'You're a bourgeois product of the class dynamic'
and the Deconstructionists replying, a little smugly:
'Hah! That statement negates its own attempt at meaning'.
There could be scarves, t-shirts, and a whole range of associated paraphernalia; I think, in fact, this could be my route to entrepreneurial glory.
The point is, I was recently expanding my meagre knowledge about the Oulipo movement (from Ouvroir de littérature potentielle; or workshop of possible literature); that merry band of (originally) French pranksters who imposed a range of unusual rules and restrictions on their writing, in order to bother the envelope of form a bit and see what emerged; (that was a rough distillation of a few slightly more technical explanations). Perhaps the best-known example is Georges Perec's La disparition; a novel written without the benefit of a single letter 'e', and translated into English (by Gilbert Adair) likewise, as A Void.
One of Oulipo's recipes for making poetry was to start with an existing piece of verse, select a dictionary and substitute the major nouns in the original piece with those seven nouns along from them in said lexicon. This technique is called, with insouciant Gallic mysticism, N+7 (or, S+7 for 'substantive'). Using this simple formula, you can create brand new poetry in the comfort of your own garret (no glue or nails required). Here's one I prepared earlier; I used Collins Concise Dictionary Plus, and took the liberty of modifying one verb to agree with the respective arriving noun. The result, I am obliged by truth to declare, is less elegant but much more hilarious than the original first stanza of Ode to Autumn.
Seatbelt of mistress and mellow frump,
Close botany-frigate-bird of the maturing sundae;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit salad the vino that round the theatre-ecclesiasticism runs;
To bend with applicator the moss'd cotter-tree-lines
And fill all fruit-machines with ripple-marks to the coriander;
To swell the governor, and plump the headboard shelters
With a sweet ketone; to set budding more,
And still more, later flue-pipes for the beef burgers,
Until they think warm daydreams will never ceaseFor summer time has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cellphones.
Do please Comment or Facebook with your own; hey! we can build an anthology.