hmmm. working my way up through neglected posts, i find this one --
much neglected. Perhaps because it's difficult to get past the
content, to respond to the poem?
Perhaps. The last line, though, Kenneth -- all I can see is someone in
a body cast. Not what you intended, I suspect.
On 1/24/08, Kenneth Wolman <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> I dared myself to do this. It's probably as graphic as I'm ever going
> to get.
>
>
>
> PHONE SEX 2: CYRANO
>
> People call 900 numbers and pay for this--
> the genitalic equivalent of defecation.
> In both: passing relief, from the body expelling
> either toxins or the want of love,
> but the soul, too, empty at birth, returns to its void.
> You slosh alone through a desert of sticky underwear
> and hopeless sentiments.
>
> You weren't in the far-off land of the woman who drew you,
> You were right where you sat, telephonic demon luster,
> legs splayed like a vasectomy patient,
> but got to be Poet because she would
> whisper into your phone "Kiss my cunt"
> and all you had were the performative words,
> miraculous cunnilingual speech,
> to raise her breath to crying gasps.
>
> In the same Masque of Passion you would speak
> her down on you, paint a word picture
> to drive you both insane because you could
> combine Fragonard's aether with Georg Grosz's stench.
>
> But when she would speak as herself, a bid
> to raise your spirit, it was pedestrian,
> worked only because even her words were
> your private object of desire. And you,
> with secret contempt, owned a pornographer's heart,
> while all she had was loneliness and the itch
> of a body surrounded with plaster.
>
> KTW/1-24-08
>
> --
> ------------------
> Kenneth Wolman kenwolman.wordpress.com
> Abuse of power comes as no surprise--Jenny Holzer
>
--
~ SB | http://www.sbpoet.com | =^..^=
|