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the figure
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from The Figure (251-300)
Fig. 251 The Sun was up & each gesture was cold on each side of the Body
Fig. 252 The Screaming affectation of your Sleep
Fig. 253 Go back to talking about Consumption; You couldn’t do anything else with your Body
Fig. 254 Just a Face wrapped in an over-sized Overcoat, an addition of a corner, itself of a perspective, means to corner a ‘person’ into a place, framed the position magnified, twice
Fig. 255 Leaning the Body back, into every delicate turn to turning back
Fig. 256 Meaning, this’ll end Twice
Fig. 257 Against *this is a Seduction
Fig. 258 The Face is a Land[e]scape that can be described, but never fucking Conquered
Fig. 259 Oh that meaning-to-exit: I’ve held it in my arms for years & years
Fig. 260 To Fall, becomes a means to advance, furiously
Fig. 261 They’re too concerned with Art to be very attractive
Fig. 262 assvalanche
Fig. 263 When I’m around you, I can’t help myself, seeing all of these things dying, the beat of the Train, the whispering of all that much muck at Dawn
Fig. 264 It seems important to make important things hurt
Fig. 265 Lordy I shall not rest until I’m stinking all over the Body of your first Body
Fig. 266 The City subjects itself to my Cruelty “You cannot outgrow me // this a foregone Conclusion // to stranger myself within You // until you wipe your Mouth right out of my Hands”
Fig. 267 *This is my Hunger Striking
Fig. 268 It isn’t the Wind I’m whistling in your Skin
Fig. 269 To slow down, to keep the rhythm lines with her rhythm
Fig. 270 That Beautiful // Girl some // where else // where // holding // here
Fig. 271 When I finally *Go, I will go very far-away
Fig. 272 I will meatpack you all up in my greaseball fuckery
Fig. 273 When Language fails, language fails, that’s it
Fig. 274 Say Adieu to that look in my Face Say Adieu to that whole Body behind you Say Adieu to the Soil & let’s fucking begin again
Fig. 275 Each day’s narration leaves less & less so I says goodbyes’to’ya
Fig. 276 Maybe it’s wrong to claim your Body as a Place I come to cement my celebration
Fig. 277 Your Voice is like a warm & cozy Muzzle
Fig. 278 Slipping the Body all over that Verb verging on the version reverbing on your chin versus curb
Fig. 279 All that Weight I gained all alone
Fig. 280 *This Document of your Body smells quite perspicuous if you ask my terrain, turning to a dressing to a nose up-turned in a flaw
Fig. 281 I am so tired of talking so tiredly
Fig. 282 The Collapsing of a subject is a constraint upon the Body to know “well lookie here, I just soiled myself” is a direct consequence of the relation: Adieu to *You
Fig. 283 And // you please // me coming // from behind // my pole // felt // so light
Fig. 284 To cut right-into that ecstatic laughter “your Voice, against mine”
Fig. 285 To Face up to, To Face on to, To Face down, To Face adoration’s frailty, To Face this enactment, To Face this opposite faced, To Face, frankly is to displace
Fig. 286 There are many things drawn-upon my Face, on the opposite side, there are many things desired, across, a scar cutting-right-through, to evoke a false Humility which really would serve as a means to enrapture my Captures
Fig. 287 Fucking is no longer Monumental
Fig. 288 All these // Bodies appear // pressed into // my Face // is to face // my Heart // embrace
Fig. 289 In the instance of an open door, there is a Body departing that precedes its steps precedes me receding
Fig. 290 Sometimes, a City symbolizes film. That fucking filthy film left on your fingertips, smudged into your palm, after holding onto a pole on a Train. Or, that film that encases your entire Body in a City when it has consistency in it’s Weather, that leaves you day-in & day-out in a film of unease, in a sensation that recalls in your mind an atmosphere out of The Twilight Zone. There is not enough alcohol that one could consume to learn to adapt to such film & washing your Hands, that City to your back, you finally departed & thought “The Weather won’t be the same ever again”
Fig. 291 *This becomes the construction of a Body, that cannot be defined, that cannot be trespassed, that cannot be Violated for the very fact----------->it rumbles within it’s own limits erase limits
Fig. 292 Laughing, Crying, Screaming “Manino, Oh my deardear Manino”
Fig. 293 What exactly is “in” the Body that needs to be kept “in” the Body denominates my bed of Meat—[?]
Fig. 294 Isn’t the gestural now more of a lisp—[?]
Fig. 295 Bring me back to that Song that’ll signal within, that joke of a break-down
Fig. 296 From the moment we met, it was clear that our Morals would be removed altogether & so we walked arm in “arm” fucking right-on-in the Night, paraded upon our Youths shanked in the alleys against the backdrop of the City’s misery. We drank until we couldn’t drink another drop & so we drank some more & sang of the dawning cadence of how fucking ugly we were when searching like dogs through the cockfuckery of ourselves sheathed in weakness.
Fig. 297 That canal was very form-fitting
Fig. 298 & all that dancing that ensued after that big fucking failure
Fig. 299 Some of those Years were lost Years moving into a bad case of Theater left a bad taste
Fig. 300 My oh mymymy how your words bite upon my thighs sigh
