Monday, April 5, 2010

Four Eggs for Greg

[Oh, 2005]

So Let’s Press the Body, Down

& Begin:

The stostovian Hug of your thips.

Lisps the longing of my, I found your Lips were quite embraceable for a Man

I confess in the larger scheme of things: Beauty on the Face of my Lips. In a fragile state of linking: The Body: is never a waste, Amen to that.

So I’m designed by Tumbling Down, does that make for longing?

You could be the Hysteria of the World. I am convinced of this.

Still, we are habitable, still we habituate in ways, in which we cannot compass, Down.


So Let’s Press the Body, Down

I cannot stand, the abundance

of Light in

here. Each

resureface is only

a repetition in Mine Eyes. Everybody’s

bringing me

Down, singing

songs I keep


Sight, rubbing

against & braced

in Glass/Give

me a shoulder,





So Let’s Press the Body, Down

I’m paraphrasing of course

Whether what I contemplate, I always find an Abyss of Love, I descend Down. The Delight & Dominance of being foolish. Lying Down. This extincts instinct the essence, our Head. To divide the Heart in head, quickly, a few paces away & abandoned, through it’s effects, Without a Doubt, I am a Rotten Man. I no longer know whether my Dear, I have already irrevocably Damaged what might have brought me Home, to You. Or if I’m even done moving, Down. I’m still trying to get my Body Grounding from this Fall to Winter, began, Down.

But, it’s Exhausting, when the Body, assumes a Question, Hanging Down. How disturbing it is, to be Man, [in] Still. Seams then, Betray in their insistence on Solidity.

Thus, it’s better to if even Fall then it is to Still—for if it’s going Down, then at least, we’ll fucking Drag it Down, you see? Everything, should be an attempt to Exceed, Exceeding Excess the limits of a personal approach to Ferocity, in order to will, I forget the Horrifying awareness of my Body’s, Bound Down. I can only hope for an increased Barbarity of the Mind on Down. & so I am written again & so I am slobbering again, against the Bombed-Out City, Down marveling at the Sight of a Round Body, Down now ash, now just a Texture on my Tongue. Down, town I see the ground before me shaking & hideously I’m stretching myself along the Embrace of a, I know I’m a speaking Ass, hobbling along, Down.

But remember this: physical paternities affect the Body, Down. The Limp in me instills in me that I am living still: worming about & sinking’around, Down.

Thus, what I wrote, Down:

1. Slowly, I’ve become more aware of my Hunger, dragging itself along, Down

2. I must never denounce my Bodygimp, I’m Down

3. To enact, a Seduction of the Apprehensible, on Down

4. There is no Physical Confrontation not worth Investigating, on Down.

5. I wish to walk everywhere, Barefoot on Down.

6. On my Body: There have been Populations went Down

7. If I am ruled by The Carnal, my Trajectory sails as a well-intentioned Insult, Down

8. Laying on One Another, my Face Junked, Down

9. What is in my Hands, now in Your Mouth it’ll go Down

10. I think I would Love your Face, once it met our Fist, we’re Down.


I am a Dog, enchanted