miércoles, octubre 01, 2008

New Poetry From c.a. leibow

Machina Ad Hominem

“What do I see? Hats and coats that cover ghosts or simulated human beings which move by springs.”


“…by its very nature clockwork is the antithesis of our mortal
selves. "    Jaquet-Droz

The Watchmaker              Machines time.
Dentist of brass teeth.      Revolutions.      Masticated movements.

(Mapping the linear_____      geography of a Flat

Mechanical Cockcrow sequencing.
The interpreter of flesh clocks.
An object unto itself.                  Out of time.
A counter of Ether - measuring Zero

Cyclopeds chase one another in the figure eight cyclodrome dome of heaven.
The gods lost to history cheer with    Click(s)

The customer wants (“the minutes
the watch has lost?”) because of the leak                  the gold case.
the red ink spent .

Bent over.                  Eye glass.                  The Watchmaker
is a Trapper tightening springs.

Hour by hour.


“Without Vaucanson’s shitting duck, there would be nothing to remind us of the glory of France.”    Voltaire

Immodest marriage of science and art.
Gold plated copper.      Articulation of wing
fulfilling each their Office

{Of          Omoplat,      Scapula,      Cubitius,      Humerus    &      Ginglymus}.

Tendons of wound wire
spring movement of ball bearing and socket.

Just imitation of duck.
Circumvolution of pipes.
Inefficiency of efficiency. Projection. Identification.
Muddling water.
Quack, Rise, Gulp.      Consumes.

Artifice. Delineation of life.
                                                  Interloper into divine prerogative.
Metal duck.          Golem.
     Inculcation of man as machine.

From meandering pipes to
the lowly anus.

     Golden creature.
One act play-          Title: Uncertainty          ?

Final Scene:
                                         Out of golden tail- efflux of excrement.

                                                     [ A standing (Ovation).]


Exquisite machine: Silver tongue hypothesis.

Who stole the statue sculpted by Coysevox?


To: The Inquisition          Re: Automaton Flute Player
“In room 11 (STOP), Be advised (STOP)…….bothersome breathing..(STOP).”


“Wood fingers cannot play a metal flute the way a man or woman can..”
                                                                     Journal Entry, Vaucanson. Aug, 17th 1737

(See Fig.1,2 &3)

fig 1., Apply skin to wood. (Credit of Corpses ).

fig 2., Side View: Screws, Pivots, Barrels, Bars, Heart; connected to gates of heaven.

fig 3. Exploded View: Nine bellows, three pipes under the garden into the Temple of Music.
Trachea.              Six pulleys.             Four levers to modify wind.              {The Four Winds of The Apocalypse}.

“I found a metronome in the chest of a Starling .”
                                                                     Journal Entry., Vaucanson. Jan, 23rd 1736

All the women          (Paris Februarys 11th 1738 )          would gather in their complicated dresses.

A repertoire of twelve          {Apostles, Tribes, Constellations.}          Flute Numbers.

Their parasols twirling.          Flywheel,          Windmill,          Crank & Counterweight.

Inquisitors on tip toes try to see

through dark windows that face the alley.          {of Hotel De Albertus Magnus and the Cathedral of Aquinas .}


“Shall not one be cast down by the sight of him? None is so fierce that that dare stir him up.”    Job 42:9-10

Mechanical leviathans built by
royal Clockmakers.
run on tracks at the edge
of a flat earth.

Prefabricated elucidation
of the artisan’s pencil-    charcoal detritus from
fire to fire.    Wayward sailors
pray                  {recurring nightmares of flailing }.

The lone wake signifies dismay
Stygian darkness of fathoms, split bone terrors.
Supplicating saints and gods and superstitions.

Two men stoke the fires.
Pneumatic obligation of steam.
Of concentration, direction
and release.          Transmission of energy to purpose.

The mad dash of sail.

Indentured men dream of falling
where the cartographer sketches
gaping mouths.


“ What a shame the mechanician stopped so soon, when he could have gone ahead and given his machine a soul!”    Condorcet

Oh daughter,
daughter flesh of my frenzied longing.

         Work of my hands clank and whir          of my affections.

The blasphemy of my want.          Iron ram caught in the thicket
I lay            you on the altar          {of the sea floor.}              My imprudence.

In darkness - rocking on tides.
                                                                 Oh pendulum.


“Man is a self-winding machine, a living representation of perpetual motion.”    La Mettrie

Innocent machines.              Faithful objects.              Geared mythologies.

In which              mechanical archangels grant dispensations from time -

Theirs is an eschatology              of revolutions.

                                                 Inherent:      The Circle.

c.a. leibow's poems have appeared in Barrow Street, Interim, Juked.com, Poetry Motel, Stray Dog Review and other journals. He graduated from Antioch with a Masters Degree in Poetry. To fund his poetry, leibow has worked as a dishwasher, a shoes salesman, a driver, a security guard, a bouncer, a mental institution orderly, a file clerk, a shipping clerk, and corporate trainer.