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      [14.8.06] [Utahna Faith]
    THREE POEMS BY ANDREI CODRESCU
    "that's why she came over / certain of my desire to do exactly that / like a lynx not a typo / but your pen - o, glitch! - flies faster over a page / of proof than buses in this town"



    photo: Andrei Thinking


    Three New Poems by Andrei Codrescu

    tzara

    Sensibility was not what spelled doom
    but rather forelocks and insouciance, palabras y cadavros,
    the toasts made ten years before in a Cocteau moment.
    What I would like is to conduct a study
    on the liberatory intensity of laughter
    using recordings from the very first chortle
    thought worth recording, a Chaplin audience or
    a child before a bicycle in the teens of the 20th century
    or an hysteric before a psychiatrist, in itself
    a milestone, laughter like smiling photographs
    having to wait decades before the cost of film
    or equipment allowed a hint of frivolity into
    the serious business of the world, furrowed brows,
    severe bosoms, modesty, concentration, lack
    of spontaneity and the plain duration necessary
    to hold a pause or to continue being tickled
    by something in the mind's eye, the moment
    in let's say 1913, when a Jewish boy fresh
    out of the ghetto of Moinesti or Czernowitz
    could laugh in a burst that concentrated and released
    centuries of repression and fear combined with a strict
    alphabet leaving no airy gaps for sprigs of springtime
    and did so on tape the cost be damned,
    recognition of something new following
    as surely uncontainable as a peasant's before
    the nude legs of a mannequin being dressed in a shop
    window by a woman whose white ankles signalled
    the death of his acquired ancestral gloom.
    That is a laugh we must recover and I'd like
    to study because we all know what followed.



    bicycle

    Touch that spoke while it spins
    at the world exhibition in paris as all
    the characters of sentimental novels
    who have fled their master's manuscripts
    with Morcol the detective of shadows
    in hot pursuit being recorded by M. Queneau
    are mounting the bicycle seat one by one
    and deciding their destinies in a fulgurant second.
    The appeal and the description by later
    exegetic apologists for the postmodern
    takes longer than we thought and besides
    nobody dares touch the spoke as the wheel
    spins not even the talented ones whose hands
    have been slapped by something we'll call
    culture or hypnosis or techno-somnolence.
    Meanwhile time flies and nobody's having fun.



    fucking metaglitch

    that's why she came over
    certain of my desire to do exactly that
    like a lynx not a typo
    but your pen - o, glitch! - flies faster over a page
    of proof than buses in this town
    so when we were shot together
    the embrace lasted longer than the book


    ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
    Andrei Codrescu is a novelist, poet, essayist and National Public Radio commentator. He writes regularly for NPR and for the Gambit Weekly in New Orleans. He is the editor of Exquisite Corpse: a Journal of Letters and Life, and is a professor of English at Louisiana State University. Andrei's most recently released book is New Orleans, Mon Amour: Twenty Years of Writings from the City. Read 3:AM's interview with Andrei here.

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