Friday, April 8, 2011

Fat Sally


the rattle of the yak bone chimes 12 o'clock in the evening 

the castafiore (the chaste flower) blooms upon the hour 
knee deep in a hurricane with red eyes off yonder somewhere 
to the east and the pleasures of a simulated empire 

and she trudges through the spice fields and universal aids 
marking her territory with musk and perfume from scent glands that sleep between her legs that are castoffs of bamboo temples in a jungle near saigon 

she tightrope walks on stilts made of ivory fastened with gold 
stripped from the tusks of mastodons that raped women in universal nightmares - cocks posable and deadly as the russel viper - moist 

minutes shrink by hasted by coca leaves and magic mushrooms 
spirals of colour tangle together before the eyes of mysterious union 
she hallucinates and her visions are the work of some dark poison 
fathers of time study her body and tell the world how to grow 

and over the stroke of the dawn the heart palpitations of the devote stop 
they dissolve into wet green grass that stains her thighs the same 
when she goes home her rump will be covered in dirt and she will have lost her panties and some plants and animals will have pollinated her and left 
saplings to prey upon her body, making succulent fruits develop inside 
then when arms and legs sprout like the heads of eyes on a potato 
and some merciless drum howls from a stone dais reading the sun 
nurturing the small facts of life that have no sense of smell 
but know that the time is ripe and the leaves are turning gold to brown 
then the fear of enclosed spaces unsheathes itself like a phallus 
where the pink head of embarrassment cleaves young people in two 
there shall be imprints left on the soft flesh of internal walls 
purple stains tattooing the empty sides of pickled limbs 

sometime a light will seizure into existence 
extinguishing everything else 
there will be a smack of tears 
a horrible cry 
and some cessation of the fear 
that none of us can remember 
and clastafiore shall be chaste no more 
as the time becomes one o'clock

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