the frequent lapses of control by the conscious. it includes: the question that is undefined, the behaviour of the architecture in respect to its punctuation, as characteristic of a given set of co-ordinates, a matter of indisputable fact, or declines & is breathless, the pronominal invention "quand le corps s'impose," as no longer reflecting with his intellect he follows his imagination & loses himself in the particular … the recalcitrant mummer chantant dans la brume, impostured in bare outline, & therefore ignorant of itself, who too near gathers in the worldly hunt of t-leaves, ceylon, from as & affect to between la parodie terrestre & vieux fan-fan de tulipe, waving his starched petticoats in the humid afternoon air, with quinine for company, & so intimate my dear lady pantagruel, a rare blood type b-negative-will know soon enough, i vowel you, if she's the true son & heir, little hands, of with turns various mechanical attributes, things if because not objects a whole treasure chest in desirable prostheses, as clairvoyance, well-healed & close as jackbooted "la marche" & "la danse" under fear of freezing through to rags & aroused only by its squalor if it had a neck to hang by, the prelate's warm drooling liquidity … & to separate this from that begging, in effect, for penance though by no distinct means such immodesty to speak of, if it culminate in sin mortal or venal & that instant, arkady said, might correspond to what you have called paradise as much as waiting for the weather to change waldimar to estrogen or poison in jest these recent eclipses she is like the moon, très symboliste, draped in borrowed cerements la femme d'un certain âge with her marriage lines read out of hearing in the winter garden the priest has such green fingers a true botanical, oh but how does your garden grow? she asked, directing her phrase towards its future interpretation (no longer a sculptural form in space but site of endlessly conjuncted re-presentations) or laughter echoing in the chamber responds to the ear eye mouth nearest to hand, as her neck snaps, a thin s, & under what circumstances you have made up their overture the old sibilant ferry plying the waters of (passing around the heads, & what happened to so & so sets everything on edge) slipping a coin from his friday paypacket of bulk-buys & women loose to their teeth feeding piquant virgilian, georgic, pseudo-polyglot near perfect v.s.o.p., the translation machine at full tilt automatic french (cette science qui mêle la gravité des preceptes avec la doucer du langage) the convent school is opposite the window & i comes to a climax & turns himself into n walks over this bridge with lungs hanging out a parody twitching & genuflecting, he's had his bit too & is back all the time only they knew he'd arrive again like a postal train, 11.55, gare saint-lazare: il faut conduire la loco plus de cinquante kilometres par heure. don't go giving me that, allah, he says. of how much sickness, to have of the smells most alternative & the cognomen indefinable, so it's necessary to reset & assemble empty of tripe of sliced up puling catastrophe as giordano & jan "john" huss, trussed up in their summer finery & itself, the passionate spiritus, with its approaching jester: elle a chaud au cul, as they sing the rosy vierge of jericho, passing the punch over their antedeluvian gravy boats all high & mighty, gin & dry laughter … call it a desert, a clapped-out reveille, provided that words & judgement &c; the attention of sure teeth & despite of twitching separate so fluoridically correspond (we don't remember how)-each action hangs, inconsequentially, over adjectives (how many patient alternatives await fulfilling?), unextracted paradoxes, breathless empty icy streets, anticipated curtain calls with no one approaching, love not provided, baseless intrigue: the hunt, la chase, from lack of ready substitutes, or deus ex machina fidgeting in the corner of a part-stipended room (the windows have been closed despite or because of the heat), salt licking in the wound, even as an apparition appears, a morbid encampment thrice adieu re-member me, the proctor in his lazar house counting his foul roubles, a pocket apprenticeship as set down in tortuous detail by the soviet's star novelist, to reveal some lack of concupiscence, meaning: "as with science, which has ceased to be descriptive & does not speak of the aspect but of the constitution" his secret amanuensis also goes deeply into thought, the antipodes of man, who is by definition the fundamental protagonist of all reality-the search party sets out in the hind quarters of x, an architecture in the period design there are interruptions, some apparently for no reason torrential rain that's buzzing like a nest of wasps furiously humming under eaves, a smell of dung & mud, of warm flanks & monotony & oily rags indefinable by prescription & incomparably stained-it spreads, until she finds herself stuttering despondently, as if to evoke the punctum of state or godhead, begging them to partition the vastness, to remunerate, to gather what's worthy of attrition, & culminates in a single gob of innocence: that a man who is not a function of the reality about him does not exist