What if I did 3 poems
and 1 out of the 3 of them
these 3 poems
was about sex
particularly
and in some or other way
1 of them
1 of these poems
presenting with the fact
of the existence of sex
as a fact
in the world
spoken about and mentioned
how would that seem to you
would it seem strange
or what about
if there was say 150 poems
and 50 of them roughly
of these 150 poems
were to be about sex in some way
particularly
connecting with the fact
of the existence of sex
in the world
as an existential task
and as a formal discipline
perquisite to consciousness
and sufficient to the initial requirements
of poetry
so
50 of them like that
poems
going on about sex
out of 150
how would that seem to you
would it seem stranger
or more odd
than if there were just
from 3 poems only 1 poem about sex
with the other 2 not.
Alien
Alien vagina dentata
chomping on my cock
Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata
shitting upon progressive rock
Alien cannibal paedophile
looking for a spot
minced up penis all the while
I think my chance is shot.
special formalities
the cock of socrates
Now think of bread and butter
let us say
for argument's sake
wholemeal bread
organic bio dynamic
don’t panic
and with butter
the real schmutter
and then tahini
wipe lashed onto it
and topped with sliced
cucumber
cucumber
you heard that right
sliced cucumber
but the bread is not toasted
it is raw
raw bread
now think of toasted bread
properly cooked bread
dressed with the schmutter
and whip-lashed again with the tahini
the sacred tahini
and then honey
Norfolk Cottage
maximum wattage
and now the slices of banana
Gros Michel
to crown the mop
such wonderful moments
a tasting on the cop.
My friend has a boyfriend
who recently she caught texting the girl
he used to talk to before her
calling her love
flirting, etc
she told me they were done for good and she wouldn’t be going back
we dropped his clothes off at his house
(using MY car)
blasted hot girl music in front of his house
and just complaining to me in general about him
2 days later and she’s back to texting him
now when he does the same thing and hurts her again
I don’t want to hear a single thing about it
I was there the first time and you didn’t listen
so I will not be there the next.
A.
As an exquisitely beautiful
young 18 year old woman
you deserve to be worshipped and celebrated
widely in your community
instead you have been very badly used
by a questionable young woman
a friend so called
somebody who is consumed in a destructive heterosexual relationship
a toxic and a banal monstrosity
an abortion of love writhing spasmodically
as a public fact
with a narcissistic self-seeking smiling philanderer
she this friend of yours
has physically prostrated herself before this corrupt and drooling monster
a human chisel
with her legs open
and allowed him to use her body at no cost
despite the impossibility of either respect or fidelity in the matter of copulation
due to the cancerous and due to the self-seeking and consuming sexual criminality
of the acquisitive and of the remorseless and blithe young man in question
she has attempted to drag you into her own personal hell
of harm and damage
of calculation of vengeance and of punishment and retribution
what you need to do is to watch your step right now
before you are finally imported into a terminal structure of violent animal control
after which is pure danger.
You have got
verse
verse
and you have got
free verse
free verse
verse
verse
and free verse
free verse
with verse
with verse
with verse
there is a recognizable pattern
there is a recognizable pattern
with verse
the pattern is made of things
but never mind what they are
they are something and nothing
a syllable and a stress
there is a category of identified forms
of metric pattern (rhythm)
a selection a finite and a definite core regime
of more or less arbitrary
cardinal positions that amount to an aesthetic
of the artificial and of the constrained
by folly as much as by nature a global failure of love
a rejection of the geometric
this is verse
as we know it
verse
whereas
with free verse
with free verse
with free verse
you can tell the truth
with no more crying babies
at the photo-me booth
with free verse
you just don’t give a shit
it is your mouth
that wants to say it
you know what happened don’t you
and so you just get on with it
and freely
in the verse
the free verse.
Discomfort.
I was thinking about discomfort
I mean you mentioned some discomfort
let us say that there is some discomfort
there is some discomfort
and now that we are aware
that there is some discomfort
we must make a determination
regarding the originality of the discomfort
namely is it
the discomfort
an immediate and an unvarnished report of an original
personal psycho-spiritual-aesthetic deficit or perplexity
this discomfort
or is there some broader or some more ultimate or universal justification
for the discomfort coming from residing in and depending upon
some laws of existence
that are totally ideally justified
in the purpose or object of form and of proportion and of rectitude
one might say personal or professional tendencies
and inclinations
that can ably tend to prevail the one upon the other
and alternating
but now nevertheless
one wonders about what it is
that one is supposed to feel
in the sense of
what is the final order of the priorities
which you told me
that it doesn’t matter
you told me
that there was an indian summer
going on there in my mind
you promised
a final gasp of resonance
you put it there
some genuine play
before I lost it again
behold the discomfort
the discomfort is voluntary
the discomfort is compulsory.
Look at him
the rude fellow
the tyke
he ought by rights
to be apprenticed
into the secret service assassins
and killers crack-unit of the state
the murderers
the shock troops
installed there
to perform as a trained man of action
a dog biting
in service of the good
operating garottes
in interrogation rooms
a marksman tasked to destroy the human brain
right between the eyes
or otherwise
he shall go to the bad
and be away from us forever
desperate men have their uses
society would be cleansed and rinsed
of slough
if desperate men
were routinely apprehended
in a good time and sympathetically
conscripted thereafter into historic valour
rather than as they are broadly
left to become the spastic muscular flexions
the tics the wrinkles
the spasms
and the libidinous paroxysms
wracking the diseased body of the parasite class
the money lenders
uninhibited there by reason or love
arbitrary and aghast
gauche and shallow
dislocated and contingent
blind and careless
a paragon of respectability
and of modernity
the naughty boy
is not naughty
or at all harmful anymore
he is now to be
eternally flaccid
in this new age
of rights and of equality.
I don’t want to do
only one thing at a time
I don’t
I want to do more
than one thing
at a time
I do
=
You don’t want to do
only one thing at a time
you don’t
That is not enough
for you so to do?
=
Correct
I don’t want to do
only one thing at a time
=
Give me an example
=
Well for instance
when I am cleaning my teeth
that is just one thing
that you are doing
one thing on its own
that you are doing
when you are
cleaning your teeth
but when you think about it
on the other hand
you can jerk off as well
you can carry out the act
you can execute it
when you are cleaning your teeth
you can jerk off as well
and use up the spare time
fair spell enough
in fact somewhat sublime
=
Well then what about
when you are jerking off then?
What do you do as well
along with it?
the jerking of off
when you are doing it
What else do you do
when you are in and during
the jerking of off
to use up the spare time?
I mean to say that
watching pornography
such comes to my mind
watching pornography
it comes straight to my mind
=
Well
Winston Churchill
Winston Churchill
Winston Churchill
was a nasty little cunt
a nasty
a very little cunt
Winston Churchill
they are all just
they are all the same
all of them
shitty dirty actors
Adolf Hitler
Boris Johnson
Todger Whittington
paid stuntmen
What did they do?
What did they do?
When they were cleaning their teeth?
Where were they?
What did they do?
Where were they really?
I mean
During the act?
Were they up to the speed?
Stupid bastards
Did they pull their plonker?
Did they wring the Todger?
Did they thrill to murder it?
Did they drill to girdle it?
Did they strangle the Turkey?
Asphyxiation
Did they pump out some spunk?
Any hot lucid jets of real living spunk?
Do not say it
they you do not say it
Things they are looking murky?
Did they ejaculate?
fucking hell!
=.
Why is that what
I want them to be what they are
why is that what
what they are
why did I say that
did I say that for the every
do
mind you
for the every do of the true what
why is that what I that I do
that I do
why is that what that I do.
One thing that I like
yes
is female athletes
yes
female athletes
the ones born with perfect and real vaginas
yes
real vaginas that mature
into the shaved images of man's highest aspiration
love and speculation
yes
real vaginas of female athletes
snatching so voraciously at the livelong day
now
these perfect female athletes
exhibit their vagina-sockets
and also their lusty asshole-sockets
during their sporting events
in explicit and in vivid sexual outline
and very often
with open-legged sincerity availability and belief
demonstrating the magnanimity of their willing and athletic flesh
come with me also now
and worship the beauty
worship the superior flesh testimony
of authentically socketed
and everlastingly ready
adorable female athletes.