deadly repetition revolves around coitus
forgive us of the harm we may do

slain identity giving birth to blunt negation
nothing but scorn and oblivion after we die

primal fantasies converge on abjection
tears and bramble will accompany the fucking

sperm does its work much too quietly
no matter how much excess we shall never

interpretive bursting forever incomplete
let's change places we'll all come together

mother's body amply clear with fantasy
the breeze, the collapsing world, rock

one of horror and suffering perverted by religious sublimation
so many blistered, lunatic warblers, endlessly down yr throat

*

it's these small things make my mother proud
incest turned inside out scorching

there is something in me, a scoundrel
stirred by epiphenomena tapped and rationalized

headless as long as the iron squeals of flesh
three shakes of the ass and there it is

the color of holding everything symbolic
swelling up, the midget in my asshole

a man hires a whore only to spit in his mouth
goya or bosch i belong to an unclean thing

a double disposition piercing its own structure
under the subway a carnivalesque war

on the cliffside climb the steps of semen to the brain
let them rot stink ooze guts ripped out by hand

*

i am the murderer the fellinian equivalent of dante
narrator is neither, taking part in assaults, brutalizations

violence in caverns orgies in subways
steam rising from the cracks in the asphalt

his mouth full of big gobs of crimson
the madman is such a small part of the tale

orgy that has shifted into murder
the sheer messiness of barbies room

slit guzzled slick with actual vomit
though remaining stiff as a tower

struggling between the bodies of two women
the psychoanalytic relation around any signifier

advocating conversion of the beautiful
when he finishes kissing his mother, he forces her to shit

*

sex and death are the only subjects mysterious enough
cutting back or absorbing impure animals

you are clutching the sickle, give the final stroke
the human corpse has several mouths of nonbody

some pleasure houses will forsake brute fuck
blurred between the inanimate and inorganic

round those sovriegn limits open to the air
a transitional swarming of unclean lips

allow this to occur until the ejaculate is spent
murderous clits are a dietary anchoring

shove yr cock to the very bottom of my womb
disquieting matter inseparable lining of human nature

he is hanged but does not die, the cord breaks
immediately buried indistinguishable from the symbolic

*

who stayed with lepers and bathed their wounds
there are thorns everywhere doubling the pleasure

transgressing feminine temptation
fucking ceaselessly inside the confessional

abomination of corpses
desire lays like a bodiless body

infantile imagination of the feminine sex
the most promiscuous move of all

remembered the anal penis, to be suppressed
waving goodbye from flesh pinned to the wall

vigorously threatened by the excremental and the menstrual
cartridges into each orifice trapdoor fuck

prohibiting a filthy defiling element
let's hope that people will open their eyes

*

in the bedroom i sniffed the remains
and yet georges bataille remains the only one

burn him, bite him, scratch until he ejaculates
excluded as a possible object

closed eyelids, dismembered relatives, kisses
touched short the temptation to return

soak yr mound in brandy and light, light
a veil over primary narcissism

down my throat with both hands, hoping
uncertain fragile threatened subjected

subjectile against the ears of the other
admit to rotten drained or blocked

her wrists pressed against macerated limb portals
the body finding discreetness of interchangeable units