Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Phenomenalology

Phenomenalology

Now that is what I’d call
a real chair, the fragrance
of chairness billowing out
marvelously from beneath
the armrests. This chair
is definitively there, we
agree on the space it takes
to exist. Place it in a meadow,
and yellow butterflies will
land along its frame, when
you scoot the chair away,
yellow wings will remain,
floating, twitching, an outline
of a chair so convincing
someone would try to sit.
Do not talk to me about
reupholstery. Sacrilege.
Anyone sitting here, you
ask. Passel of butterflies
trumpets in tinny, quivering
chorus, you!

5 comments:

  1. The way this moves from a satiric take on all those object poems of 50-100 years ago to a quite poignant piece of found art -- let us be as we are without the mind, please -- seems to hover (like a butterfly) around the word "reupholstery" - indicating its uselessness even for a Duchampian object purpose. Or maybe i'm reading too much into it; perhaps due to your odd title, which I take to be a hybrid of phenomenology (the study of consciousness) and alology (interest in new ideas). At any rate, you bring spring-time death alive without showing any springs!

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  2. Really enjoyed this imagery today. I love to read unique pieces like these.

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  3. Witty and profound at the same time. I especially like the line about reupholstery.

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  4. That opening, about the fragrance...some things are not authentic without a certain olfactory trait. "Passel" is a new word for me, excellent.

    Insects forming objects, like Popeye versus the termites...

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  5. "the fragrance of chariness" So perfectly perfect.

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