Consumption (edit)

This too is actually not a piece of writing, but also a video project on YouTube.

Consumption (edit)

New York Cincinnati Banal Conversation (Culture Drop mix)

This actually isn't a piece of writing, but a video piece I did once and is on YouTube.

New York Cincinnati Banal Conversation (Culture Drop mix)

Right About the Bend at the Dogwood Tree

Little Jimmy ran on down towards the gas station

Down the dirt road from his home to the store

To buy some sticks of sweet candy he loved

Right about the bend at the dogwood tree

Little Jimmy ran straight on into suave Marie

She stood there with the sun shining high behind her

The dust from the road all stirred up on her stockings

“Little Jimmy, little Jimmy, why you runnin’ down here?”

She crooned as he stopped and stared at her hard

From the tops of her shoulders right down to her knees

Was a deep blue dress as dark as could be

“To the store, Ms. Marie, to get me my treat!”

“Oh Jimmy, oh Jimmy, you’ve no need to buy that

Come on down to my place and I’ll get you a snack

Free of charge, free from me, as sweet as can be!”

She ran from that tree, through the field, and looked back

Little Jimmy followed hard but a foot from her heels

They ran on through the woods, past the hills

Until they stopped winded at the porch to Marie’s

Feet slapping on wood they’d came to a halt

And she grabbed Jimmy’s hand, dove through the door

Past the hallway, past the den, and into her kitchen

Marie came up short and gave Jimmy a chair

“Now you just wait here while I get in the pantry

And dig up that sweet snack that’s tickled your fancy”

Jimmy sat and he waited as he heard a great clatter

He toyed with a knife left out on the counter

And his hunger grew deeper and thicker

“Oh Jimmy, come here,” he heard from the pantry

“I just can’t get this damn snack down from here!”

He put the knife down and leapt to the larder

Marie’s deep blue dress lay down on the floor, unattended

And there in the back, by the shelves with some jars

She stood in her stockings and dusty black shoes

Hair falling vermillion past her ears and her shoulders

He stared at her wondering, lost in supple confusion

Syrup spilled down her breasts, past her belly to her pussy

“Little Jimmy, oh Jimmy, I’ve found your sweet succor

But it slipped and it spilled through the neck of my dress,

If you want, you can have it, but have it off me”

Jimmy picked up her dress and sniffed it for syrup

Found none, threw it down, and jumped on Marie

Ran his tongue ‘cross her chest and down ‘round her belly

Pushing back, pushing hard, she was sweeter than jelly

She squealed, held him close, leaned back on the shelves

Jimmy slipped, held her tight, and pushed on her harder

From her back came a snap and a crash all a sudden

Marie gasped suddenly, felt a rush and penetration

Jimmy licked, tasted blood, pulled back in concern

Saw the wood through her chest, making syrup vermilion

He backed through the door and ran from her pantry

Poor Marie stood there dazed, morose in her stockings

Slowly slid off the wood that stuck from her bosom

Wandering all alone, dripping blood through the kitchen

She knocked some eggs from the counter and got to the phone

Called an ambulance and slumped down to the floor

Waiting all dusty in her shoes and red stockings

Canopic Jars

My organs were displaced by you, one by one
Set aside, measured and weighed for different qualities
Like some feminine Anubis you quantified them:
"This one tubercular, this one sweet"
A saccharine death in every ounce put upon your scales
I felt every pulse dwindling in them, one by one
As they were left to be stored in my mind's canopic jars
Sealed with a lock and key so dense I could not swallow them
Even if I had the stomach for it

The Blister

While I wasn't looking a blister sprouted on my right big toe
Thick with pus like murky water, turgid
On the ridge of the joint, stiff with skin and hair

I took a needle to the blister, lanced it
Watched the ichor spill into the ridges and down the side

Clear of filth the wound stared back into my eyes
A sickly white flesh revealed beneath
Rotten like a fish left out beneath a Southern sun

Lacking the taut blister skin to hold the rot together
Slowly the pit spread back from itself and split
Down to the bone holding the blasted thing together
Stretching slowly to the bottom of my toe
Until its sweet putrescence rest in two

If I Would Wish

To make ripples

To ripple through the eons

To smack up hard against the back side of the universe

Like a sordid piece of chicken, raw

Would a bodhisattva hear me?

Or laugh with a clanging of necklaces and bracelets

While I sank into a boggy mire

Clutching the blossom of a lotus to my chest