17 Apr 2008

Tableau Frontier

(this is a poem in response to Rob Chrysler's Lustily Growing Breasts poem. By the way, I haven't been commenting much lately, but I do stop by here quite often and want to say how much I love all of your works! It's really quite amazing how prolific you all are, and how much this group has grown over the years.)

Her spleen’s varicose filigree waits to be filled like a twitching maggot gut as she splays. Lecherous dog, mongrel flesh, lay quivering with fecal breath. Grovel, mange. Night’s capillaries feast on warm thighs.

Dutifully, boiling liquids discharge, lip-suck death like strung-up sex in the abattoir--all bloody before the waving wheat. Her tits, each meat hook braces a stretched areola. An eternity of pain growing in animal thicket.

Vulva-small; a thin ring of red rips before the hesitant hip like a sore-plump sow. Tiny ghosts in stained linen--their corporeal unrest more daunting as the shadows of her fuckless machine lay in tableaux after tableaux of soft, singed meat.

Horror-laughter is seized and then forgotten. Anemic drawings soon reduce themselves to colluvia dust. Her eyes--the languid opals of once, those promising pearl mornings-- melt into unforgiving glass. The solvent shadows drown the torso into quietly panting frontiers. Parched mesa. Valley. Barren.


Anonymous said...


Ruela said...


Robert said...

you moooooove me

waaaaaaaaaay down insiiiiidddde!!


Led Zep flashback!!

kek-w said...

Yo! Matina in the house!

TICTAC said...