Arioflotga by Kuppner Frank

Author:Kuppner, Frank [Frank Kuppner]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781847778673
Publisher: Carcanet Press Ltd.
Published: 2011-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Madam, if I may say so, there is a Venus fly-trap

Madam, if I may say so, there is something very crude

Madam, if I scribbled my name upon your mother’s buttocks,

Madam, if I seemingly half-transgressed the Laws of Decorum,

Madam, if the sound of my humble cracked mouth organ

Madam, I have sometimes thought it might be very nice

Madam, the esteemed (or should I perhaps say “the steamed”?)

Madam, this is far from being the worst thing that has happened to me.

Madam, thoughts of music, cream, your hips, grass and Paradise

Madam, when at your wedding party I heard myself say, “Let’s do it now!”

Madam, when I remember how your Ming snuff boxes

Madam, when I remember how your wings

Madam, when I suspended you by your heels over that balcony,

Madam, while you and I were banging away so agreeably

Make me, oh Lord, your five and a half amp fuse,

Make no mistake. I have declared War to the Death on (Late) Capitalism.

Manly-muscled, masculine, male-marvellous, mild my Mark (O! mark! me!)

Man’s life is a sort of fart in a dream;

Many have commented on how Lenzie and La Paz

Many have commented on how Peking and La Paz

Many of the African slave-traders who converted to Islam

Maria, get out of the garden while you still can.

Matchless city! Well indeed wert thou named after Peace!

Matey, the chap thou art addressing don’t exist no more.

Maybe I talk too much? No. No. Surely not.

Maybe it was all rubbish after all?

Maybe I’ve just been meeting the wrong sort of women entirely;

Maybe the Lord God has just been imagining things.

Meeting you again on the day after we had virtually had sex, I assumed

Men are from the earth. As, indeed, are women.

Men of Oblivia! Women of Oblivia! Children of Oblivia!

Men? Men?

Mere children decide whether my works will be published or not.

Merely because a country has had a few hundred insurrections,

Merely because a great mind kills a few million people,

Merely because I have written four or five novels about adolescent youths,

Merely because I insist on being paid in dollars

Merely because I once worshipped a certain child,

Merely because of a few perhaps unguarded remarks about Jews and Africans,

Merely because she once caught me urinating into her favourite pot-plant

Merely because the machine may have exploded in mid-air,

Midnight. How many a dull and sickly member

Midnight. How many others are weeping even now in this suburb?

Might everything not in fact be something else?

Might I be allowed to tell you what to do with your Canal?

Millions have been killed by now for mistranslations.

Milton! Personally I am quite glad you’re dead.

Modigliani, James Moffat, Mohammed, Molière, Molotov, Moltke,

Mohammed, like all the rest of us, was a two-legged mammal who died

Mohammed, who many have claimed was completely illiterate,

Mohammed, who some have claimed cannot possibly have been illiterate,

Mohammed, who some have claimed might have been both literate and illiterate,

Mohammed, who some have claimed was extremely tall and noble-looking,

Montevideo! Although a highly gifted pederast once

More than anything else, I would now like to go slightly deaf.

More than forty-nine years ago, you heard it

Moses, reluctant to look directly at the woman’s backside,

Most marriages, I suspect, never actually happen.

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