Academic journal article Chicago Review

Sex, Ok, the Sea Is Boundless

Academic journal article Chicago Review

Sex, Ok, the Sea Is Boundless

Article excerpt

This is quite a dress to express a beaten

body in, says your mother on the phone

with the tone of a minor psychoanalytic superstar.

Vanity requests your punctum to a violent

appointment: do not be late for tender welt,

a belt measure of care thrashed out as Spaß.

Your hands are loving and they break skin,

within, wild cats weep in a spiral Andromeda

all the way to my proletarian orgasm

mops itself off the floor. Jest

each day becomes us, and when I bust your

skin with absolute love I find your soul

splitting with toys: mechanised dancers,

bears, dolls, which clap and dance

and bat tin wings. My face breaks out

into a summer's day, fingers wind up and go.

Some souls are basins and some souls are reservoirs:

yours burst its banks and met the sea, meet me

and talk all night, in a pair of homeless lunettes,

in a ravish of violet and cream.

Sado-peripatetic love rival with free agency in E flat

is the heroine traumatised in all dreams with pieces

cut out of her. …

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