NOTHWITHSTANDING shoring, FLUMMOX by Emily Abendroth by Little Red Leaves Textile Series

NOT WITHSTANDING shoring, FLUMMOX

ÂŠEmily Abendroth 2012

LRL little red leaves textile editions www.littleredleaves.com

ÂŠEmily Abendroth 2012

LRL little red leaves textile editions www.littleredleaves.com

NOTWITHSTANDING shoring, FLUMMOX Emily Abendroth

NOTWITHSTANDING shoring, FLUMMOX

FIRST, there is the itemization: lung gong milkvetch & boxhedge a moist crease corpulent pull impulse tussle no freight is spurious the four spumes (as if foliage) That is to say “body creeping.” That is to say “incarnadine f lush.” That is to say “It’ll come to you.”

 1

The two scientists PREPARE: with splenetic disrelish grubbed topsoil a hemi-stitch the occlusal wear of every biting surface hemi-hawed to dicker by rivulet scuttlery & rust Dare we admit that often these mounds’ exhibition makes visitors complain. That “This can be done otherwise too easy.” The almost erotic delight with which they touched the weapons, the broad beans, the ear.

 2

The T WO SCIENTISTS are, at paces: normotensive clarion moans scaly moseying a cynical name for shrapnel musk-ox posthensile adding salve to their armamentaria Their discussions of falling bodies rarely elude to the presence of forces. The data is not unequivocally stable; it can be persuaded. Against the “given of experience,” pushes the “collected-only-with-difficulty.”

 3

As the two scientists WATCH: a compromised calcite housing haze canopy surrendered components soft viscous f lesh how one cannot count on impact battery (n.) and battery (v.) gesso There comes a time for redetermination gambits. Seldom or never just an increment of the already known. A shoddy gathering. The lather of contact potentials. The messy but treasured pressure exerted by light onto solids.

ď&#x201A;Ş 4

Under THE BRIGHT kiting about of lab INSTRUMENTS: scab rubble a brood patch’s bare heat cheatgrasses pliant & deportable unexpected tubes or chambers as if too cumbrous the jar that nothing can jar Repulsion is hardly the only secondary effect of suppression. One’s special competence toward corpusclarism benched. Sub-audible, come pulminating decibels. Come mop-up. Working backwa(o)rd. Torquing porous. Rousted.

 5

Via public BROADCAST, the scientists report: an excessive gist of gristles available for hijinx familiar supernuclear events seed bed of being I must guard my own crust utility in fizziness the newest conf lations of epidermal pulses geotherm mall Should flares be regarded (be itemized) as optical counter-measures? As punning? Must it accord with a stored shape? Must it accord? Just what, pray tell, is an umbral threshold? Are we holding one now? And if so, has it been breached?

ď&#x201A;Ş 6

whereupon, the henchpeople’s ZEAL did SPUTTER some

~ Daughter colony within a daughter colony pollinating but dry-docked by a rockblasted holdfast outlasted until even the crass act of shattering exhibits a riveting division of segregated labor power. From the over-bordered channel least expected to chivvy comes a guttering indigence, a dickens of a disembroilment. The specimen is heard venting: “I was in a manner they didn’t believe was dignified, but then that was the very manner by which I was. And so an aesthetic homicide seemed every bit upon the table. It was as real as cable cars or fertilizer or Kaiser Permanente or courage.”

The specimen thought, this is how important it can be to posterity to make an anomaly conform. vestigial lobe vestigial love vestigial oviduct vestigial cudgel

~ Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d like to believe that you would actually approve of this exuberant lubrication of the elements despite the enraged accusations of your nation-fearing disciples despite the stipends they were just handed in reward as good wards. But these difficulties are terrestrial, you protest, while those are marine. On the other hand, still others are steam-rolled, teeny but tenfold. They reject either cold storage or manipulative hand-holding. To appear both larger and older, their individual hairs are erected one by one, the ganglia f lame forth in sympathetic chains, the oh-so-faintly tangerine cartilage goes coastal.

horn of uterus horn of plenty horn of primordial follicles horn of choleric sheep horn of the motherland horn of scorn for others horn of our horniness horn of fester and of resist

~ It could be an unduly hard move sometimes to assign which were the zones of inhibition or auto-impingement versus which were those of open growth or co-exfoliation. What was an area encysted in muscle and what was an area insistent upon it. A hard move sometimes to separate that which soothed from the ruthless gelatinous sheath, contractile vacuole, oral groove. We had been asked once again, and politely, to please believe in the benevolent hegemon only to find, rather violently, that we could not. We might as well have refused water, the clutter of slaughterhouses, beguiling bile ducts, unctuous rivalries, or our very own trial dates with all their accompanying and premeditated punishments. Sleep deprived, we waggle danced continuously, but often less than accurately. We - the discalced, the baretushed, the squishy. We learned that as a public act the inside of your body often wants to stay inside.

By “inside” I mean, of course, “velvitized” I mean “ideological leniency” I mean “fruiting” I mean “longer than was strictly necessary” I mean “hairy and emboldened (be it with or without cause)”

~ For this audience, it is the stain that most gainfully demonstrates the fundamental features of being. We notice the pattern of greening and of blanks. We notice the soft patter at girdle view wherein the renewed application of resin is a true necessity if we are to make out anything at all. We notice the fall of tissue which gives rise to a new and oozing issuance which gives rise to prancing followed by f light. Her finances in complete arrears, she reared up at first, but then was f lattened. She shoved a quick fatty in her back pocket and ran. Such unplanned desertions do occur. They are the tradition-shattering components to tradition-bound activities. They release their infeasible call for more insubordination of the materials, of our arterials even. And such desertions do occur. They unfurl. Hurling themselves forward at midvein, midtangle, midtemper, midepidermis...

per surface area of ocean per surplus tanker of gas per pine-edged casket of talismans per samsonite duff le per cuff link per quagmire per person cuffed or bound or gagged

~ It is not defacement, she argues, to add sentiment to dulled monuments: a smock jacket called a slop, thick opulent and noisy anklets, mint negligees, a plastic rose nosegay coated in lint, plus any array of droopy caps or visors. These were the untapped motions of perturbed orbits; this was excoriation. As if a person’s irises were rising to the occasion but not the eyebrows, not the who-knows-now head. Under cover of twaddle, came a red shift, a dawdling tendership. Upon gripping my arm with obvious distress, you asked, “Would that be gigantic scintillation? Would that be ‘you must needs bolt’?” The coltish man whom we saw fanned out on a cot in the corner wasn’t a journalist nor was he particularly interested in the measure of his basal metabolism. And yet this figure was recorded for him anyway and daily, via extraction. At the same time, safety brackets were drawn in hatchmarks around those visceral masses that acted like jaws, around a predatory intestine, a future anus, a grainy resuscitator, a mandibular stowaway.

removed to show removed to hide removed to override hesitation removed to destroy removed with all the fascination of a bonafide voyeur

~ Such messy gurgitations were less than completely precedented. What had previously been only a simple hex or a vexation was now a source of crisis. For instance, our unlicensed debuts straight into the heart of their urban renewal. If cutlery could be a bedding, they were headed there — the torturous perforations of false ledges and unregistered privilege. They spoke incredulously, as if the existence of a single girl tractorist could somehow wholly refactor it. As if one visibly effeminate tyrant could set all the elements cantering. As if the cant and bravado of a formerly dead broke bloke who was now a global CEO was proof of both the bestowal of access and the ladder alike. This was the trickery of parataxis, the charade of proximity as pure equivalency. While all the while a more profound disemboweling was uniformly scowled upon by the administrators. While all the while everyone else remained a ringer, remained involuntarily in the ring and subject to fingering — the bothertheless.

The woman looked aggressively up at the sky and suddenly couldn’t configure: “Is it a full moon everywhere right now?” In her rigor, she couldn’t stop repeating, “Not in the least. “Not in the least. “Not in the least.”

~ The oscillating movements of the filaments were what gave it its name but it was something else that gave it its swagger, its meager salary, its fishbowl of smokeable swag, its bedraggled potential to clog or to glom up or to cup in the thighs or to batten. In other words, while outside the thin window France might fall, Eddy didn’t fall. Although the stocks collapsed, Tynisha remained inf lated. Elated even. New Zealand was at war, but Hector and Lisa weren’t. Or at least not the same one, with neither the same guns nor the same punishing run for your money. And this is part of what it meant to be in a place but not of it, to be coveted for allegiance to statehood whilst living in the hood or roaming the rural backwoods. These were the kind of tassles that were first manufactured, then offered to you as a satiating “award” when wrastling was cordoned off as out of the question. A piece of embossed stationary in your ashtray, a ration that you carried as required but weren’t married to either. A boomerang form.

Cannot a rude jostle offer in secret a small loftiness? How often can it?, you ask. What are the preconditions for dissident action? Is it eff luvium? subfroth intrafroth exofrothfest

~ We fell for what were surely fake documents and human stand-ins who withstood tightly choreographed hoodings and beatings before our eyes. From behind gill bars and slits, leaked lipid droplets begetting a pestering tension of the back and shoulders, an adroit overexposure. The stand-ins themselves expressed confusion at their all too real hospitalizations which more than occasionally followed the volatile simulations to which they were subjected. It was an object lesson not in what the prisoner goes through, but in what the soldier understands him or herself to be doing. It was a strange and grueling mix of determinist assumptions and avuncular concessions of equality. “The danger doesn’t have to be real,” she said “to instill discomfort.” A fort doesn’t have to be drill-worthy to kill those who encroach upon it.

mock ticket mock cattle prods mock battlefield mock talkative mock lock-ups mock balkanization mock personhood mock could

~~~~~~~ From the caribous and the roosters, the child learned: a nose-puckering sniffing of winds coded signals via palpitations of the feet and scalp great galloping speed to cluck for luck, as well as at muckrakers delousing with tree bark the stark pleasures of slow mastication From the humans, the child learned: cartwheels excreta containment standing position expressive mobility of the eyes and shoulders old school free-basing phase 2 finance theory

From indeterminable sources, the child developed: a penchant for huckleberries sleeping in a ball adoration of taupe ovular dove-tailing in traffic and in lines a fine high-pitched squeal Everywhere the child went, the child learned and burned learned and burned learned and burned learned and burned.

~~~~~~~

Emily Abendroth is a writer and artist currently residing in Philadelphia, where she co-curates the Moles Not Molar Reading & Performance Series. Her print publications include: Exclosures {#1-8} from Albion Press; 3 Exclosures, forthcoming from Zumbar Press; Toward Eadward Forward from Horse Less Press; Property : None / Property : Undone, a broadside and multi-media collaboration with TapRoot Editions; and an extended excerpt from the book-length work-in-progress “Muzzle Blast Dander” in Refuge/ Refugee (Vol 3 of the ChainLinks book series). Additional work of hers can be found in Digital Artifact, Encyclopedia, How2, Jacket 2, Pocket Myths, horse less review, Eco-poetics, Never on Time, and Cut & Paint. She is currently and ever-so-slowly piecing her way through some writings and thinking on solitary confinement practices in U.S. prisons. This little red leaves textile series chapbook was designed and sewn by Dawn Pendergast in Houston, Texas.