Arpine Konyalian Grenier prose poem: Ever Feral and Chiral, the Howl

  Ever Feral and Chiral, the Howl

  a prose poem by

  Arpine Konyalian Grenier

Presented at the European Beat Studies Conference
Université Libre de Bruxelles, 2015

The Beat Generation’s howl, over time, has crystallized the burn / slam / want predicament of the human — another mind, another smile, made and unmade cause on the road, spending itself to the rhythm of a caravan, feral and chiral the moves. (Callow predicament resisting incarnations for l’avenir.) Could such prowl be fungible? We’ll establish count then parse as nature and its travails dauntlessly deliver nuance, agency and beneficiaries to this self-organizing system — synthetic, dynamic and vocal, its dance.

You and me and the howl, and a string of unsuspected questions we rehearse ave to ave, having anonymously served the right side and the left side of an equation, the invisible sides dimmer and dimmer a developing act. Shared language behind attitude and rites chronicles negotiation to otiation tendered platforms. Both source and filters are necessary as we explore vagaries bypassing socio-political norms, as thrills and chills land us at the shores of an aesthetic resisting skewered semantics like a pillar of salt by pollsters and technocrats. Its narrative is historically, culturally and personally invaluable. It delivers no product but a fullness pushing forward, we breathing otherly under the vibration of meaning, seeding and feeding golem hearts to alabaster skin. Tendencies are of merit here, force to form merging pathways as the brilliance of diamond salutes the novelty of graphene, stroked by angels and mattered.

The unconscious expands. It is bruised matter, often cut, scratched, nicked or notched perhaps, but never severed. It is contemplation, with which the earth of languages meets the language of planet Earth over a contingent road. On this road, nature invades ideology at lament and rebellion, the entropic and the kinetic in aleatoric embrace, translating and illuminating without informing, working equality and difference.

Dance to song after a recasting of the beat, to make peace with action-based terminologies, as if. While duct (less voice) is memory, voice (less the duct) is howl ave chasing itself. What literally matters is the import of the energy it exudes as it turns against language with language to restore its incantatory quality; as it forces text to relinquish its own from deep inside, not from the throat. Forget cashing in on equality slogans trapped between the mimetic and the diegetic, capture voice — voices, shared language behind attitude and rites.

Interstitial fault lines deliver remnant, ruin, relic. We’ll start from somewhere between ecology and politics where a hotbed of sheer sound translated from mad dogs is thinking clearly. Thinking beats for syntax from a semantics that never sets, that escapes the elitist, the insular.

Something about the subtle connection between breath and the caravan and the public space they occupy is both redemptive and problematic. Exploring the nature of this connection and space, I come across a place of spacelessness. Perhaps that’s home — mere encounter, closure and enclosure liberating the word, ontological differences abolished. Irreducible divergence redeeming foundation for a civil society intellect alone cannot provide. Inaccessibility the tear, the crack I pucker and festina lente along. The road settles. We must not survive language, I say. Metaphor is a scattering of words. Heavy ion collisions generate flow. Like a bacterium welcoming code it lacks, I’ll howl in vagueness, mimic size, shape, color for history and tradition, for primary verbs human lack plays into.

Ocean floors regenerate; we and the rest of the world do too. The accelerated inimitable daily diminishing impedance while the I — utility prompted reason to passion drift — turns and bends. Rock to stone armor, earth spot to dot vigilance wishing you wishing me.