deepundergroundpoetry.com
CARTESIAN SKIN
He collected the dead skin
Of the students he fucked
In a male-order specimen jar,
Spooned bi female forceps.
A priori primed to seduce
Lonely nineteen year old
Fireflies, waiting for the night
To invite passengers to board
The half-past all the way.
He often dreamt of the Berlin Boy
Clandestine skin licks in Stasilands,
Snowed meditations under armed
Arched lights of Oberbaum Bridge,
Sonntagstrasse schnitzel tasted of cock
Feet turned to puddles, soaked groins,
Dialectic of love lust rain:
East met West in de Sade deluge.
He joined tattooed front of German Army.
Rough trade winds blew the letter in
Last thrill and testament to sex crime:
Dear Professor, a matter of gravest concern.
He shook the jar as an arid snow globe
Flesh flecks took flight, entombed
In glassed confine, missives secreted
In tomes of Ancient Greece & the slim
‘Nubile Aesthetics for the Modern Man.’
Lucretia in burning library leather
Tilted concrete sails toward Republic.
Scribbled post-it note upon his alphadesk:
p.s. I’d like you to like me to like you.
As fireweed splays woodlands
Postcards distend from lectured walls,
Arrival~Departure frieze of human (con)dition.
He often dreamt of the Madrid senorita
Picasso nosed, juiced lips exhaling rose
Window breath, shutters open wide.
Sprawled across sunset veranda
As strings sprung from two guitars.
In octagon mirrors of Prado café
Seven and one reflections of her beauty
To tease transcend tantalise:
In that moment,
It was not God dead
But philosophy.
Then one day it happened:
She stopped returning his calls.
A career in ashes,
An ode to a deviant urn.
Of the students he fucked
In a male-order specimen jar,
Spooned bi female forceps.
A priori primed to seduce
Lonely nineteen year old
Fireflies, waiting for the night
To invite passengers to board
The half-past all the way.
He often dreamt of the Berlin Boy
Clandestine skin licks in Stasilands,
Snowed meditations under armed
Arched lights of Oberbaum Bridge,
Sonntagstrasse schnitzel tasted of cock
Feet turned to puddles, soaked groins,
Dialectic of love lust rain:
East met West in de Sade deluge.
He joined tattooed front of German Army.
Rough trade winds blew the letter in
Last thrill and testament to sex crime:
Dear Professor, a matter of gravest concern.
He shook the jar as an arid snow globe
Flesh flecks took flight, entombed
In glassed confine, missives secreted
In tomes of Ancient Greece & the slim
‘Nubile Aesthetics for the Modern Man.’
Lucretia in burning library leather
Tilted concrete sails toward Republic.
Scribbled post-it note upon his alphadesk:
p.s. I’d like you to like me to like you.
As fireweed splays woodlands
Postcards distend from lectured walls,
Arrival~Departure frieze of human (con)dition.
He often dreamt of the Madrid senorita
Picasso nosed, juiced lips exhaling rose
Window breath, shutters open wide.
Sprawled across sunset veranda
As strings sprung from two guitars.
In octagon mirrors of Prado café
Seven and one reflections of her beauty
To tease transcend tantalise:
In that moment,
It was not God dead
But philosophy.
Then one day it happened:
She stopped returning his calls.
A career in ashes,
An ode to a deviant urn.
Published 27th May 2020
Author's Note
Umanoid xx Edited version of my last scribble. Loosely based on 1 of my lecturers back in the day. ALL PLEASE STAY SAFE
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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you are breathlessly ultimate in the dark thematics.. the in & out of manic blackgreys in all threir goriness .. feels an acumen dissecting tool of literary pychoanalysis in your ace metaphoric realms.. true to the tag, the #nonfiction, they say truth is stranger than fiction, but yes yet the last two lines are stark reminders of the karma striking back, truth ever triumps over the lies & hypocrisies & all arrogant spiralling up of testostrones & power & whatnots.. unto the pathetic burial graveyards... a different streak of black in ERULGCT & yes an uncomfortable & difficult light over the real & virtual life hypocrites ..until they are torched by their own filths.. Juzme doodah.. write on shine on :) Love me xx
