Here’s a profound dada koan. It would be bad taste for me to call something I’d written profound but since this is a dada koan it means I grabbed all the phrases and words, readymade, from a candy box that has a notecard marked “Surrealism” scotch-taped to its lid. These candy boxes are easy to come by. Wait a couple weeks for Walgreen’s to have another $5 sale. Anyway, it’s the candy box that deserves any accolades for profundity.
WHITMAN’S SAMPLER BOX (blushing)
Aw c’mon, guys. Twarn’t nuffin.
Here’s the above flamingo-colored cut-up poem sailing on its blue-green rectangle in B&W:
you’re never too old to
be hiding behind something.
an overweight comedian
the Internet
three red lipsticks,
stop being a snowflake
falling onto tables
waiting
to die first
Thanks very much for stopping by. Brotchie’s A Book of Surrealist Games has lots of inspiring word-play strategies by Tristan Tzara and other Dada experts.
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Unrelated Addendum #1: Note to a wonderful composer/musician. My Insignia CD player is silent. It has 9 buttons including 2 on/off switches on the sides. I’ve tried these buttons in all different configurations but nothing. Batteries are new and correctly placed. This happened last year too and when I brought it over to Best Buy, the blue shirts had it singing my Ultra Lounge CD– Teach me, Tiger, whoa whoa whoa– in two shakes of a dachshund’s tail. But that Best Buy is a Target now. Everything in Chicago is either a condo or a Target, by the way. Anyway, hoping to find a remedy to this problem soon so I can hear songs with titles like: The Hand That Feeds Me Could’ve Used a Little Salt (Troll Braille CD by Walker Evans).
Unrelated Addendum #2: Wow, I’ve really put a lot of weight on recently. Wonder if something’s bothering me.
Unrelated Addendum #3: Turns out I’ve formatted 300-plus pages completely, totally wrong. I guess you don’t tab over or count out 5 spaces to indent paragraphs anymore. What a mess.
Unrelated Addendum #4: Lots of novels piling up in To Read stacks including several by Dawn Powell. Despite this fact, last night I stayed up to re-read her A Time To Be Born which is a roman a` clef about Clare Luce Booth (Amanda Keeler) and her newspaper magnate husband. The early description of her house–“the marble-floored, marble-benched foyer”– with its gargoyles and “urns of enormous chrysanthemums” is pretty great, as is, actually, the entire book. Here’s a sample bit that concerns a different character:
“She was thirty-two but she looked like a woman of forty so well-preserved she could pass for thirty-two.”