Print of Judith with the head of Holofernes, Florence
& St. Sebastian 6 arrows dead radiating
haughty uncle-affect ennui in his neck cocked & black curly
tufts suffused with recent shampoo perhaps Pantene
Pro V Botticelli? Next page
we go crooking
slashing
reeds from reed bed but
with dainty hand a head a quill a cock’too
much a symbol crashes together in its own potentials, the trunc
ated head the pen becomes a blank paper. We view the viewer surmise she
holds in her right the blade less daintily lovingly more
so such is grip. A brocading at her own collar neither the neck nor
head visible nor nethers wow, she amputated too but just right
end of the entire body. We presume she dons a black robe
though mourning being a mysterious movement, leaves us
blank, or ergo
beheaded, on the horizon upsloping tender
hills not mountains, light, & before them
war on near horses, lines of pikes upraised, the
afoot like satyrs, the saddled sore as centaurs, a quick-
silver morph into one body, one war body, many complete
creatures, a flag
slanting at the same angle as...the reed
dispossessing Holofernes’
romance appearance.
-Fronz von Stuck, Judith
.
ii.
Le culte de la violence.
I ate a spirit molecule with my lungs.
almost,
it ripped apart a body
gills to the air
fingering the red prickly blade of flame
touched it tried to breath
violated by eros.
“Eros is an issue of boundaries.
He exists because certain boundaries do.
In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counterglance, between, ‘I love you’ and ‘I
love you too,’ the absent presence of desire comes alive.
But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the main,
inevitable boundary that creates Eros; the boundary of flesh and self between you and me.
And it is only, suddenly, at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary,
I realize I never can.”
One desire desiring out
onto another desire desiring out onto
another desire desiring some other desire entirely
triangulated
in the metro in paris
everyone sees
everyone is desirous
a gaze
approaches you,
approximates and creates you, itself, at once
gazes away
we had just been watching
Canadian film about the absence of borders where
a little girl and her mad father
who wouldn’t buy her glasses
leaves her to find a wild tiger in the forest
the bodies heaped in the snow still as she laydown next to them
being with other beings being like them
because he had left her for sometime alone
trying to try being next to beings not being both of them,
trying to try to find
the frontierin the theater.
For how you pulled out your hair
I will always want to move and be moved away from.
The contraction of selves infuriates me.
the spirit molecule offeredno place to go but constellations
to see myself overI licked my finger tasted of salt of
heat I wandered wantingmy wound
to push into heat
as an infant plunges
it's hand into honey.
.
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