Writer in Residence · 12/30/2010

Clown How She Said

THE REMIX:

CLOWN HOW SHE SAID

Before the letter, bleeding
after the funeral, gesturing
only to Pierrot.

Now, long days
along the roads,
long red shoes
and polka dots.

Now long nights
around campfires
gesturing the gristly aftermath
and the air spoke.

Long nights
now camped
in clearings
amidst black juts
of vacant forests
and the air curled
into words.

Long days
along the roads
and no animals
but those found
fly-swaddled, ascending.

In the hum
of flies
recall now
those tigers
and elephants,
newsreels and
microfilm spools.

Long nights
on the road
into ravines,
hoops doused
with lighter fluid.

Under the pitch,
Pierrot spoke
white gloves
smeared with red
flies buzzing.

Long days
and Pierrot and
ancient faces
of goats.

Long days
the ghost wane
of gases.

Now, one Pierrot
one Pierrot
those bloodshot
eyes and glistening
cavities.

How he staggered
all static
into the city
now, a city
spilled open

a city of figments
of shoes
of a long ago voice
and rats and bleached
white jawbones.

Lost now
within a city of dense
wide tickertape
and confetti.

Lost now
against wallpapered
apartment buildings
and haunted houses
filled with bowling pins
and cue balls
and shadow puppets
of rats
of children
of fathers
of beetles
and mice.

Pierrot lost
and blipping
and hissing.

Now from Pierrot’s pocket
lost within the shattered tatters
of a letter, she was alive yet
lost within.

Lost within.

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Remixer’s process: Basically an erasure/chop-up/re-genre. No words added by me — they’re all RK’s. Except I think I might have conjugated a few things here or there. The basic structure remains, my process involved taking the opening phrase (or a phrase near the opening) of each paragraph and then either cutting huge hunks of middle and tying it to an end phrase or else zeroing in on some perceived pattern of repetition within the paragraph.

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Christopher Higgs ruminates and theorizes on literature and aesthetics, while educating the youth at Florida State University. He authored The Complete Works of Marvin K. Mooney (Sator Press, 2010), and is currently in the process of authoring other such belletristic wonders. Should you find yourself in the mood for pleasure, visit his curatorial project at Bright Stupid Confetti.

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posted by Robert Kloss