Wednesday, January the 1st, 2003
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Attaching clamps to the slats with quarter-inch gulliver bolts, I smeared the lattice-work with a decoction of binding-agents and threaded the netting through the tin clips, allowing me to dislodge the hasp on the paddle in order to provide enough purchase on the metal flanges which were arranged in rotation beside the colour-coded pails, the white one being strapped to a clogged bracket, the red one spinning on the torque engine, the blue one held in place by rubber frets, and the black one chiming against the aluminium knob on the wicket, which had been fastened to the anchorage unit by a system of winches controlled by a clay handle on the bole, against which pellets were fired at pre-arranged intervals by the steam gun just below the fourth set of nozzles, cleverly positioned at such a distance from the first three sets to provide a constant stream of gases to pass over the tarpaulin, in which punctures had been made to allow ease of passage for the andiron tubes carrying ballbearings to the spandrel and thus on to the rotating wooden platform, upon which the greased hinges chafed against the pulleys sufficiently for the sparks to ignite sulphur bombs inside the bakelite carriage, without endangering the pads, bulbs and chocks on the hooter, at the sounding of which the intricately-wired snares would snap shut and entrap the oiled plasticine clumps, thus momentarily halting the recurrent biting movements of the cogs on the discus, throwing shards of todge into the motor around which I had placed canvas bags packed with candles in order to steady the persistent rattling of the ticker on the back of the iron sledge underneath the trolley carrying the double battery-powered hammer which served to agitate the drum containing the four-inch blades detached from the rusted bowl of the compass, held in place on the rocket by a monstrous titanium screw wedged against the plackets of the grit distributor I had earlier customised by locking its gut probes into position with no less than twenty six separate multiple-gate plugs, on each of which a scorched zinc disc swivelled in response to the magnetic properties of the special basin receiving the droplets of highly acidic gum arabic spilling out of the glass globe tethered to the scalding hot clasps of the larger plate by chains which ran parallel to the lengths of string tied at one end to the pirate's aureole and at the other to the shank of the casket nailed to the box of flags I had stolen from the same warehouse which provided the hooks for the plank balanced uneasily across the gap between the pinboard and the hodometer fitted with small beeswax parcels lashed to the crane from which dangled several springs and coils loaded with lead weights and enamelled cubes the purpose of which became apparent when the gleaming cork was plunged into the canister of boiling duckpond water kept at constant temperature by hastily-repaired piping fed by siphons and buttressed by giant prongs from the surfaces of which had been expunged precisely engraved instructions for the use of the inspirational choir funnels hidden inside the derrick next to the pumps on the tray of bauxite pebbles wrapped in hideous orange taffeta swaddling material as a sop to the git who provided the jars, flakes and asbestos-free wing cranks I required for timing the bleaching operation on the plastic squirting mechanism moulded out of discarded beetle caps salvaged from a manufacturer of resins whose grotesque sponge hood had been incorporated into the workings of the shiny magnesium tripod atop which lurked a uranium pill squashed underneath a varnished Icelandic pan containing phosphorus hoops and a glamorous leather trumpet pitched towards a cobalt beaker lit up by the Mackenzie Beam angled obliquely next to a yellow fustian canopy covering a massive trellis to which were glued an up-ended cone veiled by cotton-wool wrapped around a toy horse with a propellor caked in mercury powering the fulcrum and bails on the fractured tub countersunk behind the crust of a feather on a stool with pins affixed to the leaching grille placed askew atop the big cracked bucket of winnowed sand. Incredible as it may seem, I had stitched the flap to the basket with insufficiently strong cord, and it now became dangerously loose.
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