twofer’s island
(‘princess of the cookie cutters!’ – Mailer)
is goddess of
gaps, what kindness, greenness might taste
like a million years hence. waste.
‘giants all covered with
iron’, prophecy foretold, enchant-
ment-reinstating protocol
overridden, silence aglow with stars.
believe it!
twilight ferry crossed
the Styx, liberty
gave great-grandmother heebie-jeebies. to write
that Manhatta
is no Onogoro is no
overstatement. The indigo’d
deep-dawn-light plays black and
white in reel time. our protagonist gen-
erated duplicate daughters,
resisting image distortion. Pluto,
Izanami -
‘hindered characters’ -
connect in the pre-
sent psyche like strands of silver filigree,
so it’s possi-
ble nowadays for the female
to sing salaams before the male.
yet these ‘twisted torcs and
gold new-moon-shaped’ thoughts aren’t displayed to
best effect; I speak long after
the fact. Adept at deconstruction, I’m
analyst,
reviewer. I shall
sit here, mass produ-
cing confections for frenemies, catalyst
for vitriol,
sender of shikome for souls
of inconstant rigmarole-
spewing amours. I sit
on the gilded throne of a skyscraper
penthouse with marvellous granite
sunset views. Whither civilization,
or its bent
antithesis? I know
I’m hollow, fill me -
I’m ‘Asiatic’, ‘Feminist’, discontent.
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- Published:
- January 20, 2012 / 3:37 am
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