True Confessions of a Subliterate Dork
On the Aesthetics of Beauty and Hell
Under the sea, mining stunning stabs of sorcerous intrigue. Jealousy for awareness, a hunger and sorrow exploding with thirst, clinging like madness –
And secretive – as a locket of hair imprisoned in the shape of a heart.
A bastard funk wild and grueling with riotous sweet contagions of ardor, sympathy, fascination with wile, arrogance, strength –
Abandon through? abandon through –
Came the cries of scurrilous ( pornographic ) angels in thrall to Atropos, lush stumbling throttles of death.
Dotting every bruise on a ripe perverse self-swallowing peach, as the divine map itself! with a little blood red flag for every wicked little death – where here belies destiny.
A body that turns religiously to mud when breaking taboo. Could not, the body could not follow through! Frightened despicably by a monstrous invocation of greed and desire.
Clotted agog curiously insidiously to an incantation of need & submission. Blown over by blow after blow of siren & cruces –
Running off to where raged & peaked indecision of a scandalous rupture, of a sublime unnameable nothingness – again and again.
A strange unhinging frailty, eclipsing tatters of a heart most unduly, as circled an orrery of beauty and contempt.
Stuffed to the breaking point with wicked fiendish inbred loops of sorrow and havoc. Mysteriously wrapping itself up for good – up up up inside scared sacred wounds, of a lowly mummy, locked in a battle of inscrutable stealth.
And yet – no matter what! still clingy, still clinging to desperadoes and harbingers of dishallow love, the voyage of awareness & desire, cognition and sensitivity – as its only “true” faith.