7.13.2012

Critical Caste

Was I good for you, social structure?
More to the left, language?
How was that, identity?
DOES NOT MEAN A THING!

The discourse is:
One million blades make a bed
Do not want to get mowed down
Oh god damn

When you are 70 degrees
148 heartbeats and quickening
with individual autonomy
You are finally FREE of subjectivity

Latex gloves Flourescent lights
A sensory holding cell 
With no love no heartbreak
No pop song stuck in head
Just breathing ecstatic
(for the sake of breathing)


Poetry and Painting for Sex

To be honest!
How was I to know
I would not drown and die ?
We would make it back to shore
Where they shipped sand from
My Gulf of Mexico homeland
To exclaim: this is a beach
Do you believe? picture the dark
blanket of water stretching
to all corners swallowing you
up to your middle and
for a moment
you think you've become
part of the sea. rolling waves
bring moonlight to you and you
see one suave shark 3 inches
taller, blonde and blue eyed
like a myth heard on tv
ricocheting silver fins
glimpse of knife blade teeth
He kisses you, brushes your breasts
Translucent in the night light
With his gill and coughs
To make you think of his immunity
And then he has his way you and him bob
Up and down holding on to the orange buoy
you think you are drowning
can't recall any capabilities
of swimming in water so deep
but feeling weightless stirs
a light-hearted, creamy grunt
and the cold-blooded fish finishes
what he was there for
his proud laugh bellows
all the way
to the tiny lantern houses across a sea
"I can't believe we did that"
Walking onto shore,
the life of your spine
Spills into him from your thighs
And he struts through time
An amphibiman. At first step,
"This lake never did see a meteor
Or glacier or earthquake
Yet it stands arsenic, mercury,
Bacteria and sand." Picture it.
What had I done?

Socialization of Postindustrial Sorcery

Lady Femininity, exuding sweaty, feverish hours
Now forgotten or frenzied for with her fat,

Pink caterpillar lips firm and handful thighs,
And ocean-wide eyes that may come to sag,

Cave in along cleavages. But she never forgets
Forging ancestral advice, "Honey, child,

You deserve to be better!
Drink men's masonic milk for sexier chess chests

That win you a porch worth a a damn."
Lady Femininity, Shiva, Madonna,

Mary and Mary, whatever her name!
My quiet, cold mother!

My misfit grandmother
Marinating jazz instead of marrow

the Lady knows it all; So, I read up
Chewed up contraception candy

Practiced come-hitheros and bitter
I-beg-your-pardons incessantly

Lurking behind boulder partitions
To exercise my magic in secret

While still chowing down
On a paid-for dinner and

A suave, tall suitor
As she taught