footnote: An experience of objective chance.

"curiouser and curiouser"

The night before I took the pictures above I was looking on Robber Bridegroom, a London surrealist site, at the picture here.


It was in my mind as I fell asleep, and for several periods during the following day I pondered the object. In the evening I decided to take photos outside just one store, which seemed to have curious stuff in its window. Then I saw the man-with-a-hammer (?) on the store's door, took that and glanced down at the foot of the door. I was very startled because of course the main object in my head, from London, had just reappeared, at my feet, here in Seattle. But smashed up. There was nothing else at all on the floor, just them. Those are the three pics I took, in order. You see from the last one, that I moved them on an urge, and later at home, looking, I felt I had maybe been trying to connect them to make a fish...
Leaving, I saw the wildness coming out of the chopped tree ten feet from the store. of course, by then, i felt so alert and alive...
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(... Robber Bridegroom is a site of the Surrealist London Action Group, and they are all over surrealism, not as a museum relic but as a real thing now. you can find them at robberbridegroom.blogspot.com

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All the soldiers with their faces blown off

Because it midnight is I left her, in a car made of milk. She was drunkenly pushing ferns into the ears of small boys. (And the faces at the dirty window, of all the people I've hurt.) I entered the convent. It was made of rats' skins. I crushed 12 bishops there with my left hand, for I had fallen in love with a horse. I stole a dozen eggs for him. His coat was of meadowgrass. Then I turned and saw my father rolling down a hill, into darkness. Night is a boney ear. How thin the lake's door is, my parking-lot, my sweet savage. He said, Milk being dust, is an orange, is an all-night radio. I said, Captain, I will squeeze through, always.

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