the medal rises...

the medal rises while the sun after fifty years of service retires into the calcined wheels of the light.

it was man who replaced alarm clocks with earthquakes, showers of rice with downpours of hail. the shadow of man encountering the shadow of a fly causes a flood, and it was man who taught the horses to embrace like presidents. with his eleven and a half tails man counts ten and a half objects in the furnished room of the universe: the scarecrows wearing volcanoes and geysers in their buttonholes, the show windows of eruptions, the displays of lava-string, the systems of solar currency, the labeled stomachs, the walls razed by poets, the palettes of the caesars, the stock-still lifes, the stables of the sphinxes, and the eyes of the man who turned to stone while squinting at sodom.

enter the continents without knocking but with a filigree muzzle.

leaves never grow on trees, like a mountain in a bird's-eye view they have no perspective. the onlooker is always in the wrong vis-a-vis a leaf. as for branches trunks and roots i declare that they are bald men's lies. like a lion ferociously sniffing a succulent young married couple the lime tree grows docilely on the boarded plains. the start of the chestnut tree and the oak tree is signaled by the lowered flag. the cypress is not a shank of a eucharist ballet.

harnessed four abreast before the four preceding ones, like cemeteries for ventriloquists or fields of honor, the insects come out. here is eve, the only one still left. she is the white accomplice of the newspaper robbers, here is the cuckoo, the origin of the clock, the noise of its jaws is like the noise of heavily falling air. thus one includes among the insects vaccinated bread, the chorus of cells, the lightning under fourteen years of age, and your humble servant.

the sky of the seascapes was decorated by expressionist upholsterers who hung up a shawl of frost flowers. during the harvest of conjugal diamonds one meets on the seas immense mirrored wardrobes floating on their backs. the mirror is replaced by waxed floors and the wardrobe itself by castles in the air. these mirrored wardrobes hire themselves out as boxing rings to midwives and storks for their countless rounds or as stools to gigantic rusty feet which rest on them and sometimes take a few steps on them, pampam. that's why the seas are called pampas because pam means pace and two paces are pampam.

thus you see that one doesn't consume one's pater except slice by slice, it's impossible to do it in a single picnic an even the lemon falls to its knees before the beauty of nature.

BACK TO 1925

BACK TO ARP MAIN PAGE