XVIII. Avoir le coeur [bien accroché]
Ringing silvereyes, of quartzite—Beyond being completely ignorant of sheer
Drop-offs skimming the Pacific plate—Agape clerics at their coronas
Of porpoise teeth, where instead they conveyed feral livestock and the pox
To the devil’s children; a network of hemorrhaging lesions turns the whites of their eyes
Black—Somewhere, I read of a surfeit of flesh, borne by a thief sent to Van Diemen’s Land
For six pairs of shoes (1822), and what followed in floggings for escape provisions—Isabel’s
Mute testimony is the guitar—On fresh broadsides, of runaways, if recaptured, worth more than any of the others; there is a hollow-bodied refrain of Isabel’s
Possibly, of our parents, of such deprivations—Packed as salt cod below decks, the San Dominick (1799) shears
The reef lines, with its figurehead occulted; woolen, but for the shipworm's intaglio—For some empty x denoted our contempt for such land
To call upon the Ethiopian king Memnon, whose ranging dawn lashes around this ventifact—As the porteños implored a woman for winds, the corona
Navalis awarded to Captain Delano is a quarterdeck of scurvied mates among sacks of Paraguay tea—The other vessel was infected with smallpox
Long sunken with all souls on board at the port of Ndar—Unless slaughter of the Spaniards except Cerreño be regarded as an act of barbarism, our eyes
Retraced the 14th night Gabriel transpired the Moon’s water into a rille—Un fulmine a ciel sereno partaken by European eyes,
Before The Hypocrisy of American Slavery (July 4, 1852)—Importation of the Serpent Mindye into Port Arthur, named after the Lieutenant Governor; Isabel
Listens impassively, as the last surviving of an extinguished clan, with the same black shadow, bespeaking confluent smallpox,
To seed or singe it, with her hair—Withholding the migrant’s mortification, her lectures are devoid of meridians, where the shearwater’s
Single white egg plummeted somewhere between Alaska and Van Diemen’s Land—
The patterned ground of the Tasman peninsula overtaken, the axe rounded from splitting roots, and planted in the coronal
Suture of the snakebite victim; the fatal sickness of the fugitives induces an unquenchable thirst—As the coronal
Righteousness north of the Vaal (1852), after the Battle of Blood River (16 December 1838)—A vastly overwritten eye
Every night when the curtain falls, truth comes in with darkness (1856)—Reviews filtering in, after landing
In New York (1851), Pierre; correcting galleys of supplementary Leviathan amours, recollects the plate glass building in Hyde Park for The Whale—The fictive Isabel
Unconsciously engaged—The Crystal Palace in Bryant Park (14 July 1853), the only wood used for floors, doors, and window sashes, catches fire (1858)—Smallpox
Arrives in the Port of Honolulu on the Charles Mallory; in Great Britain, there is compulsory vaccination—The sheer
Grunt-work of dismembering a still living whale—Barred equivalences of his mates dragging Travers on his gangrenous leg; the sheer
Forwardness of cannibalism, on June 20, 1824, when the cannibal stood trial for murder, whose inexperience of tracking constellations; the Corona Australis Ptolemy mapped; much less the father to reveal baiting traps, remains silent—Let the ambiguous procession of events, as smallpox
Particles dispersed from the charity hospitals, or from the docks, where the accused stands, eye
Their own ambiguousness—What Melville thought of Abel Tasman, the Vortrekkers departing from a flooded land
Carving up parcels; he in embryo, foreknew, through the erected pillories of his descendants—He would gaze upon his father’s flesh, in Isabel—
On their initial night in Manhattan, streets break out into a near-riot coherent to the formation of the Second Republic (1848)—Isabel,
Ringing silvereyes, of quartzite—Beyond being completely ignorant of sheer
Drop-offs skimming the Pacific plate—Agape clerics at their coronas
Of porpoise teeth, where instead they conveyed feral livestock and the pox
To the devil’s children; a network of hemorrhaging lesions turns the whites of their eyes
Black—Somewhere, I read of a surfeit of flesh, borne by a thief sent to Van Diemen’s Land
For six pairs of shoes (1822), and what followed in floggings for escape provisions—Isabel’s
Mute testimony is the guitar—On fresh broadsides, of runaways, if recaptured, worth more than any of the others; there is a hollow-bodied refrain of Isabel’s
Possibly, of our parents, of such deprivations—Packed as salt cod below decks, the San Dominick (1799) shears
The reef lines, with its figurehead occulted; woolen, but for the shipworm's intaglio—For some empty x denoted our contempt for such land
To call upon the Ethiopian king Memnon, whose ranging dawn lashes around this ventifact—As the porteños implored a woman for winds, the corona
Navalis awarded to Captain Delano is a quarterdeck of scurvied mates among sacks of Paraguay tea—The other vessel was infected with smallpox
Long sunken with all souls on board at the port of Ndar—Unless slaughter of the Spaniards except Cerreño be regarded as an act of barbarism, our eyes
Retraced the 14th night Gabriel transpired the Moon’s water into a rille—Un fulmine a ciel sereno partaken by European eyes,
Before The Hypocrisy of American Slavery (July 4, 1852)—Importation of the Serpent Mindye into Port Arthur, named after the Lieutenant Governor; Isabel
Listens impassively, as the last surviving of an extinguished clan, with the same black shadow, bespeaking confluent smallpox,
To seed or singe it, with her hair—Withholding the migrant’s mortification, her lectures are devoid of meridians, where the shearwater’s
Single white egg plummeted somewhere between Alaska and Van Diemen’s Land—
The patterned ground of the Tasman peninsula overtaken, the axe rounded from splitting roots, and planted in the coronal
Suture of the snakebite victim; the fatal sickness of the fugitives induces an unquenchable thirst—As the coronal
Righteousness north of the Vaal (1852), after the Battle of Blood River (16 December 1838)—A vastly overwritten eye
Every night when the curtain falls, truth comes in with darkness (1856)—Reviews filtering in, after landing
In New York (1851), Pierre; correcting galleys of supplementary Leviathan amours, recollects the plate glass building in Hyde Park for The Whale—The fictive Isabel
Unconsciously engaged—The Crystal Palace in Bryant Park (14 July 1853), the only wood used for floors, doors, and window sashes, catches fire (1858)—Smallpox
Arrives in the Port of Honolulu on the Charles Mallory; in Great Britain, there is compulsory vaccination—The sheer
Grunt-work of dismembering a still living whale—Barred equivalences of his mates dragging Travers on his gangrenous leg; the sheer
Forwardness of cannibalism, on June 20, 1824, when the cannibal stood trial for murder, whose inexperience of tracking constellations; the Corona Australis Ptolemy mapped; much less the father to reveal baiting traps, remains silent—Let the ambiguous procession of events, as smallpox
Particles dispersed from the charity hospitals, or from the docks, where the accused stands, eye
Their own ambiguousness—What Melville thought of Abel Tasman, the Vortrekkers departing from a flooded land
Carving up parcels; he in embryo, foreknew, through the erected pillories of his descendants—He would gaze upon his father’s flesh, in Isabel—
On their initial night in Manhattan, streets break out into a near-riot coherent to the formation of the Second Republic (1848)—Isabel,
The
Jarndyce's ward of Bleak House (1852-1853); so many visited sins of a parent,
and its replicated news items sheared—
Until
someone barges in, to keep the inkwell from icing—What headlands
Of this
reading as a security detail; America’s first satellite reconnaissance
(1960-1972), or Corona,
For the
symmetry of nuclear nations—Confirmation of archeological sites and terrain
lost to desertification; pock-marked
Accesses
from improvised explosives—Of the Transcendentalist sham that the covenant
stands, of changing eyes
Be collected. No more amazement ; (I.ii.13-14)—Maps and their jarring impulses
besmirch our eyes, as the stand-ins for a vanishing point, dark Isabel—
Dreams upturn
molded coronas, deforming ambitions, and waft through a door in Pierre’s room
opposite the window of Pierre—The land
Propounded in
images; here we tack back to drawing to salvage an estimate, which obliges the lacquer
of our breath all over again a sheerness of their pocked inscriptions—
2 comments:
V. Avoir le coeur net
Chet. Nous nous pencherons [surtout avec le coeur net]
Exercise 91.
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