A thirst for the infinite. A longing for the absolute. Lautreamont banging ou sentences on the keys of a piano, the eyes of Maldoror blazing in his head. Rimbaud and his sad ecstatic synaethesia; the poet as seer in the unchaining of the senses. Christopher Smart, again, and that virtuous multi-talented cat of his, Jeoffry, the angeltiger; the two of them channeling ontological thunder from a god much holier than the usual bearded sourpusses propped up on clouds by guilty Western romantics. Leonora Carrington in her hospital prison, down below everything in this world, below rape and war, below incarcerated love, reflecting Twentieth Century hell in shards of exploded-mind - a sorceress in the underworld who heals herself and emerges triumphant and beautiful alchemist. Baudelaire and his hospital prison where the soul cries to be "Anywhere! Just as long as it is out of the world!" John Uri Lloyd's alchemical hollow earth odyssey. Michael Dean's transcendent-textual gardens and lawns. The poignant Terra erotica of Nabokov as revealed in Ada. Joyce's ultramythic polyverse and its endless recorso. Dewdney's concordant proviso ascendant. Nichol's alphabetic hagiography. The transdimensional emancipation pirates of Burroughs. Coleridge's pleasure dome. Nerval's ivory tower. A lust for freedom and ascent.
From Spiral Agitator
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