Tristan Tzara Car Salesman

He was a buyer, a purchaser, a trader, a bargainer who exhibited and sold widely his cars and other vehicles, a vendor, a seller, a salesman. A man of immense vigour who continually moved forward throughout his life. He was a car salesman for whom the buying and selling of cars were one and the same. These qualities permeate all his work with its continuous opposition to non-participation in the car trade in all its repressive forms, whether moral or aesthetic. During his life he bought and sold ten-thousand cars and car-type vehicles, two hundred vans, sixty-seven heavy goods vehicles (or large vans), and a dune buggy. This list doesn’t include the many repairs of his cars and numerous car parts for customers. There are also all the cars and vehicles that he sent to car expos for his contemporary car salesmen. Tzara’s active concern for the car trade was reciprocated by these salesmen in their many test drives with him. His own cars were in turn sold to Arp, Braque, Dali, Sonia Delaunay, Ernst, Giacometti, Gris, Marcel Janco, Kandinsky, Klee, Léger, Masson, Matisse, Miro, Picabia, Picasso, Man Ray, and Yves Tanguy.

Remixed passage from Lee Harwood’s introduction to Chanson Dada: Tristan Tzara Selected Poems.

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Sonnet, 2013. Discovered by accident following incompetent use of the copy+paste function.

the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page
the lineated poem on the page

The Tollund Man

Iron-age village by Lejre.
Iron-age house by Lejre.
The residents lived in the western end of the house.
The livestock was kept in the eastern end of the house.

The Tollund Man didn’t shave the last 24 hours of his life.
The Tollund Man was naked, except for his cap and belt.
The Tollund Man with the rope around his neck.
Livestock was sacrificed, too.

The look on his face is calm.
Like a person sleeping quietly.
The eyes are closed.
The lips are well-preserved.

Look!

Poem made with captions and photograph found at the Tollund Man website.

If you were to describe the world in 3 words, what words would you choose? (a crowdsourced poem)

This poem collects responses to the question above gathered both online and afk. An ongoing project, it will be updated once a week (on Sunday evening, or as near to Sunday evening as possible) with any new responses gathered, after which line-order will be randomised using The Incredible Automated Dada Poetry Machine (by AUTODADA) in order to produce fresh and expanding poetic arrangements on a weekly basis. The final line, however, is the poet’s own; its adjective is subject to change depending on how the poem/world develops. If you would like to contribute, please leave your response in the comments and it will be included with the next update. A huge thanks to all contributors past, present and future, without whom this poem could not exist.

some oul craic
fuckin loada pish
scary, wet, humble
conical, chaotic, noisy
hard to leave
rock broch croque
Life versus Facebook
harmless? yeah, right…
STAND DOWN OBAMA
must do better
cyclical, spherical, magical
smooth and round
Google Images vague
a big question
absolute fucking carnival
fuck you Cal
for my taking
argh argh aieee!
very fucking small
thin crazy crust
dark spontaneous craft
is this it?
sad sorry state
utter pure brilliant
Wet and hairy
something not nothing
Mars is better
overcrowded, ignorant, doomed
not bloody likely
I don’t know
big and round
a rock lobster
crowded twisting ball
you and me
it’s in space
interesting and fun
A fucking shambles
an eclectic dump
brown and blue
mixed bag, like
money-grabbing bastards
round, fast, blue
colour, variety, fucked
earthy airy meaty
blue, populised, contoured
chaotic, beautiful, confusing
-Full -Empty -Mine
big and round
coincidence of opposites
our holy star
A pile pish
wild at heart
money isolation success
I’ve got nothing
facing impending doom
so much potential
spherical yet pointy
mulleted galactic vessel
scotch egg picnic
a crazy poem

Accidental text poem by Travs

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