A Poem on Pictures from Taschen’s ‘Decorative Art 70s’.

A Poem on Pictures from Taschen’s ‘Decorative Art 70s’.
by Quasimofo

“The constraints placed on both architects and designers by the economic recession which dominated the 1970’s served only to spur on their creativity. While inventiveness characterized the work of the avant-garde during these years, that of the mainstream–bar a few notable exceptions–was typically bland, boring and dull. By the end of the decade, however, the public was generally more aesthetically aware and receptive to new architecture and design…For the avant-garde, the spiritual had once again become an important factor in the design of buildings and objects for everyday use.”
—Charlotte & Peter Fiell–

Wavy linens decompression and love in a pastel blacklight clam chamber…
i saw your invention’s evolution in revolution wah wah-ing the extended red finger
and turn the world’s anger into a sofa…just a jutting cacti could be the foci…
i’m an astronaut in my own damn kitchen, so eat up! Next, everyone get in my tub so
we can teleport to my moon base! …lower the iridescence lamp like a flower seat
like a scooter frozen in late pizza delivery.

Learn me

what the earth spells and give it back its lessons. lots of curves–could it be a reflection
and embracing of the feminist movement? look makes us feel. feel makes us. know your
beginnings and the middle and leave the end cause the end does not justify the beams.
Blend mend and pretend you eco brutal radish synthesizers!
Just someone give me a goddamn porch so i can breathe air and be one with nature…
the 70’s were a more dramatic version of the 60’s in some ways–that’s why i’m
buck-ass naked in the front yard watering the daisies. i always wanted an entire house

that

resembled my bathroom. light, trees, landscape scalp flat line in tight concrete wailing
the emergence of man’s coffee cafe get-away. sweep our failings into paisley
and highlight our better potentials–just keep a gentle reminder of our evil predilection
for destruction nearby so we don’t forget …say…like in the form of a rug.
i look out from my portal in my place by the pond where the atmosphere is for drinking
and water ripples in a floating balloon…a record shop in tokyo that even Godzilla wouldn’t
obliterate and a saucy shop to buy shoes where shoes are like a missing DNA rung
in our hibernating helix. wtf! what’s in the ceiling? yeah, it’s modern art again, bra.
Been trying to tell ya all these years that if you go up and down artsy steps daylong
sooner or later you’ll get the metaphor. Don’t slide down those on collapsed boxes
as an untrained paw descending a woke up piano. We’ve one-upped the Hobbits on
this hillside. Diatribulashun connery. let’s make love in the sunken living room day room
with the adobe southwest tunnel veranda one way looking glass harnessing the sun’s
vitamin D letting us believe we shape our destiny with our own hands and since
my hands are all over you and yours are all over me we’re connected eternal and have
unlocked the chi fe fi fo fumbling recentering discovery of the tao in Taos.

chaos

put to order by meshing as the same and not giving blame…even our trashcans promote
beauty and virtue osities…i wanna swim in the oyster and be its pearl baby plunging into
the depths of my own boot heels and begetting from the ground up…
furnish our furniture better than Sims 3 and give me a fancy place to pee–
yes…so i know from the bottom of my heart that waste gets recycled on a perfect Earth
we can think of as a sorta Mars. Budda had his bodhi, Fiona has her futon…complete
with a new age whiskey bar. She buys wine by the 6 pack in convenient cardboard
containers with a free membership to A.A. stamped on the bottom! Let’s reinvigorate restyle
interior decorating with coat-hangers bent in the form of an optical fantasma of zing zing!
–A playcenter for the kiddies so they don’t end up Bambi molesters…–it’s the new fad!
Whaduwegot here? Alice was a hippie who could shag on the shag and not bat a strobe.
You thought lava lamps were from a real

volcano?

No kid, but i’ve got a plate with a portrait of a chick so hot on it you don’t have to put
the food in a microwave–that’s what you get for having a cute dish.