Cantos XI-XII by Teg George

Canto XI



the god breathes on the chariot

            and the axle turns like the god’s spine

upon itself until the wheel


            rides the earth spinning then revolving

over and upon itself and breaks

            so that races can demob


divinity buried with the chariot’s wheel

            cohorts run over now by knights

mounted on winged horses


            breathing again within campaigns in the East

Dasius’ namesake buried by the Danube

            progenitor entombed in maybe Vukovar


or Dalj--no script bears witness yet a diploma

            graved in bronze carries some

of Nero’s breath even into Parthia  [into Illyricum]


            Pannonian reinforcements sent to Syria

perhaps destroying

            the temples throughout time


Dušanic sd/ the cavalry was more useful

            in most campaigns

than the auxiliary infantry


            gravity leaks into the fifth dimension

Nima sd/                      Age of Aquarius

            not to incriminate myself


"Scaling up to 512 CPU's is pretty damn studly," sd/ Torvalds.

            "Putting twenty of them in a cluster and making them

programmable as a single machine is pretty hot."


            I wish we could

possibly be together            the sweet fragrance of your



not to king my last row

            barley hops and yeast

alios age incitatos


            alios age rabidos

Mr. Cartier-Bresson sd/ “For me, the passion

            is to look, to look, to look.”


furniture equipment and leasehold improvements are carried

            at cost less accumulated depreciation and amortization

depreciation of furniture and equipment is provided over


            the estimated lives of the respective assets

on a straight-line basis amortization of leasehold improvements

            is provided over the lesser of the estimated useful life


of the improvement or the life of the lease on a straight-line

            basis no assets were removed in 2003 or 2002

now your husband sleeps content


            come out and greet his friends

gathered outside your windows

            come out and listen to our cheers


come out and lift your bodice

            so we can know the joys of marriage

without having to commit to its pain


            come out and sing your wedding song

come out and drum on the balcony’s spine

            drum on the balcony’s floor


come out with painted hair with curled hair

            with close clothes

dripping from joy in the marriage bed


            come out to greet your husband’s

friends’ wives whose joy overpowers

            even the grocer’s most fragrant cheeses


come out to cheer the wives who have

            not seen their husbands at night

lo these many years


            come out and shine come and dine

on your neighbors’ spleen for they thought

            you would never encourage him


never trap him never rope his scrawny

            limbs into the hammock of Hymen’s joy

boathouse on that same


            barnstorm        wearing a white

constellate            with the foreign instrumentation

            had been having            dry            the barman drew


IBS sd/ “I was, one might say, a solipsist

            long before I ever heard of the word.”

or if I don’t piss in the dough            I will never rise


            a bright flash of

light strikes my body fills it

            with makeup


if you don’t get out of dumbarton oaks

            it will swallow you alive

as russia swallowed poland


            only to have to regurgitate it whole

two centuries later                  Zguto give back what

            you have taken from me and I will


release you from dumbarton oaks

            you have my heart snared in your deep

black hair the curls enrapturing me


            with night the curls scented with your

pungent black berry rizzle how I long for release

            from spice made of black hair            bonds


even the Messiah’s hair could not

            entangle me as yours does if you

let me go I will allow you to pass


            even Satan’s tresses could not wrap

me as tightly as yours if you let me

            go you may marry the Mineola Mensch


but before I pass I set the stones

            to cover my retreat  do not move

them as my body’s rest deserves


            care as only these stones can provide

even love even love

            heavy in their protectiveness


weight given and weight taken tinier

            stones to fill the gaps and large ones

that roll untended to their places


            like disobedient malcontents shaped

finally by their proportions rather than

            their statures             sink them and they


rebound as the ground heaves from frost

            raise them and they fall from stones

unraveling their courses


            pebbles know nothing those boulders

forget they keep the secrets of the universe

            as well as my secrets engraved


with my bones so that only a soothsayer

            can toss my finger joints to discover

the truth so long unfleshed


            heaven must be hades

in the endless sea of



Canto XII



maybe Crispus was like Zorba

            in that he kicked ass on his father’s

behalf but his father could not


fathom his love of the zither

            so the instrument of their parting

“strummed once, twice, then hung”


sd/ Ankh-haf “I don’t think he’s

            ever grown up” and “I can’t be

a lumberjack” Molyneux sd/


Jimmy the Dane ate the blond hash

            before the rest of us could smoke it

then Ankh-haf the Vizier shat it


so we could smoke it again

            he asked that his last name be withheld

so he shite it


“the saddest thing in life is Harold

            Ramis and Bill Murray not getting

together for laughs anymore” sd/ Jimmy


            the sorrow I feel for Dasius

and Crispus is linked to my sadness

            at my mother’s passing


            both men served the emperor admirably

yet were sacrificed through some fluke

            of irrationality linked inexorably


            to the irrationality capturing mother’s

mind in Alzheimer’s            even the notion

            of a mind captured suffers


            from the irrationality of dualism

since no mind can be captured from our

            body which possesses it utterly


            and inseparably            even Yeats’

spiritus mundi is a laughable concept

            where the force suffuses us


            open other end            open other end

refrigerate after opening

            I only have eyes for you


trompe l’oeil cassus belli

            blood for oil

yellowcake for redman


yellowman for red velvet cake

            Ivan for Blue Man Group

harlequin for Pablo


Blue Boy for King George

            oxygen for Kerryman

nitrogen for Kennewick Man


NAGPRA blows Burke Museum

            NPCA blows Park Service

ARPA blows eBay


Dubyah munching Bologna rolled

            around marshmallows JH sd/

queer sushi for an emperor duck


emperor and Donald Ritchie rich

            beyond your dreams pit us against

each other ich bin laden mit Kriegkraft


            Seek not for the rock of gall

here it has departed            another multiverse

            blended unbegotten


            o nimis optato saeclorum tempore nati

bogus bogisatva guarding the door of the womb

            tell Avalokiteshvara to void clear light


            tell Uspensky the tomatoes are ripe

water them less and let the sun pull

            them to fullness as the temporal


            has temptations written in red

sauce around our eggplants called

            minds listen to folks from Parma


            deep in the fields sheep bleat joy

later written as cheese swept

            to high hardness and aged Latin


            body swapping works better

than brain bandying or so we’re

            told in Mary Shelley’s treatise


Easter wake            napalm Sunday

            island shift      volcano goddess

quake god            sea god            rhythm up up


for ages six to twelve to six

            deep healing  deep heat

langsam            Doctorsan       Nosun            No


Sinking god            rising god      simmer ten

            minutes until tender            god bone

gnawing god            barbecue goddess


charcoal manifestations            reed breather

            first world to the roof of the second

world drawn up up        rhythm fire goddess


Zorba set dharma at hearth stone

            burn with rain            dry in snow    bake

at 350 for 40 minutes until tooth


pick comes out clean then layer

            with cream cheese frosting and dot

with cherries and chocolate stars


            O mighty Bud ha

Giv us utmost lack

            ease our want


            below the hearth wood melts

below the hearth ash melts

            below the hearth swords melt


            Liv dharma deep within fire

Zorba deep            litany win

            fire            altar            man            woman


            sing w/o rain thundermouth

begin lack            begin want

            win swords melt dharma


            deep deep     sansui            high high

show fire            show snow

            melt dharma win altar


            Henry B. was hit in the head and killed

last weekend while coming about

            then knocked into the bay off Annapolis


where mines and tanks and planes

            and rich men who pit us against other

men that have no cow in W’s corral


where our next meal will come not

            from breasts not out of our sweat either

but from blood and steel welded


in disconnectedness         here we

            are split and split again            state

against state            poor vs. poor


“Holy shit!” sd/ Moskowitz “Everything

            is easy until you get to the Byzantine

Empire.  It’s impossible.  One


emperor is always killing the other,

            and everyone has five wives or three

husbands.  It’s very Byzantine.”


whether Constantine felt guilt

             (whether Bassus felt guilt)

damnatio memoriae            official dementia



Cantos I