Please, if I sit before you and bare my legs perhaps
I am interested in something, and you must look, open
Those insipid eyes and see, it is sunset a short lapse
Of time and you will miss the reflection of redemption
On my thighs, when the shadows grow long it won’t
Be the same, yes, my cunt prefers the natural daylight
Its Stygian furs short and its lips blushing, oh don’t
Chatter on, just shut up, look at me, how many times
Need I say don’t anal fuck me, don’t poke my clit it
Hurts, so just look at me I get off if you just look at me.
It has come to the level of boring absurdity, the level
Of post-modernistic self-sexing which has all lost
Its charm, its craft, even its novelty, and I only marvel
At the flatness and sterility of it all now because those
Are all there is, where is the sweet pleasure in these?
Even nihilism has its beauty, but these, a new age thing
Of blandness and confused appropriations of Asiatic
Culture, ack! global chic! nothing could ever be so boring
No explanation or non-explanation could ever pierce
The consciousness of such bloody thick white skulls.
Fatima Lasay, San Roque
Wednesday, February 18, 2015