Here Comes The Cactus!


Message for you! I have always strongly sympathized with Breton’s very first surrealist experience: the sudden gift, as one is drifting off to sleep, of a hypnagogic phrase. For Breton it was “a man cut in half by the window”. It came to him one night, as mine come to me, fully formed, clear and distinct, and verbal rather than a full image. A hybrid concoction of mythological genesis and Cartesian certainty. Actually, I find that they usually have an imperative character that tends to suggest an exclamation point. For me this phenomenon occurs so regularly and clearly that I found I could actually record a solid set of them before finally succumbing to sleep. Why jump right to conscious automatism, when this method could also be mined? I tried to explicitly “write a poem” in this way, using the phrases that arrived totally unbidden before falling asleep.

Here Comes The Cactus!

Man-Thing looks like 10:30…

Here comes the cactus!

Let’s say, plenty!

The issue, is there change yet?

That’s the issue about being rugby.

Right now dancing, because I wanna go… play!

Head’s up! Cause I thought your others didn’t doubt ya.

You should always bounce in and you’re Greg.

Giant rocks and a searching squirrel? Nay.

I’m going to help you babe, the message cleared to me.

(JA, August 3 2017 from 10:30-10:48 pm)

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