6 Poems
by Sonnet L’Abbé

Printer-friendly version




My shit, sixty percent (by biomass) of

Isn’t it interesting when you spill your guts out? My guts are hostess
to masses of feeling things: can't say god never gave me flora. Pepto
coccus, streptococcus, snuffleupagus lives down my esophagus.
How could I ever feel alone when I have one hundred trillion
friends inside me? Their miniscule eyes see in the dark. They know
bad milk and bad touches and can transform into a stun spray
of defensive puke. But let's dig deeper into this messy
intestine: hey, where's my bifidobacteria? Where's my e. coli?
Looks like someone didn't give me my oral and cutaneous
colonies, transferred through suckling, kissing and caressing.
Suckling, kissing and caressing, people: you were supposed to do it,
it's science. Nor did I come through a vaginal birth so maybe mom's feces
never took good root.  Maybe that's why my tummy says
fuck off to human things. Maybe that's why I never feel connected.











Fimbria

A flower
made of space.
The womb

sends its tendril
of openness
down, its tender

ness reaches
like a thin
river of fissure

toward the ocean
of itself,
the bloom

of spaciousness
unfolding
pink leaves,

it is the breath
speaking our pollen,
the nothing at the organ’s

origin, that is cushioned and abandoned,
cushioned and abandoned, by tides of blood. Nothing
reaches upward, too, its meristem of medial acceptance toward

the particle looking for the light, to not quite touch the launch of matter toward the moon, of what is assumed to be a peristaltic push from the fallopian tube, but to catch its Periclean fall from forces leading to ovum transport in the

oviduct. Its Michelangelean materialities cannot be measured experimentally. Their magnitudes can only be estimated. Anatomical data and physiological data are stratum of what, with biomechanical tools, it has been demonstrated. That the drag caused by fluid, set in motion by wall peristalsis, is the primary propelling force. This force may lead to back-and-forth motion, but the net movement is in a forward direction. Segmental contraction, fluid circulations due to ciliary beat and the force due to brushing action of the cilia on ovum are of minor significance. But
           
            the net movement is in the forward direction. But
                        the net movement is in the forward direction, but
                                    the net movement is in the forward direction, but           
                                                  
                                                there is a thing called ciliary beat.
                                                            A thing called
                                                                        ciliary beat.

                                                                                    Ciliary beat.
                                                                                   
                                                                                    Ciliary beat.



                                                                                    Ciliary beat.











66 Flowers

5              Fiction is in your perception
11            of the geography of the pixelated

15            plane as two-dimensional.
20            It is real and radiating,

27            It is the idiot box as long as
31            you miss the thixotropic

35            mountaineousness of the textual
39            terrain. Its irruptive quality

42            is modular, malleable.
45            The two-dimensionality

49            of the fiction interacts
54            with the eyes as a plane

61            of solar light bends onto the irises
66            rooted in the forest valley.










entretwined

           entretenu entreheld
sont les langues vertes
    de ma langue

tortionnées d’Ls
        mêmes acides
           désoxyribonucléiques

vertes elles se twistent
           dans le vent
      intercellulaire

the intercellular vent
the voice
avocal

avocal








Photosynthesis

There

 

                       no words for the way
There are no words for
                                the way
            light
                        light
            light                   light
                        light           
            light                   light
                        light
                                       light
leaves
the
page
as

leaves   the  page  as  leaves  the
        the  page
            as
                 leaves
                          the
                               leaves
                                     leaves









Affirmations

that fern logics
that orchid logics
that poppy logics
that spruce imagines

that sun in its branching
that photons in their branching
that light in its branching
that auxin in its decision

what is exchanged in the thanking
what is exchanged in the thanking
what is exchanged in the thanking
what is lost in the thanking