Confessions More or Less Spontaneous

I was the single who painted red fish

on the doors of Cipango's houses;

but not with lambs' vital fluid

as God ordains

but with varnish

to accommodate with them the pomp of what's false;

it was me in spite of the bans you'd

pronounced behind the meager city walls;

I at no time felt so fulfilled as when I painted r fish

on the doors of Cipango's houses,

all in spite of your total prohibition,

all in spite of the snare of addled eyes spying upon us

from the overlay of your city in the sky;

I don't remember where the idea came from,

it's not well known where ideas advance from,

I only remember a r ovum forming there

at the bottom,

a revolving tumor stuck to my brain like vermin

in Sardonicus.

It was a day at the exit of the movie theater,

a sad, miserable theater in the dreg of Cipango,

a non-existent theater of continuous staggers

where I'd see Mr Sardonicus,

This film was about turning a profit,

a lottery ticket and death and fear,

about real-live vampires

and those vermin too,

I don't remember a great deal of more

when I left without of fear, from black-and-white

into the colorful make open air,

with the hubbub of cruelty stuck to my pupils,

I began to perceive the idea settling in my skull's

cave

like a tumor or malignant

fetus,

it's just your imagination, I cogitation

but I believe it began feeding upon my desires,

my enormous desires,

growing inside, in sediment, organic,

viscous,

surround by dint of a luminous placenta like a fluorescent

will o' the wisp;

those desires now lit me up

in the solitary blackness of the

streets; I had to do something;

The day-star was rising

when your henchmen came on the outside to patrol

Cipango's roads

but I was well hidden;

I'd rubbed my hands all night with passion

over the Penthouse photographs

that papered my walls:

At the extremity when that paper flesh

was r morbid, varnished,

with clean hands,

you know, Your Grace,

I finally slept forever.

Copyright World poesy Incorporated Sep/Oct 1997

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