Sunday, March 16, 2008

from Touch Me


Dear Player,

1. The last time we played you were heaving up sonnets. Thick sentimental meter covered in textual goo. You woke up at four a.m. on the verge of panic.

2. Elle’s harebrained staging of a miscarriage demands mutilated identity. Short circuited she pretends to walk down the aisle, tonguing a chocolate frosted spoon. Her gaze cut by a razor of sunlight. My stomach pangs have returned. Sympathy pains. Inscape is imagined to hold its own against threat. Rarely does Elle accept symbolism over authority. This is what she always wanted. She wanted to begin.

3. Teabags dried onto our windowsill. Begin breathing. Erotica chewed into mouth. Create diabolical results. I am guilty of rummaging through her foul delicates. I breathe rank discoloration, stale fumes playing games. Elle is crumbling untranslatable. Sleeping Beauty’s burnt lips awakened in terror. Subject castration wears a rubber mask. Eye sockets mold delight; lingerie soaked under thrust of menstrual fiction. Pants cuff thighs in muff lunge. Between two powers the recourse of anal eroticism fears castration, the reticence of anthropologists. Neither tears nor sperm are prohibitions. Murderous confirmations reveal obsessed neuroses of the father.

4. Once upon a deconstructive surgery the proper body terrorized virtue. Insist on this missionary form. Stick your finger in my ass. Fetal delegates crave harmonic rhythm. She used to suck my cock and push my hands away when instead I tried to fuck her. Immediate relation to the unclean thing.

5. Each speaking being has corporeal altercations with climax. Falstaff smeared clitoral spasms. Queen Elizabeth, Bernadette Mayer, (that is the sexual life). Rhymes sound church bell resuscitation. Cheek-flats honeymoon her lower body. Strung between paranoia and poison, sustenance feeds on organized repetition. Body of nails begins a mother-speaking being. Maternal body is nourishing, murderous, and fascinating. Serrated errantly her blouse stitched hormonal derangement. Chiropractic embraces.
“Explain once again your genitals hemorrhaging with paternal function.”

Intimately nocturnal struggling between the bodies of two women is the incentive toward defilement. JalapeƱo thumbprint smothered cock lips. Light my cock ablaze and inject it into eyeball. Umbilical cord constricted wrists. Cannibalistic libido pulverizes fantasy. Labia glisten. Her dress around her waist preyed obliqueness of pre-memory. Learn her birthmark. Elle swallows until there is nothing left: an epileptic’s reentry. Lead into cage. Argue and persuade. Differentiate between sophisticated restraints and decaying symbols. Unavoidably diluted, I will have my complimentary altruist.

6. Elle’s hands curled around a chalk-drawn wastebasket wait for pyrotechnic epistolary. Nips and hisses speckle back an epileptic audition. Suture this languagescape. Clean amplified mystery and self-destruct. Within this architecture we are eroding into spatial intimacy of other, an eager mouth, a body-bound thing. The designated punch line complains of violent spasms. Think of my lover’s face covered in marginal comments. Operate on a subordinate function pulling it fragmentarily into a nearby sentence. Despite apparent chaos you are alien to original purpose.


celestual said...

there's the extreme violence of language and action and body between body and language and touch and no touch. the distance to the reader contracts and expands based on the intimacy and graphic interludes - i would be curious to its placement in context with the other pieces i have read - we missed you this weekend. call if you get the urge.

jcooper said...

thank you friend...

jcooper said...

thank you friend...