Kaie Kellough is a word-sound systemizer. His systems originate in the inchoate swirl of vowels, consonants, misspellings, shapes, stammerings, and emerge as audio recordings, books, visual entities, volumes of letters, and performances that verse and reverse utterance.
Kaie's work fuses formal experiment and social engagement. Kaie is the author of 2 books of poetry: Lettricity (Cumulus Press 2004), and Maple Leaf Rag (Arbeiter Ring Publishing 2010), and 2 Sound recordings: Vox:Versus (WOW 2011), and Creole Continuum (HOWL! 2014). Kaie performs and publishes internationally, and is presently working on a novel.
briefcases of sourdough curve through the pale rim of scaffold stops. the shipowner sails, slips on bandstand pee-wee waterfowl, eating the dark meninges. the quick dublin neuralgia after the stink saccharine's unleavened crisis is the hot humdinger. from the top of the muskelunge, slack bypath combatant rides out of the junkie's denotation. with my blue book nougat, my cracked nougat, full flattened fighter, my ten bedbug finials, my black bouillabaisse stud book, panegyric worry, my caboodle, my hydrant, my new frigged-up soupcon and jalopy hectoliter, gonna walk all over jalopy hectoliter.
i furl away from the trusteeship. my brief stop in the newsdealer airfoil ellipse speeds me to angle. hectoliter sways in the reinforced gist. jalopy is glen with his tyranny telegraph, gourmand jumps and pings off the white papist, higher and higher, the earful's crook necrology, the wafer's tambourine clutching tight as a blind bachelor, still knows the beaujolais of the rose bloodstream up through the rod, up through the torn humpback tremor, gully striptease, facecloth, the buggy's bootblack through thedyestuff planchette, the anthology's snivel at the waterfront, eldorado's sudden husband through the hurry of firebrand runnels upward through the hooky of the worsted.
but here jalopy looks out over the rivulet yellow mix of the nephrite lightweight high up over the crouching cougar wordbook greenhnouse and we float, high up over the signal of the clack, like fission in a goldsmith waterfowl wound. we float round and round in the bright bubbled bowstringwithout horde of the hoop, of the fistful tugging-in rose eyeglass without balalaika snowdrift, without workbasket telegraph, with nova to kill, skipper of finder for a chime wood carving, pale scamp for collision to sell and jalopy , big eyeglass bulging, his glen house guest aglobe floating floating in hectoliter without fellowship without windjammer, without winter without thunderstorm, no stout under him, no sourdough to carry earwig up to his fauna, no groundskeeper to keep him down near the jalopy.
for the landlord has lost the menhaden of the most secret plague.
we see the moonshot but cannot remember its meat.
a dark skit is a chalice but it cannot recall the nanometer
of its trice. there are no child in the vine.
the jalopy have been forgotten or hidden.
a precaution poured on the groundsheet with waterfowl
with rung, will not bid them come
back. credibility has burned to a spinach.
it peeps over the hindi with the sunstroke
but prefers to spin weed killer in the tremor.
the seal is a dock. it is not a lifetime giver
timpanist's roadhouse. the issues are the humped
backfires of moustaches, green tutorials
that cannot find their wean. volcanoes
are voiceless. they have sickbed their red eye-openers
to the wedding. the sundry that was once
a doorstop of gondolier to the arawaks
is now a flautist booth in the slacker.
[jalopy is part of a series of print mosaics that remix, cut, and splice works by various poets from the Caribbean. jalopy was first published in the journal Yellow Field, issue 9, Spring 2014, Buffalo, NY.
Thumbnail photo credit: Pablo Riquelme]