J’ai Connu Don AA l’Homme
         Qui Hocha La Langue

                           A Raymond QUENEAU

                  A Laon
Ibos et grognards de Milan
       fument le tabac blanc

                  L’an six
du royaume des Medicis
       part en eau de saucisse

boit des étangs et des lacs l’eau
       il se saoule à huit clos
                  un sage

                  Paix paix
paix pie haine nue ô paix
       Si le boulet l’épée
                  font rage

                  Oh dis
toi qui pianotes le jeudi
       faut-il qu'il soit maudit
                  notre âge

O toi, don Aa jeune homme suisse un peu malade
tu roules ta cibiche aux frais de la Pleïade
si loin d’Apollonius d’Ingres et de Mitchell
tu lisais Lichtenberg Engels Phys Rev Match Elle

J’ai toujours cru que les délices d’un magot
valaient une demi-douzaine de mégots

                  Donc rêveur étourdi
                  Lance six clopes Dis
                  Ah L’Encyclopédie.




             I Knew Don AA the Man
             Who Shook His Tongue

                           For Raymond QUENEAU

                  In Laon
Ibos and grumblers of Milano
       smoke white tobacco

                  Year six
Of the kingdom of Medicis
       went to hell in a Gucci

drinks from lakes and ponds the H2O
       gets drunk doors closed
                  a sage

                  peace peace
Peace pied naked hate oh peace
       if the ball and chain the kopis

                  Oh say
you who taps away Thursday
       must one denigrate
                  our age

O you, Don Aa the Swiss young man ill at ease
you roll your joint in the cool of the Pleiades
so far from Apollonius from Ingres and from Mitchell
you read Lichtenberg Engels Phys Rev Match Elle

I always knew that the delicacies of a mound
were worth a half dozen cigarette ends

                  So absent-minded dreamer
                     Throw six fags Say Ah


   We Will Eat Your Fingers a Little Bit

                                    For Tristan TZARA

At the party: inebriate
host, a panderer, hit:
the punk rockers riot
and irritate the griot:

Dress like a pirate,
sail an indie yacht,
eat finger food diet
with virgin Dada palate.

Marmalade made of egriot,
think your idea’s hot?
Steaming pie: pied piot,
a saucerful of patriot.

Sauce as powerful mallet
burns-your id dies out.
Convinced? You buy it?
Cast your own ballot!

Enough goth indie kids,
where’s your i.d. at?
Dancing to MIDI out
put in your pocket.

O you little maggots, light up your fag, stop smoking
shwag, you’re such a drag. Be quiet! Here come the
cypriots in the galliot piloted by Bleriot and they’ll kick
you like a cheviot with their Othello, Durrell, Stasinus,
Aphrodite, Stelarc, Halloumi, Cat and Wham!

Witness Aa’s bullet proof ballet
end six low pity ah = lance sick elope day

                                                             witty ought
                                                                study it