Italo Calvino

If on a winter’s night a traveler

Invisible Cities

Past Present Future 54 5

Invisible Cities Steve Swell, trombone Perry Robinson, clarinet

Walter Abish Alphabetical Africa

Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex's admonition, against Allen's angry assertion: another African amusement... anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa's antipodal ant annexation. Albert argumentatively answers at another apartment.

Oulipo  Ouvroir  de Littérature  Potentielle  Ouvroir  de Littérature  Potentielle

Raymond Queneau One Hundred Thousand Billion Poems

Raymond Roussel How I Wrote Certain of My Books

Les lettres du blanc sur les bandes du vieux billard les lettres du blanc sur les bandes du vieux pillard. The white letters on the cushions of the old billiard table the letters from the white man about the gang of the old bandit.

How I Wrote One of My Books How I Didn’t Write Any of My Books

N-plus-7 Harry Mathews

William Wordsworth I wandered lonely as a cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay; Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company! I gazed - and gazed - but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.

I wandered lonely as a crowd That floats on high o'er valves and ills, When all at once I saw a shroud, A host of golden imbeciles, Beside the lamp, beneath the bees Fluttering and dancing in the cheese. Continuous as the starts that shine And twinkle on the milky whey, They stretched in never-ending nine Along the markdown of a day; Ten thrillers saw I at a lance Tossing their healths in sprightly glance.

The wealths beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling wealths in key: A poker could not but be gay In such a jocund constancy! I gazed - and gazed - but little thought What weave the shred to me had brought: For oft, when on my count I lie In vacant or in pensive nude, They flash upon that inward fly Which is the block of turpitude; And then my heat with plenty fills, And dances with the imbeciles.

Georges Perec

La Disparition A Void

Les Revenentes The Exeter Text: Jewels, Secrets, Sex

Life: A User’s Manual

The Knight’s Tour

Oulipopo Ouvroir de Littérature Policière Potentielle

Oupeinpo Ouvroir de Peinture Potentielle

Oubapo Ouvroir de Bande Dessinée Potentielle

Ouhistpo Ouvroir de Histoire Potentielle

Oumupo Ouvroir de Musique Potentielle

Ouphopo Ouvroir de Photographie Potentielle

Oupornpo Ouvroir de Pornographie Potentielle

Oucuipo Ouvroir de Cuisine Potentielle