Mina Loy - Songs to Joannes

Edward J. O'Brien

OTHERS Songs

to

Joannes

BY Mina

Loy

A P R I L , 1917 Vol. 3, No. 6

Published by OTHERS FRANK

SHAY, Agent, 17 West 8th Street, New York City E. R. BROWN,

Price 15 Cents

Boston Agent, Cornhill 12 Issues, $1.50

MINA

LOY

I Spawn

of

Fantasies

S i l t i n g the appraisable P i g Cupid

his rosy snout

R o o t i n g erotic garbage "Once upon a time" Pulls a weed

white and star-topped

A m o n g wild oats I would

an

sewn in mucous-membrane

eye i n a bengal light

E t e r n i t y in a sky-rocket Constellations in an ocean Whose rivers run no fresher T h a n a trickle of saliva These

are suspect places

I must live in my lantern T r i m m i n g subliminal flicker Virginal

to the bellows

Of Experience Coloured

glass

II T h e skin-sack I n which a wanton duality Packed All the completions of my infructuous impulses Something the shape of a man

3

4 MINA

LOY

T o the casual v u l g a r i t y of the merely

observant

M o r e of a clock-work mechanism R u n n i n g down against time T o which I am not paced My

finger-tips

are numb from fretting your hair

A God's door-mat On the threshold of your mind

III W e might have coupled In the bed-ridden monopoly of a moment Or broken flesh with one another A t the profane communion table Where wine is spill't on promiscuous lips W e might have given b i r t h to a butterfly W i t h the daily-news P r i n t e d in blood on its wings IV Once in a mezzanino The starry ceiling Vaulted an unimaginable family B i r d - l i k e abortions W i t h human throats A n d Wisdom's eyes W h o wore lamp-shade red dresses A n d woolen hair

MINA

LOY

One bore a baby I n a padded

porte-enfant

T i e d with a sarsanet ribbon T o her goose's wings B u t for the abominable shadows I would have lived A m o n g their fearful furniture T o teach them to tell me their secrets Before I guessed —Sweeping the brood clean out

V M i d n i g h t empties the street Of a l l but us Three I am undecided which way back T o the left a boy —One wing has been washed i n the r a i n The other will never be clean any more— P u l l i n g door-bells to remind Those that are snug T o the right a haloed ascetic T h r e a d i n g houses Probes wounds for souls — T h e poor can't wash in hot water— A n d I dont know which t u r n i n g to take Since you got home to yourself—first

5

6 MINA

LOY

VI I know the W i r e - P u l l e r intimately A n d i f it were not for the people On whom you keep one eye Y o u could look straight at me A n d Time would be set back

VII M y p a i r of feet Smack the

flag-stones

T h a t are something left over from your walking The wind stuffs the scum of the white street Into my lungs and my nostrils E x h i l a r a t e d birds Prolonging flight into the night Never reaching — — — — — — —

VIII I am the jealous store-house of the candle-ends T h a t l i t your adolescent Behind God's eyes There might Be other lights

learning

MINA

LOY

IX W h e n we lifted Our eye-lids on Love A cosmos Of coloured voices A n d laughing honey And

spermatazoa

A t the core of N o t h i n g I n the milk of the M o o n

X Shuttle-cock and battle-door A little pink-love A n d feathers are strewn

XI Dear one

at your mercy

Our Universe Is only A colorless onion Y o u dérobe Sheath by sheath Remaining A disheartening odour About your nervy hands

7

8 MINA

LOY

XII Voices break on the confines of passion Desire

Suspicion

Man

Woman

Solve in the humid carnage Flesh from flesh D r a w s the inseparable delight K i s s i n g at gasps

to catch it

Is it true T h a t I have set you a p a r t Inviolate in an utter crystallization Of all

the j o l t i n g of the crowd

T a u g h t me willingly to live to share Or are you Only the other half Of an ego's necessity Scourging pride with compassion T o the shallow sound of dissonance A n d boom of escaping breath

MINA

LOY

9

XIII Come to me

There is something

I have got to tell you

and I can't tell

Something taking shape Something that has a new name A new dimension A new use A new illusion It is ambient Something shiny

A n d it is in your eyes Something only for you Something that I must not see

I t is in my ears Something very resonant Something that you must not hear Something only for me L e t us be very jealous V e r y suspicious V e r y conservative V e r y cruel Or we might make an end of the j o s t l i n g of aspira­ tions Disorb inviolate egos Where two or three are welded together T h e y shall become god Oh that's right Keep away from me Please give me a push D o n ' t let me understand you D o n ' t realise me

10 M I N A L O Y

Or we might tumble together Depersonalized Identical Into the terrific N i r v a n a M e you — you — me

XIV Today Everlasting

passing

apparent

imperceptible

T o you I b r i n g the nascent v i r g i n i t y of —Myself

for the moment

N o love

or the other t h i n g

Only the impact of lighted bodies K n o c k i n g sparks off each other I n chaos XV Seldom

T r y i n g for Love

F a n t a s y dealt them out as gods T w o or three men

looked only human

B u t you alone Superhuman

apparently

I had to be caught in the weak eddy Of your drivelling humanity T o love you most

MINA

LOY

11

XVI W e might have lived together In the lights of the A r n o Or gone apple stealing under the sea Or played H i d e and seek in love and cob-webs A n d a lullaby on a tin-pan And talked t i l l there were no more tongues T o talk with A n d never have known any better XVII I don't care Where the legs of the legs of the furniture are walk­ ing to Or what is hidden i n the shadows they stride Or what would look at me If the shutters were not shut Red

a warm colour on the battle-field

H e a v y on my knees as a counterpane Count counter I counted

the fringe of the towel

T i l l two tassels clinging together L e t the square room fall away F r o m a round vacuum D i l a t i n g with my breath XVIII Out of the severing Of hill from hill

12 M I N A L O Y

T h e interim Of star from star The nascent Static Of night N o t h i n g so conserving A s cool cleaving Note of the Q H U Clear carving Breath-giving Pollen smelling Space W h i t e telling Of slaking Drinkable T h r o u g h fingers R u n n i n g water Grass haulms Grow to L e a d i n g astray Of fireflies A e r i a l quadrille Bouncing Off one another A g a i n conjoining I n recaptured pulses Of light

XIX

MINA

LOY

Y o u too H a d something A t that time Of a green-lit glow-worm Y e t slowly drenched T o raylessness In rain X X L e t J o y go solace-winged T o flutter whom she may concern

XXI I store up nights against y o u H e a v y with shut-flower's nightmares Stack noons Curled to the solitaire Core of the Sun XXII Green things grow Salads For the cerebral Forager's revival

13

14 M I N A L O Y

U p o n bossed bellies Of mountains R o l l i n g i n the sun A n d flowered flummery Breaks T o my silly shoes I n ways without you I go Gracelessly A s things go XXIII L a u g h t e r i n solution Stars in a stare Irredeemable pledges Of pubescent consummations Rot T o the recurrent moon Bleach T o the pure white Wickedness of p a i n XXIV The procreative t r u t h of M e Petered out In pestilent T e a r drops L i t t l e lusts and lucidities A n d prayerful lies

MINA

LOY

Muddled with the heinous acerbity Of your street-corner smile XXV L i c k i n g the A r n o The little rosy Tongue of D a w n Interferes with our eyelashes W e twiddle to i t Round and round Faster A n d t u r n into machines T i l l the sun Subsides i n shining Melts some of us Into abysmal pigeon-holes Passion has bored In warmth Some few of us Grow to the level of cool plains C u t t i n g our foot-hold W i t h steel eyes XXVI Shedding our petty pruderies F r o m slit eyes

15

16 M I N A L O Y

W e sidle up T o Nature — — — that irate pornographist

XXVII Nucleus

Nothing

Inconceivable concept Insentient repose The hands of races D r o p off from Immodifiable plastic T h e contents Of our ephemeral conjunction I n aloofness from M u c h Flowed to approachment of — — — — NOTHING There was a man and a woman In the way While the Irresolvable Rubbed with our daily deaths Impossible eyes XXVIII The steps go up for ever A n d they are white A n d the first step Forever

is the last white

MINA

Coloured

LOY

conclusions

Smelt to synthetic Whiteness Of my Emergence A n d I am burnt quite white I n the climacteric W i t h d r a w a l of your sun A n d wills and words a l l white Suffuse Illimitable monotone White

where there is nothing to see

B u t a white towel Wipes the cymophonous sweat — M i s t rise of l i v i n g — F r o m your Etiolate body A n d the white dawn Of your

New D a y

Shuts down on me Unthinkable

that white over there

— — — Is smoke from your house

XXIX Evolution

fall foul of

Sexual equality P r e t t i l y miscalculate Similitude

17

18 M I N A L O Y

U n n a t u r a l selection Breed such sons and daughters A s shall jibber at each other Uninterpretable cryptonyms Under the moon Give them some way of b r a y i n g brassily F o r carressive calling O r to homophonous hiccoughs Transpose the laugh L e t them suppose that tears A r e snowdrops or molasses O r anything T h a n human insufficiencies Begging dorsal vertebrae L e t meeting be the t u r n i n g T o the antipodean And Form

a blurr

Anything T h a n seduce them T o the one A s simple satisfaction F o r the other L e t them clash together F r o m their incognitoes I n seismic orgasm

MINA

F o r far

LOY

further

Differentiation R a t h e r than watch Own-self distortion Wince i n the alien ego X X X In some P r e n a t a l plagiarism Foetal buffoons Caught tricks

F r o m a r c h i t y p a l pantomime S t r i n g i n g emotions Looped aloft

F o r the blind eyes T h a t N a t u r e knows us with A n d the most of N a t u r e

is green

W h a t guaranty F o r the proto-form W e fumble Our souvenir ethics to ——————— XXXI Crucifixion Of a busy-body

19

20 M I N A

LOY

L o n g i n g to interfere so W i t h the intimacies Of your insolent isolation Crucifixion Of an illegal ego's Eclosion On your equilibrium Caryatid

of an idea

Crucifixion W r a c k e d arms Index extremities In vacuum T o the unbroken fall XXXII T h e moon is cold Joannes Where the Mediterranean————— XXXIII T h e p r i g of passion———— T o your professorial paucity Proto-plasm was r a v i n g mad E v o l v i n g us——— XXXIV Love — — — the preeminent

literateur