Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Behold a Rupture of the Bastard Crimson.

The long-haired sphinx wears
a knotted helmet of glass bamboo
whose single hollow tube is a wasp-hive
which terminates in a special chamber
inside the sphinx's head.

There, on tiny pillows of warm rubbery ice
is a whistling green 6-legged insectoid boar
whose silken tongue folds out like a paper
castle and inside among the black and white
patterned gallerys is the chromotrog, the neutral
captive, a pure being of color, an elemental agency
whose single devotion is the chromatic universe
in all its splendor.

The long haired sphinx is holding a crimson loaf, a blood red
batarde. There is a single tear moving down its cheek which
upon closer inspection turns out to be a tiny transparent
spider-mite with an infinitesimally small cacti-brain
with a single thorn which is an antenna and whose message
is a simple numeric frequency shift of whatever data it
receives.

Both the Sphinx's thumbnails are tiny video-screens.
One is an endless ocean, and the other and endless
desert.

The Sphinx says only one sentence:

Voyez la rupture du bâtard cramoisi.

1 comment:

Cocaine Jesus said...

"Voyez la rupture du bâtard cramoisi."