- Carelessantumas Moi (fatima ex machina)
careless
carelessant
cul-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac
fool-de-sac
fool-de-sac
fool-de-sac fool-de-sac fool-de-sac
fool-de-sac fool-de-sac
for la and
I carela
la
lass
Torqueing
Torqueing
obliqueing
backareless of
my
Myopic hand
I carela
and-dime-a-dozen nickel-and-dime-a-dozen nickel
and
for new
things to ...
- Sub Version (fatima ex machina)
vile is
Seething the long thing
is
Histrion of
his
Being
is
Histancestors run
redling dream box
like the
paradoxy of
his Being the earthogonals thinger her for such
Touch
Touch
Touch subversion
oh but
the
man
never her seeing
thingering the hazed
lingther
her ...
- Petition for A Perpetual Motion Machine
It has been many
years, I am older
they say wiser but
I do not have the
answer to the question of
the day, just
propositions, casual
observations, listening
to the mystery of the
earth, then smiling
amused, that the
earth still turns under
such weight you
know one shouldn’t
really care anymore as
one gets older, but
I go on, I obsess, I
probe, I hold the
oldest mysteries of the
earth in ...
- Spoken To The Colonies
I do it in
the night upon
bedtime, in the
quiet, my
hands lay
upon my womb, thereafter
my breasts, I know where
they lie, I can feel
they throb, they
squirm, they
pop, and there
is pain at times, so
I do it in
the night upon
bedtime, in
the heat of my
hands I speak
to them and
they listen
intently, for my
blood is
their blood, my
life is their
life
they are colonies rather large, ...
- Meditation Before A Fire
My soul, my very
tired soul, you
are restless, you are
angry, the
to and fro of
your anger, my
soul, it is like the
sudden death of a
sprig, the
blistering of stones
against the might of
the waves, anger
like meat burning in
the pot, a sudden
change in religion
from kindness to
defiance
too quick, too
much, too
angry, my
soul
pray
the lines in my mind are horizontal, they are at rest, between ...
- The Cloud
it was time to get a new notebook computer, I thought
it was ten in the morning the Power Mac Center looked desolate
but I always loved their minimalist interiors
sterile, like a bleeding edge hospital
I scanned the shop for the notebooks and found them
a row of MacBook Pro and MacBook Air lovely
and I already knew what I ...
- The Wireless Pig
Her manner was most beguiling
this woman who, by her appearance
could not possibly have access to technology like ours
clothes she had woven from bark and fibre
shoes donated for flood victims
busy texting on my iPhone
she caught my attention she started talking
about the man getting on the boat she spoke
slowly, visibly disturbed, despondent
a porky-looking man walking towards the ...
- Run
Running away does me good even if the pains and desires remain, it keeps me occupied, busy, folding and unfolding this dress, getting haircuts in different places, the many ways my skin responds to soft water here and hard water elsewhere, the scent of laundry, of sheets, of different beds, the visibility of the stars ...
- When I grew up, and fell in love
When I grew up, and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart, “What lies ahead?
Will we have rainbows, day after day?”
Here’s what my sweetheart said
“Que Será, Será” (1956) Livingston, Jay / Evans, Ray
MANILA – An unidentified woman was found dead in an apartment Thursday with a stuffed dog wrapped tightly around her neck. The body, police ...
- Prayer Before Hanging
Here, the light has a different cast, it is deep, a struggler through the buildings and the smog of the city, it is easily forgotten amidst electric lights, and while this world is not unfamiliar to me (your name), its rare natural light is a recent discovery, a silent but faithful companion in my little ...
- The guanyin cries please touch me not break me
Tonight I can declare with this my voice of experience that it is sad being the guanyin, for as you may slightly be aware of, I have been sitting it out and containing myself, at times unsuccessfully, with the old man, I have endured many years and yes I am still here, still alive, knowing ...
- Whatever Happens, F-, Forget the Blood
To suppress this growing craving for blood, I consider the many distractions that would generally go unnoticed, for it is better to receive such things than to let the mind go jogging until one’s hands are soaked in red, it is civil certainly, to sit and write and listen to casual crooning, like the voice ...
- White Fag Black Shag
Ay! what might tempt this old white man when all old white men begin to stink, to frazzle and certainly to become such yawning bores that go on and on about their youthful exploits, about the same old things, about what could have been, about the same such things that consequently rule them and make ...
- The Madonna of the Rocks
Of all the faethers growing against the grain of God’s teeth, I am perhaps the most privileged, for to begin with my gift of madness is pure, it is not the result of shellshock or incest or the abuse of solvents, spirits and cough syrup, it is not an outcome of extreme poverty, hunger, sickness ...
- These Days in Beauty
The window curtains are for my own amusement, they are sheer and light and move with the slightest wind, and so they are like flags that make this room look rather stately, they flutter against the ceiling when the sea breeze comes and that eases the mind’s sadness, it is a bit like watching the ...
- Walk Me Lightly in the Easy Daydream
Where was I? Oh yes the dream of a pig rooting in the woods, sleep is a little better lately with some wort in the coffee so the winds blow less wildly in the mind, there is less chatter, less flickering of these teary eyes, I try to take walks now too so I am ...
- The Temptation of an Old Man
How perilous these sultry afternoons to my complacency! Here, now, my husband, so dirty from work in the fields, chatting about this and that, as sweat drips down my side, moistens my forehead and the top of my lip, my chin, my neck, lightly seeping into the dress I pleasured myself in this morning, my ...
- The Next Encampment
Most early waking this morning, my body still floating in a haze of the growing daylight, of a jumble of thoughts and feelings, my husband stirs beside me, well rested I hope so we could fuck, he reaches out to touch me and the luminous shell of my body breaks, like the black patch of ...
- The Dream of a Pig in the Woods
It is not so uncommon these days sitting on the balcony eyes darting from the cup on the table to the woven patterns on the wall, the floorboards and the straight lines from these to the corner to the wooden sticks behind the beams of the roof, while my mind wrestles with fluttering wings of ...
- Country Bumpkin Blues
Human trails of city slickerin livin, kinda orderly now than just four or so years ago
Pavements moltin under the mornin sun, peddlers of all sorts, old and kid peddlers
Peddlin plastic junk, plastic food, rice cakes, fresh boiled peanuts, flowerin orchids
Traffic worker beckons peddlers outta the way, he goes to a 8 year old girl like ...
- Dance, Haze, Faded
The body curved rising from the haze. Like a ravine, tenuous, light.
She tapped barefoot on the ground. Set the pace, rhythm, cadence.
It was slow starting and rising. It was tense, nervous, surrender.
But the heat of the midday calmed her. Sweat flowed, curved, cooled.
Their eyes met for a moment. She lifted the hem of her dress.
The ...
- The Reflection
There is little chance for reflection now. Other than the reflection of faces.
I have known since the day of my birth. A cool distraction from my isolation.
And the faces I’ve known as friends. Have disappeared into their worlds.
Of shop-bought concerns, of busyness. There be no time, be no chance.
When did I ever see it? The ...
- The Invisible Woman
He lifted the dress from the drawer. It was a long black polyester garment decorated with laser cut-outs across the shoulders and all around the skirt. The skirt lining glistened underneath and drew out the curly patterns of the matted cut-out fabric.
Lyla looked on as her father pressed the dress to his body, smoothing the ...
- The Other Man
I got myself some make-up, lipstick and kohl, because I thought that I could make me pretty again, and feel pretty again, and some lovely dresses, like when I was younger, over a decade ago when I was free, when I met a man who seduced my mind and body, but I settled down too ...
- The Angel (from “The Island”)
when I met him for the first time
he was this enormous wild beast
I let him stay with me in
that lovely house along the Mercier de Moulin
it was midnight, the end of winter
he walked all the way from
the train station
I opened the door, and there I saw him
for the first time
he took off his hat, shook ...