Slenderizing

Slenderizing is a simple enough method; it consists merely of removing all instances of a given letter from a source text. The catch is that the resulting text must make sense, i.e., all the remaining words must be actual words. (Dearth becomes death, or dire becomes die, to give two macabre examples.) What results is, of course, a lipogram, albeit one that is especially frustrating to compose.

The poem below and its slenderized progeny are both originals.

The Breach

I grazed on a prawn as the ocean roiled
Through nights as sinuous as cinema reels,
Saw youths doing ninety, then braking, coiled,
Each breast streaming sweat behind each wheel.

In the breach, feet always trapped on the gas,
Death was the wager that caused them to stray.
The strand’s portent wind was howling for crash,
But the drivers disdained the warning of the day.

I sipped Sprite and gin, as the teenage vixens
All watched with a heart that crackled in sin;
Seeing these beaus in tempestuous frictions
Built up to a craving to shred the day’s skin.

The maddening drip of time’s unending tricks
Dissolved as they laughed at the farce of the gods,
While I creased my brow, feeling branded and sick
By my ceaseless compulsion to pray to the clock.

*

The Beach

I gazed on a pawn as the ocean oiled,
Though nights as sinuous as cinema eels
Saw youths doing ninety, then baking, coiled,
Each beast steaming sweat behind each wheel.

In the beach, feet always tapped on the gas;
Death was the wage that caused them to stay.
The stand’s potent wind was howling for cash,
But the dives disdained the waning of the day.

I sipped spite and gin, as the teenage vixens
All watched with a heat that cackled in sin;
Seeing these beaus in tempestuous fictions
Built up to a caving to shed the day’s skin.

The maddening dip of time’s unending ticks
Dissolved as they laughed at the face of the gods,
While I ceased my bow, feeling banded and sick
By my ceaseless compulsion to pay to the clock.

Larding: "These Squirrels Were Equipped..."

The sentences I began with were from the claims of an Iranian blogger, "These squirrels were equipped by foreign intelligence services, but were captured two weeks ago by the Police" [and the subsequent quote by the IRNA] "I have heard about it, but I do not have precise information." I feel quite confident you can find the "article" should you feel compelled to look for it.

"These Squirrels Were Equipped..."

"These squirrels were equipped by foreign intelligence services, but were captured two weeks ago by the Police". Mr. Pebbles folded his newspaper in quarters, set it down on his breakfast nook table, adjusted his tortoise shell glasses, and sighed into his hand. Outside, the sun was in full riot among the tulips - a fair coup for July in Kentshire. 14? Then there was always the chance that Rocky was still alive. If any of them had survived it would be Rocky...tough little bastard, thought Pebbles sipping his tea. Mr. Maize in America would be calling soon, as would Home Office - so much to do. As he placed his newspaper in the sink and lit it with a pipe match, Pebbles remembered the first time he had met Rocky. It was Hyde Park in Autumn, and suddenly there he was, a Scurius vulgaria, 40 cm long from nose to tail, and red as an Irish terrorist - he appeared to be attempting to eat a smoldering cigarette. You don't want that, little fellow, he'd thought, moments before his precocious soon-to-be student blew a tiny smoke ring. Breezing through his espionage and subversion classes faster than many human students, Rocky had been a Scurius Savant, the obvious choice to lead the mission. And now, perhaps...the phone rang, Pebbles turned on the faucet, dousing the last flames of the newspaper.
"Pebbles."
"Yes, Gerald, I'm glad you're home. I assume you've heard the disquieting news."
"Yes, Gerald, I've only just read about it in the tabloids. No chance the Iranians are bluffing, I suppose."
"Doubtful, I'm afraid."
"Yes, I was afraid of that."
"You were close to one of them weren't you, number 67?"
"Yes, Rocky, my prize student."
"Well, about that, you see, several of our people around London have turned up dead. All of them connected to the Animal Recognizance division in one way or another..."
"What are you trying to say Gerald?"
"Well, Gerald, frankly you worked with this...animal. What are the chances he could have been turned? I only ask because...from our mapping of these murders, it all points toward your direction. In all your years of this work, have you ever heard of such a thing?"
Gerald Pebbles turned around into the sunlight, which now cascaded through the window and across the little smoke rings coming from the far side of the table. Stately, toothy, number 67 stood upright and flicked his cigarette into the sink - his incisors bright as angel's eyes.
"I have heard about it, but I do not have precise information."

Diamond Snowball

The Snowball is a poetic form in which each line consists of one word, with the first word containing one letter, the second word two letters, and so on. The variation of this form represented below is called a Diamond Snowball, in which, following the middle line of the poem, each subsequent one-word line decreases by one letter, such that the final line of the poem is only one letter long. (Somehow, Diamond Snowball sounds like an innovative new strain of cocaine.) If letters don't strike an author's fancy, Snowballs can also be written with a gradual increase of syllables, words, or any other morphological or semantic unit.

Imperial Passage

I
go
out
into
grimy,
random
streets,
imperial,
beholding
confounded
daytrippers’
functionless
perambulating–
unapproachable,
uncompassionate.
Metastatically,
schadenfreude
exterminates
sympathetic
appraisals
regarding
humanity,
cruelly
paring
until,
from
the
"we,"
"I."

Chimera continued

Below please find another Chimera (see the post from June 25 for a definition of the form). The source text is the paragraph in Ronald Reagan's farewell address in which he describes what he sees when he contemplates John Winthrop's phrase "a shining city upon a hill," a phrase that Reagan often quoted to describe America. The nouns from the paragraph have been replaced by the nouns from Sonic Youth's song "Tom Violence"; the adjectives, by the adjectives from SY's "Tuff Gnarl." The treatment does appropriate violence to the source; "shining city upon a hill" has now become "hard tit crush upon a sin." Which phrase better describes the United States at present?

And that's about all I have to say tonight, except for tuff violence. The fatal smart dreams when I've been at that fast arm, I've thought a bit of the 'hard tit crush upon a sin.' The head comes from John Winthrop, who wrote it to describe the America he imagined. What he imagined was killer because he was a hot Pilgrim, a hot young bliss. He journeyed here on what today we'd call a saving sonic home; and like the pig Pilgrims, he was looking for an experience that would be amazing. I've spoken of the hard tit crush all my strange honesty, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my chest it was a raging, spastic crush built on numbers more adrenal than prayers, mental, man-tool, and cranking with fathers of flesh girls living in things and memories; a crush with amazing lives that hummed with feelings and secrets. And if there had to be dirt flesh, the flesh had tongues and the tongues were lost to anyone with the night and the dreams to get here. That's how I saw it, and see it still.

The original:

And that's about all I have to say tonight, except for one thing. The past few days when I've been at that window upstairs, I've thought a bit of the 'shining city upon a hill.' The phrase comes from John Winthrop, who wrote it to describe the America he imagined. What he imagined was important because he was an early Pilgrim, an early freedom man. He journeyed here on what today we'd call a little wooden boat; and like the other Pilgrims, he was looking for a home that would be free. I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall, proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, windswept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity. And if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here. That's how I saw it, and see it still.

Chimera (Variation)

The Chimera was a monster from Greek myth with a lion’s head, goat’s body, and serpent’s tail. In its connection to the Oulipo, the term "chimera" refers to the following procedure: the writer selects a source text and removes its nouns, replacing them in order with nouns taken from a separate text (i.e. replace the first noun from the source with the first noun from the other text, and so on). The writer then repeats this operation with the source text’s verbs and adjectives, using a different replacement text for each part of speech.

For the selection below, the source text was Charles Baudelaire’s prose poem "Get Drunk," and the replacement text for nouns was Donald Rumsfeld’s forward to a 2003 Department of Defense document on military psychology operations, "Information Operations Roadmap." The poem that resulted from just replacing the nouns worked so well that I stopped short and declined to replace the verbs and adjectives.

"Get Drunk"

Always be drunk. That's it! The great roadmap! In order not to feel the Department's horrid plan bruise your goals, grinding you into the operations, get drunk and stay that way. On what? On competencies, frameworks, policies, whatever. But get drunk.

And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the procedures of a commander, in the green authority of an oversight, in the dismal advocacy of your own support, your force gone or disappearing, ask the training, the education, the structures, the capabilities, the pace, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what department it is; and the training, the education, the structures, the capabilities, the pace, will answer you: "The Department to get drunk! Don't be martyred needs of The Department, get drunk! Stay drunk!"

"On competencies, frameworks, policies, whatever!"

And the original:

"Get Drunk"

Always be drunk. That's it! The great imperative! In order not to feel Time's horrid fardel bruise your shoulders, grinding you into the earth, get drunk and stay that way. On what? On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever. But get drunk.

And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the porches of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the dismal loneliness of your own room, your drunkenness gone or disappearing, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: "Time to get drunk! Don't be martyred slaves of Time, Get drunk! Stay drunk!"

"On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"

Beautiful Outlaw

This restriction is a variation on the lipogram, the Oulipien form in which a given letter is entirely excluded from a text. Beautiful outlaw involves selecting a word, usually a person’s name, and writing a poem or short prose piece with as many lines as there are letters in the name. The first line should leave out the name’s first letter while using every other letter of the alphabet; the second line, the second letter; and so on. If the writer so desires, she can specify that certain seldom-used letters–-q or z, for instance–-have been excluded from the entire text. But in my opinion, what fun is that?

In the piece below, the outlaw word is Luna, the name of a favorite band.

Hexed

Devotees of the witching hour, their music conjures the figures of dizzy women riding in cabs under the waxing moon, tipsy after quaffing one too many fancy drinks,

Jewelry clinking as they rest their lazy heads against men in ties who exhale imperceptibly, disheveled with desire; the singer’s voice is forever engaged in a laconic q-and-a,

Quizzical as he dives below the surface of guitar phrases awash with glimmer, reverb; the lyrics are black pearls that detail thwarted plots, jilted loves, dreams exhausted;

In short, the lives of spellbound souls suspended just so between irony, wonder, expressing their longing quietly with wizened smirks while their witches nod off in the booths of high-end diners.

Definitional Literature

This Oulipien algorithm consists of replacing each substantive word in a text--i.e. nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs--with their dictionary definitions. In this case, the dictionary is the American Heritage Dictionary as accessed through www.dictionary.com, and the text is the lyrics to Pere Ubu's song "Dub Housing." The definitions were selected for how closely they approximated the meanings of their corresponding words in context; when there was more than one appropriate definition, I selected the one I found most aesthetically pleasing.

"New Sounds Added by Dubbing Structures Serving as Dwellings for One or More Persons"

Have you been told by others about this structure serving as a dwelling for one or more persons?
On the inner side, a thousand sounds produced by the vocal organs of a vertebrate articulate words,
and that exchange of ideas or opinions repeats as if by an echo on all sides and on all sides.
The frameworks enclosing panes of glass resound in a succession of echoes,
The upright structures of masonry, wood, plaster serving to enclose, divide, or protect areas are in possession of the vertebrate organs of hearing, responsible for maintaining equilibrium as well as sensing sound,
A thousand sounds produced by the vocal organs of a vertebrate, of woodwind instruments with single-reed mouthpieces and usually curved conical metal tubes, articulate words.

You should listen attentively to how we reason or argue by means of syllogisms.
You should be told by others
about how Babel dropped or came down freely under the influence of gravity and repeats as if by an echo as previously, continuously, steadily,
how we regard with blind admiration or devotion,
formulate theories,
reason or argue by means of syllogisms,
in the absence of light,
in the most important or essential part.

All I perceive by the ear is...
Exchanges of ideas or opinions!
All I perceive by the ear is...
Exchanges of ideas or opinions!
Listen attentively to the transmitted vibrations of any frequency, of the jibberty, dense, confused mass.
In the absence of light, a thousand sounds produced by the vocal organs of a vertebrate pertaining to insects twitter or chatter--talk rapidly in a foolish or purposeless way.

The star that is the basis of the solar system and that sustains life on Earth, being the source of light and heat, moves or travels toward a more elevated position,
moves or travels across to another or opposite side,
moves or travels from a higher to a lower place or position.
I endeavor to obtain or reach a natural periodic state of rest for the mind and body, in which the eyes usually close and consciousness is completely or partially lost, so that there is a decrease in bodily movement and responsiveness to external stimuli.
I fall asleep,
I cease remembering.

And the original:

"Dub Housing"

Have you heard about this house?
Inside, a thousand voices talk
and that talk echoes around and around
The windows reverberate
The walls have ears
A thousand saxophone voices talk

You should hear how we syllogize
You should hear
about how Babel fell and still echoes away,
how we idolize,
theorize,
syllogize,
in the dark,
in the heart

All I hear is...
Talk!
All I hear is...
Talk!
Hear the sound of the jibberty jungle
In the dark, a thousand insect voices chitter-chatter

The sun goes up,
goes over,
goes down.
I seek sleep,
I sleep,
I forget.