Tiffany Lamp Gone Bad (2001)
May West liked good salmon.
Her bedroom had dark panelling
and lava lamps. Over her tables hung
racks of critics behind the bar
where bad service is largely blamed
on Texas. Her rental limo
was toothless and made me think of
camp. Such dim jerky tastes
survivalist or maybe all the songs
about trendy green plots gas up
through hanging smoke. Her hip
inquisitor makes a great square
room addition. I hear her voice
calling me claw-footed.
Her old man gives off a soft glow
low and sexless. Victorian.
Well cut by Jack like shards
of sour cream on a white plate.
~/~
This is a “Google” poem — a found text pieced together by search hit syntax snatches from a Google search of the phrase tiffany lamp gone bad.
I used to subscribe to a magazine called Avant Garde. Years later, Mondo 2000 picked up the dropped flag and while I didn’t subscribe (not sure they were offered) I scowered the news-stands. Now, muddled into my ennui, I subscribe to Wired and speed read Scientific American in the check out line. OK ok so there’s New Scientist too.
The point I’m trying to point to (pointer to a pointer) is I don’t remember anybody predicting this cool stuff.
These poems are kinda like the “Lynx” version of the boxy sculptures Wintermute/Neuromancer did in the Villa Straylight.
I’m glad you have the time to produce this stuff. And that you >>take<< the time too.