Posted by KID A on June 19, 2004, at 13:31:41
this poem is coprywrit 2004, Alan Michael Kulchak, Michael Mattz, Michael McCarthy, Future Ink. No part of it may be reproduced or quoted except in review form without consent from the author. amkultra@hotmail.com
Your reading this consents to the acceptance of the language and usages of words contained herin, and your clicking on this link has brough you here, light ahab to that damned white whale, to sink all coffins to one common pool.
You had been warned.
The Immaculate Seizure
Myself, & what I can claim it to be, crawled out
of my mother’s uterus, & a horror lifted
me from it, some ignoble beast witnessed
trepidations, pathetic twitching, &
there for, what certainly was not crawling---
but writhing, like a snake spitting into
the damning-laughing lamplights
AND therefore, could not speak
only hiss hiss hiss it’s
rowing in the flood of blood
the love burst, oh
of damnations
of MOTHERFUCKERS
of complications
of ne’re do wells
of ghastly irretrievables
of myself
and it was this duplicitous masturbation
that brought and kept me here
the foul stench of muzzle smoke
of stomached medicines
that jism that coated my
infantile tongue
naming me, marking me
sonny boy?
a sally--- lassie? surely
twisting up M’s insides…
so that Only I was inside, scratching
my rude & fleshy fat belly, in waiting---
waiting, in the common verity of tramps
like tramps that wait to be spat,
spat out of a God’s eye, like a tear
but not so much a tear, no, moreso like
a wince from an Onion
a tear from the stench of Onions,
Onions, to make you retch
AND YET! I did survive all of that
& the boring of the in betweens
that some called a History
and I am here writing this,
yes, this now, but
no, this--- this is Writhing---
These lines, crawling out
of my hands like
conqueror worms,
snakes, temptations
to amaze, to disappoint
you, poor reader
to have come here
to this closure,
Worse than before
because--- because
there is nothing here
& it was never here,
nor was there
ever the promise
nor hope, nor lies made,
nor the lure of it
being here.
Straight from those foul cunts,
Oh you stupefied cunt-born fools,
I never promised you
anything.
June 16, 2004
poster:KID A
thread:358107
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20040320/msgs/358107.html