The Figure (601-650)

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the figure

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from The Figure (601-650)

Fig. 601 It is during this Time, that I am unapologetically Ill, sinking into the Fringe elements of what it was that propelled me into this thinking “I’m Terminally, a Recluse”, which is thumbing me down, closer-stills The Face, pressed-against the Window, which Frames the view-frames me beyond this Room, this City, viginetting all over my frightening Enormity

Fig. 602 The Terrain of Chicago, in Winter, reminds me of your Body: milky, glass-flat, puffed to a whitening Fat so-and-so Parched & increasingly divided.

Fig. 603 There is a distinct Impressions, a lulling-in Science or maybe, a sinister-magic, at which (*I) work the doldrums // the Perverse Privacy of my Hotel Room

Fig. 604 The lowly-lull of the sun-tints me to this Memory: Your Body, unclothed a pale-pink, contrasting-against my blue-balls shadowing-you as bright as ever I could remember

Fig. 605 Resting my Chin on your Thigh looking-through the Window: all that Snow // & all that Snow, itself

Fig. 606 My Little Pigeon & Meat Subject

Fig. 607 To Embody The Body: The world’s-convert within the inverted-exerted towards The Body’s (shifty) Accomplice

Fig. 608 That Long Sad Night along The Des Plaines River

Fig. 609 Here, a Cock ate itself. A Cock ate itself & in eating itself (in-it, *I) donned a Cock-Clone. The Cock-Clone burns from the thought “I am not like those other Cocks” & here the Cock burst in one Hell of a Song

Fig. 610 *This Bursts into an amazing picture of me, in a purple thong & glistening (but of course)

Fig. 611 The Movement of your “GO” mutes into everything only Shits the World in your mouth-zippers to a Silence against all those other-fucking Others & their talking-fucking like the Body in trunks shoved in the Trunk

Fig. 612 That Year, I had invented an Image of your Body in which its ear-sings in my own Ears, roared into a slippery-purr

Fig. 613 Your Body’s Image, lapsed, became a mere Silhouette in my Mind, as it foraged for Thy Scent under the foot which steps-up your Collapse

Fig. 614 The Silhouette of your (gross) Body (image) grew large as it spilled from my Mouth which absorbed the Details of our first 4 Years & this Movement was called “The Bitch, that Blurred” as it did when it stirred

Fig. 615 Where was it, that I hid my hidden Head—[?]

Fig. 616 The Force of a will to Fail wherein such an attainment would unfill our Bellies without resorting to an encumbering Paradox

Fig. 617 & All that Pussy waving above me “Goodbye, Goodbye—[!]”

Fig. 618 How fucking-stupid, your attempting to recover all that lost Humanity

Fig. 619 In Summation: You’re fucking me-in the rough//ROUGH

Fig. 620 History always recurs in clusters by throwing Bones on one another

Fig. 621 I am so convinced by the Joy in your Face, that I begin to think “Yes yes, laugh it up // those Jowls will one Day form-you into my Beautiful Scowl”

Fig. 622 Last Night, in the oppressive White Interior of our Home, I interviewed You about the Death of our only Son

Fig. 623 Everything, everything was perfectly still you were Ill

Fig. 624 The Body, twas // only my Last // Great Stunt

Fig. 625 I had moved-more towards an ankling now deep-in the Moral “pucker-up, Baby I’ve got the feels” & rather unashamed, so here I explains: If (as, if) I cannot infer what Exists // then I’ll STOP talking, *now shall be Thy Greatest Resist

Fig. 626 Shit, even a Dog knows be *this

Fig. 627 I will be your late-night Bum Opera

Fig. 628 My darkening Hands, will open, will then Grasp, will then Tighten, to Command our steering amongst those in the Gangland

Fig. 629 At Night, your heavy-heavy Body was thrown against-to the Floor (& You were not alright)

Fig. 630 It is an accomplishment, which reared (How I reared) upon the Lines in your Face, exceeding even their own grasp of your Lips go dancing around // they Go dancing-right’ Round

Fig. 631 I almost expect the Earth to move, to shift as (Jail) Cells do when they touch another to pass (or how we divided) but I cannot shake the cold-reality of their Faces twisting in their body-shivering right-through when their Plane falls to thunder-upon our Field

Fig. 632 Our Agony shows Time to-slow as if, a tickling-ticking Clock & in a quiet-quiet House, I am sitting alone, in the Dark, with my finger-cocked

Fig. 633 The Shaft of Light, widens, then thins-in to a stretching over the Bed was only Thy Cock

Fig. 634 It wasn’t until 10 Years past, that I realized we were engaging in one Hell of an Incoherent Game

Fig. 635 We waited in that Alley & We watched all Night, although, what We were there to See, we never did-see

Fig. 636 Don’t You worry-don’t You go to Sleep now

Fig. 637 Dear God, I’VE NEVER SEEN YOUR BUTTHOLE—[!]

Fig. 638 The Moment *this is uttered, The Scene truly begins to GASP (gasping-open) to a Lake, then a Field, then a Body, then a honed-in Horror of a Face buried in the Soot

Fig. 639 Each Day, I set to pack-in my Skin, another Sassy Distortion

Fig. 640 There was something rather Delicious about being Exiled

Fig. 641 For 5 Years, I had only Thought about getting-up-in-ya, sadly when my Quest came to an End, I saw that it had only been a Climb towards something rather Platitudinous

Fig. 642 On the Corner of your Lips, I’m about to Shout that which would drive us both Insane

Fig. 643 Can We presume, that *this was not a Dream, but rather something cold-smacks The Face into a submerging of the endless self-erasing Descriptions of the same-ol // same-ol Self shall emerge as something marvelously New—[?]

Fig. 644 “Mmm-hmmm”, She said “Mmm-hmmm”, wasn’t really what She said

Fig. 645 You said “This will-be // or else-to Throw Up”

Fig. 646 That is how *this All could have Began

Fig. 647 Remember: There will be no Talking // There will be no Tenderness // There will-be Pleasure

Fig. 648 Each Night, as you are laying in Bed, another Catastrophe comes towards You, jiggling-around You ascends-you, slyly in a posthumous Slope

Fig. 649 NOTICE: “For the Period of Thirty Chews, after the receipt of appropriate Notice (how I am undefined) // the Party (as well, as a whole, not-specified) shall attempt in that Good Faith (of which, I haven’t a Care, left) to resolve whatever bodily-dispute has (Evidently, I have) Arisen (to // Rose) by employing-pressure upon the (Body, shall) advance-meal-measurements (of which, I) approach, which concerns a given (to, Thy) Event’s production, as it Tumbles (upon) the lap of Someone who is in some-body IS shoveling-it // in”

Fig. 650 “A’ moving-towards a The Great Defenestration is not so far removed from the Moral of this Project