I.
how much time passes
crawling through
the essence of a thing?

at the nearest gate
nothing opens up—

outside,
striations & ringforms
reflect geologic age,
birth & all matter
witnessed
thru the eyes
of a womxn
pulsing her hips
up & down
sunbathing
from inside the egg
invisible to naked eyes —

every womxn knows
at times i am nothing
but production—

w/o a mouth
organ / opening

taste something

a rift on the tongue

climax, bliss

& from the bottom
of a whirlpool
you pop up like a cork
writhing,
arrhythmic—

​

II.
enter through a parted lip
dual mother

O animus

what imagination
designs the monolith

constraining our desires?

aesthetics narrate conditions:
the monochromatic
experience
of civilization

O phallus of

the present moment

O looming polygon —

i call this a form
of coercion
a kind of hardening

& mean to say
the insidious machination
lacks rhythm,
opposes curvature—

i am talking about
the anti-lyric apparatus,
chainlink father / tower,

shrouded in fog
womb isolated from
anti-womb

our lips pressed
together