her indentation a pressure point
to suppress dreams
that did not belong
in the vocabulary of her sleep,
sheets hid insecurities and ideals
naked form foetal curled,
an easy stereotype of an agitated mind,
face creased as much
as cotton pillow cover,
reclusive cave to that
twenty eight year identity
and hide it,
vodka bottle an empty on it’s side,
unable to rise
some piss had escaped
lemon floral bloom
washing microscopic secretions away
drowning them
a noah flood,
some clung
to droplet coated vaginal fur
where other bugs feasted
on what he had left behind
jellied semen being consumed
by eager ticks and bugs
not those that live on deer
roaming a frost bitten forest,
rolling cigarette
finger stubs stuffing tobacco
strands into place,
sat up thinking of the tensions
of the night,
looking at balled up blue panties
god she needed new ones
fabric had small holes
from fingers and eager pulling
to expose that vulnerability
not hers theirs,
sentimental erect rigs of flesh
to drill,
find rich seams of expendable fossil fuels
gasification of the soul
for we are carbon
and can be exhausted as quick,
the restoration of vision from thought
so relentless was her life
in reality could not cope with the debris
it remained as she continued,
bic lighter sputtered for a second
cigarette taste washed with cold dregs
of coffee as mug became ashtray,
inhaling
toilet flushed in other room
the drench of his fecal smell
filled the room before he left
a sour note
yet one she accepted,
she was a historical condition
and redemption would not come
with glowing analysis
finding place in biological and physical realms
and stepping away
from a climate of
frustration
Tag Archives: la pasión
obliged to function
[create a dream]
repetitive symbols and allegories
a habitual state of mind
within the complexity
of a certain strangeness,
it was a kiss/
significant to the external world
and not the four walled habitat
[interior body]
hearts and ideas created verses
spontaneous kiss
and delightful flesh
without absent things to deny,
music filled the simple sense
isolating the event
captured in his mind,
temptation a language of it’s own
an act of kiss/
[pure,impure]
moment cracked with resonance,
her eyes had claimed the
measurements of his passion,
without verbal matter to form
a leaf litter sheet
[fell upon her]
you discover in a kiss/
all named sciences describe
needs and imaginings ,
and in ache of after limbs,
aesthetic conditions
and those rules of attraction
will provide possibilities
for them
ROBERTO BOLAÑO – LISA
When Lisa told me she had made love
Another, in the life of that phone booth
Tepeyac store , I thought the world
He had for me. A tall skinny guy and
With long hair and a long dick that did not wait
Over an appointment to penetrate to the bottom.
There is something serious , she said , but
The best way to get you out of my life.
Parmenides Garcia Saldana had long hair and had
Been the lover of Lisa , but some
Years later I learned that he had died in a psychiatric clinic
Or that he had committed suicide . Lisa and I did not want
Go to bed with losers. Sometimes I dream
With her and see her happy and cold in Mexico
Designed by Lovecraft. We listen to music
( Canned Heat , one of the preferred groups
Parmenides Garcia Saldana ) and then we
Love three times . The first came inside me
The second came in my mouth and the third , just a thread
Water , a short fishing line, between my breasts. And all
In two hours, said Lisa . The two worst hours of my life,
I said from the other side of the phone.
asymmetric sexuality
night brought little clarity
between motel and slaughterhouse
it was a new jersey mythology
of white paint and brazen neon,
from the chevelle in the lot
they had come to meet
passed notes on realtor’s lined paper
two packs parliaments
hushed phone conversations
catalysts to the reaction
that imminent realization
of naked falling
upon bed worried with crumbs,
sheet shifted over sanitary cover
quilt shed to worn green nylon carpet,
by her side lay against her
it rested tacked by it’s own stickiness
to her leg,
now it was done
last moment devoid of thought
when she rolled it like a cigarette
licking with an anxious care,
this all for what,
that wooden mask of his face
expressionless
caressing her breasts
moving stiff fingers back and forth,
they where now derelict
in exploded rubble of emotion
it took her time to control her lip,
eyes could of burned,
but now all truth had been eliminated
and they would not see each other again
Leon de Grieff – Song of Dinarzada / Canción De Dinarzada
You were mine, burning Dinarzada:
your whole being handed my supplication
your whole being is important to me Nothing!
everything your fire melted into my fire!
You were mine, burning Dinarzada!
Because I care what the grim blind course!
fire for me is desolate
barren plain! Lightened sailed
under the disheveled storm!
All your fire melted into my fire!
Your big heart, your ecstatic soul,
your fine spirit, I beg
surrendered: Nothing donáronse my!
Overnight: give me your arms only,
Dinarzada subtle, dream night …
You were mine, burning Dinarzada!
Everything your fire melted into my fire!
and in original Spanish
Tú fuiste mía, ardiente Dinarzada:
todo tu ser se le entregó a mi ruego!
todo tu ser se le rindió a mi Nada!
todo tu fuego se fundió en mi fuego!
Tú fuiste mía, ardiente Dinarzada!
Ya qué me importa el torvo rumbo ciego!
Es lumbre para mí la desolada
llanura yerma! Alígero navego
bajo la tempestad desmelenada!
Todo tu fuego se fundió en mi fuego!
Tu grande corazón, tu alma extasiada,
tu espíritu finísimo, a mi ruego
se rindieron: donáronse a mi Nada!
Noche: en tus brazos únicos me entrego,
Dinarzada sutil, noche soñada…
Tú fuiste mía, ardiente Dinarzada!
Todo tu fuego se fundió en mi fuego!
blood of the cucurbita
we are myth
we are legend,
behind fences we are found
bred and sacrificed on all hallows eve,
generations past
gutted and carved in celebration,
so misunderstood seen only as decoration
as human skulls on poles once where,
unlike my wild cousins in mexico
scattered over landscape and mountain,
they do not suffer the tampering
of our genetics
79 loci,
phenotypic slides for frankenstein,s scientist
altered , inbred,
not realizing our beauty
in shape and color
palmate leaves , long tendrils
unisexual flowers touched by gentle bee
curling about stamen
stroking with long legs
collecting pollen my yellow stain
peponapis body thrumming
resonant on my petals,
10,000 years of domestication
treated worse than dogs
compliant in nature as man knows best
our flesh substance forgotten
as gourd display incised and flensed
to amuse and terrify
projects of another’s nature
that is more disturbing and cruel
burning crooked roses
coyotes yip !
as i walk through baby cyclones
up the stairs to the sky
as she remained
on sweating rocking horse
deeply sea pearl glint in eye,
oh is there anything else other
than immortality,
reward and wisdom,
have i become the dog
that runs through muddy rivers
to wash the gasoline of brutality off,
i will never see an algae
covered stone coffin,
horse keeps rocking
travelling this
unremarkable earth machine,
stairs behind me
as are leaking babies
and crushed beercans,
no cloud castle
old vagrants song rings softly,
weeping in whitman’s embrace
i have left human shape
finger shadows reach
as frozen spider would,
my once and fevered love
rides on
la danse et l’intervention passionnée
there was no deity in her toes
or mystical magic,
brazen eccentricity,
alcohol infused depravity
clung like smoke
that became exhausted on breath,
the morbid look of reality
as being human is to dance
bare splayed white thigh flesh
promise of midnight feast
fulgent in face
he wished to grasp her now
be away upon a tram
tearing worsted tights
patched with careful hand
lamplit ombres chinoises
concavity of upturned behind
receiving wild attention,
she has him as a pale
pierrot languishing on soft words
and gentle caress
having seen the kaleidoscope
and been within pink basket
away with shallow shadows
to find his way home,
naked on sheets tugged and messed
alone
internal orchestra played on
stood upon her rug
once vibrant
and danced again
for herself this time,
watched only by flickering
wax candles
life and all inbetween
knotted wings of crows
with scarce strength
rise into rain,
below vegetation
burnished by fall
listens to the calls,
damp rooted trees
in eroded soil
cover to our
consummation,
revisited after twenty
years,
as one we move
our lives wove a story,
origin in these fields
birth from these fields
as cells would watch
these fields and woodland,
a last exhalation,
we would not return
an act of memory
physical and intricate
framed in the cortex
for tomorrow
Sunday Whirl 119
threat of nature
waxwing
on your long leafed bough
through your mask
why do you fucking stare at me
through the window
i stare back
do you see me for what i am
a cuckoo
in another’s nest
mating with another’s wife
i cant help it
you beautiful bastard
if i had a gun
i would shoot you
yet watching head bow
beak rub bark
fragile in bone and feathers
you are nervous
afraid of predators
above and below
so fuck you
i am of the high order species
and do not forget
it