To Recoup Evasively Unconscious

M. S. Strickland
A yazdehanity of incipient textwork
Tulpuyauor (Port Uluyau (Tlaour Yuˀup)), Tixpu (Agua Prieta), Gertrude, Beulah | 1974–1984
First published 1996 | Book Map |

Chanting the incipient textwork enfettered by, with, to, and for its author M. S. Strickland, textworker, via the coupling of the elegiac yang of his patriline with the elitist yin of his matriline during the zoopraxiscopic, pantomimetic, and archaeo-ammine raison d’être emanating from its author’s, that is, M. S. Strickland’s circumambient automatisms and tragicomic traumatisms accessed under and by all means of various species of earthy augury involving sultry areo- and asterocentric conjunctivisms on the one hand, and suggestive schism and exile of and from his lares familiares de Tulpuyauor on the other during the dulcet cusp of his eleventh year which would secrete him snugly in a distaff “place of dreams unbroken” in Gertrude en WY while concomitantly thrusting him precariously into a lanceolate landscape of impassive men “on high” in the Aristonian Woiwodeship of North Texas between and within the mental medoid of which he would have to undertake, on the one hand, the disjointed migratory prospectus of, and, on the other, the fungible desertion of, thus perhaps (in)effectually sashaying the Proustian swag of textual sodomy and the hymeneal heft of authorial impregnation, all the while bridling with tansy-phasic quill-thews and surging with the vellophilic vinagaroons of ink-splotched incoherence whose sororal stilettos in the schizomythic albedo of the textworker’s chirographic bliss clitalyze transvestism’s vengeance into the intestinal necessity of the fustianist’s sere art and the girlish ambivalence de l’affilée rigmaroliste’s gibbeted ludict par delà the truth-defying inflammation of which textwork is more than able to disbelieve or disburden itself of, as its author’s “yazdehanity of incipient textwork,” To Recoup Evasively Unconscious, purports to adaptably admit, “since said deliciously texticulating southpaw produced the following wörterisches Nachleben of the long since destroyed incipit of what my delirious and redolently ichor-drenched mano diestra must have deemed a supreme fiction, viz.: ‘Nadir approaches zenith. Out of the distance crawl the new Gods, insouciant...’”