LISKO FABLES or tales to win a legend – II

tale: Awakenings and Side Gatherings

The Lizard wakened adventitiously right into her very birthday. Birthday is a handmade item produced exclusively upon individual request. There are no two identical ones in existence, there is no commercial dispatch. The serial number needs to be memorized and taken. Sentiments may sweep or not.


tale: Horizontal Anxieties

That very day the Lizard peeled an eye open to a waning trample. The trample was of the unindentified and escapist sort, rhapsodic and haunting. As circumstantial as an occurrence may be, it appeared to the Lizard that from the most severe of angles she spotted a throbbing source and its rapidly ebbing reverberation: the ultimate fata morgana was toppling over the horizon. Soothed by such reflection of the image, the Lizard craned over her own strained neck and buried it among the sands.


tale: GMT+1

The difference between the Lizard and a nonlizard embeds in manipulation. As some the Lizard manipulates time and matter, as at all a nonlizard manages times and numbers.


tale: Solid Fears and Incompact Matters

The Lizard fell into a tremor. She slid her toes into the sand. The desert is a uniquely hygroscopic substance. It dries anxieties. It absorbs chills and attention. As time goes by the time slows down, amplitudes drop and calm infuses the air. The Lizard gathers the spirits off her shoulder and glides the wan shadows among the grains shaken off her front.


———————————————by A.C., Pisa, Italy, 2003

LISKO FABLES or tales to win a legend – I

tale: Extirpation, Destabilization, Regeneration, Production, Promotion, Consumption

The Lizard is relatively strenuous to have anything wrested from; balance, in particular. Stoning (employed by trappous ornithologists) and blasting (NB the Lizard, whose skin may be quite smooth, exhibits a reversed succession of strata) are the two methods that apply. Balance regenerates leggardly as opposed to the tail. The Lizard Balance Extract is highly rated on asian markets.

tale: Holden Caulfield

The Lizard woke up into the first splashes of sun. She lapped a pensive gape, led around a squinted eye. Led on, led off, led up to the fields, where the winds lodge grasses to sleep. They force them on her. The lea shuns the light. It covers the air. That reptilian spirit of hers gives up, gives in and will give away among the blades.

Absolute Frequency & Relative Paradox

When the Lizard reaches the Desert, the rising sun is barely audible. Days of the Lizard cease sooner than the Whale’s belly empties. When the Lizard assents she has reached a destination, she bares her chest before the moon in a hasty rumination. No combining. No nictitating. No twinkling. No howling. She swivels an eye in a plane or two, she thrusts her tail down the sand. She seeks silence, extracts dreams from the Desert. She slips in the former, crawls in the latter. No pondering.

tale: Tomorrow

Ascertained that today is unmistakably growing over, and that the sun is lurking in the east and her lids yearn toward the south, the Lizard will seek comfort among the sands. Young and cheerful, the Lizard would cover the ellipsoidal head with her flaccid little taper appendage. Since it developed into a tail, the tail turned infrangible and the head solid, the Lizard roves about, coats the third eye with sand and when first mirages lean out from behind the horizon, the Lizard knows. It has begun.

————————– by A. C., 2003, Pisa, Italy ——————