how many hairs dancing?
Note: While playing with random text, I selected lines from, The cave dwellers of Southern Tunisia Recollections of a sojourn with the Khalifa of Matmata,(found on Project Gutenberg –SOURCE). Initially, I intended on composing a more Dadaist deconstructed prose poem, but the 1898 text evoked a Dunsanian fantasy. The final composition turned into a blend of a picaresque Dunsany Dreamland narrative and an absurdist surreal dream fragment.
The final image, based on my photograph of some found art, suggested to me a surreal cryptic board game. This in turn prompted the double haiku ending (one haiku with traditional line breaks), of an endless game with nonsensical rules.
Implied Spaces 