plume now scratches the screen at

{Thursday, March 04, 2004}
coursework, off course

some are drawn and quartered; i transgress the sundial. i just left the final session of my first freshman seminar. i intended to teach (:: cheat?) surrealism but the dark blackboard commandant first wrought "french realism" & frightened my silly bus. we were soused with orthodoxy, read a lot and then some (drearest readerst...)...

but what i mean to say is: i left my final session just this afternoon. while three students were hastily preparing their presentation and the rest of us waited for christmas, i suggested we try our arms and legs at automatic writing, of a particular kind, where once in a while any writer cries out a word she comes across in his script. (for argument's sake, i display my produce in the showcase below). the experiment was interrupted by a bicycle bell (which was very à propos, considering that since last sunday i am the proud owner of an adopted bicycle, thanks to my friend Cathy).

the bell was quite real, yet had no wheels attached to it. in the wake of my tardy students, a large woman comes in to fill the door. it is the weather or rather the bell, she paused puzzled, we ring for service with it. how? when? how alarming (:: marginal)! i sympathized. but since the class had started quarter of an hour earlier, we were off the hook. (the bell was an unwitting reference to a similarly shaped object in Guy Madden's Cowards bend the knee). amidst the sudden roar, the three presenters distributed personalized handouts.

the surrealist dictionary, the result of many nocturnal labors, was published in sixteen copies with unique covers. one was a triangle of three couches with the word "SCANDAL" printed on top. another, "SUNSHINE" with grocery-store cut-outs, such as "angel soft," "lucky," and other wares that bring happiness and cheer to our households. another one was a big "O" with the word "m a k i n g" in upper left, "P" "ASSES" in mid-right, joined by a swimming orange figure, A-shaped bridge in the middle, "AT" "f a i t h." mine was a letter "e" with lee bontecou's eyes orbiting around it.

all the while Julia was snapping photos.

having set a date for another encounter at my house, we left the classroom in disarray. my students led me onto the library roof, momentarily covered with fog. i have half a fear of heights and kept away from sharp edges. there are anti-nuclear booths on the library's roof.

actually, i really itch to post some of my students' writings. there is at least a quarter-ton of talent in that crowd. and if you're around northwestern in a few weeks, inquire about the surrealist exhibit (ah, if i'm denied the space, it shall be itinerant! all in one valise).

oranges peeled off like pantyhose mellifluous osseous more than ever upon the roof they climbed toward the upper staircase where the letter stood maximum, toward the clock tabletop flat as the left hand of desire. I saw the wave curve towards the horizon and Hegel wielded a fist filled with dishwater. Where are you now that we've forgotten smelly arduous sands sharp like swallows' wings. Buttocks impressed in the sand, grains chipped with his teeth, tall Vikings with their green grass taller than a polar bear. I want to crawl under the skin of sand, love letters misspelled rough pebbles, she, boy george, she thinks nothing else of the fire hydrant grew into osmosis with kingkong, kongo-bongo, what other names would frisbies give what sound would bicycle make if it rained. E N D

plumed @ 9:32 PM | 0 comments



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