Thursday, January 20, 2011

Collaborative Texts

Several collaborative texts from our recent meeting with Ron Sakolsky:

Seaweed Breakfast

Tiny particles open onto poisonous smiles as the lid of the coffin closes and closes and closes and suddenly a bell rings underwater but the sound is muffled by the night air and hair falling from the trees. Motors collapse under your eyelids, heavy with wind that rustles around the back door. Wrestlers dance ring-around-the-rosy from dawn until another tree collapses from the weight of the hair. So I tie them up in ponytails and braid them like dreadlocks of green seaweed that smells vaguely of dandelions and floating islands consisting of tortoise shells and seaweed necklaces tightened round the necks of alabaster cakes.

The spatula slaps the pancake in the face.


The Abstract Gorillas

The mechanical birds gathered around feasting on the flesh of roasted peat moss and bears. Other creatures talk quietly while baring their yellow teeth, and yellow toes, yelling about dirt and the Abstract Gorillas kiss and lick in cacophonous smacks, all of the back doors closing with a slam and the front doors wide open in anticipation of cheese. Other apparitions appeared to be floating like a souffle puffing up and up under the old lady's skirt. A mastodon sneezes her up to the skylight with the force of a swift wind winder.

These types often get upset over the most minor aberrations like small buffalo stampedes and empty enema bags.



When snow falls up in ickly blue flakes it drops down into old buckets of rusty body parts which glow like worms of green hue looking quite lovely in the reflection from your eye's eye. I painted a large hexagon on your belly with my sperm, no I didn't think it inappropriate at all, in fact your scent was thrilling to the parakeet too.

His/her feathers vibrated in time with the pseudomusical groin calculations of starry nights aboard sinking ships. Audrey was taken by a sudden impulse to eat mud and, according to her nature, vomited.


Several rounds of "If, Then, Because" (variation of Le Cadavre Exquis game):

If boats fly then my sister's lips are wet because antlers are heavy.

If carousels spin then grab your hat because the backsliding preacher is among us.

If money grew on trees then all the trees walk because some people aren't very careful.

If bugs fly then mountains excrete sand because your hands are curled tightly around his thighs.

If the night was day then ants would dance because sand drifts under the door.

If brooms walk among us then keys are only used to open what is stuck because mice like privacy.

If bellowing behemoths embrace in automobiles then eagles sing because sections of the ceiling will collapse.

If the piano catches fire then music burns your fingers because girls like fun.

If drill sergeants laugh then salamanders whirl like dervishes because the red rhinoceros peeks through the hedges twice a day.

If the tiles on the floor flew up your nose then old men see things because the crimson carapace cracks.

If Victorian ambulances appear unexpectedly then coconut trees are like candy to foresters because spider webs are sticky.

If lakes shimmer at night then the black tooth glows feverishly because underneath your doormat is not my resting place.

If your face was made of sausages and lace then flower petals feel soft because electric sea creatures are not always very friendly.

If space capsules land on your house then the laughter of penguins would not be in vain because all people like surprises.

If oranges are edible then birthday cakes explode because the right side of your face doesn't know what the left side is saying.

- R.Sakolsky, S.Higgins, W.A.Davison, Toronto, Jan. 16, 2011

No comments:

Post a Comment