Sunday, June 23, 2013

Iris and Iris, 2 Poems from 1977

This little booklet, hand sewn with yellow thread and cover bordered in gold pencil, came from early August of 1977, year of the NYC 25 hour blackout, Jimmy Carter pardoning the Viet Nam draft dodgers and announcing we must do something to counteract our massive oil consumption, and the year the World Trade Center was finished . . .  larry goodell

     The following poem, also for the goddess Iris (and her equivalents), is read left to right first line, right to left second line and on back and forth. The arrows will clue you which lines are to be read backwards. You can see it also in this parcel of broadsides from the 70's: 6 Broadsides from the 70's from duende press

"I prefer the unknown." 
Jack Spicer  

Iris I cant find out anything about you but I love you and am yr wings
out fish I all is gods the of messenger intertwine we and mine are you or
of this cavern. I prefer to be alone & with you lightly bearing the snake stick
hair of flowers the off headband the kissing other each up & around coil we
falling down I pick up and fall down in you touch air which is yr purity
race up light up lit particles out burst speckled rainbow the of rain
the sky to the other end of the world together forever doing good to each other
soft count that ways little the ,way the pointing goods delivering
in yr soft hair I love you till the rainbow plunges in dark count of
.together cave the into us forcing us against down bearing rocket the
There is no other way but the way of the unknown as you came to me
hair and face my washing morning the in up sun prism the from blinding
and lift to do the day, that way I know. "You do your poems!" someone
tickling earth of ends the as true ,friend a was it and me at shouted
between the toes where shallow rivulets fall down between me and the nearest friend
intertwine we and fly and direct but ask not do dear true only my you
vines up each other to the bloom of the first sunflower turning red to attract the hummingbirds
up me holding ,voice no ,earth no ,spaceless being ways our in set are we
the airy innards spilled out in the lay of love, the old singer’s voice
around dancing and alone other each on back splashing ,cracking ,clacking
counterclockwise on toes tipping up and off the earth forever.

larry goodell

this is a duende press tattered old manuscript broadside was resurrected february 2006 as part of 6 Broadsides from the 70's using Issuu & Scribd. larry Goodell

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