there was a little game they played that he brought to her

that he learned from Burroughs

who learned from Brion Gysin

(while living either in Paris or Tangier(while getting stoned or fucking young men(is anything really immoral if the parties involved – partaking – are enjoying it)(NO  its their right(which kills the Right) to their privacy their mutual pleasures)))

who learned from Dadaist Tristan Tzara(he always wanted to say Tarzan)

that she then shared

but his primacy was that they shared it and thoroughly enjoyed it

  

they enjoyed it more than playing Scrabble reading poetry Nin or building jigsaws

its utter randomness enthralled them  then they tried to find skeins of Order in its tumbled Chaos

                                                                                                    cut-ups

it required a book or books

pen or pencil(she preferred)

and paper

you open a book

drop your eye on either page

and write what you see

terminating the sentence where you wish

close the book

open it again

write  terminate                           

              and on and on until you determine its finished

for example
 

“the inadequacies of reason and logic

they turned through streets they didn't know

examining the earth, his compass

the close-up swirl of water

(he) was screaming

his head was a head-sized fist

the sound was bizarrely and instantly recognisable

‘I don’t want to drown the world.’

the ghastly sunwheel he could no longer see

he pushed back more strongly than he appeared

‘I’m part of the conventional crime.’

a helpful wind moved the last clinging leaves

the Tattoo

in humour and consternation

the gist of it

they had paid attention to it like a disease

it clogged (her) windpipe as she crawled

wisps of coloured swirls, crossbred Celtic-knot fractal

below through noises another sound was audible

NO written across his consciousness

‘We’re dealing with fanatics, and all fanatics are experts.’

(thats how Miévilles Kraken worked out)”

THIS TIME

 

itd be different the next time  and the next and the next

(he preferred Miller Nin and Finnegans)

then she brought a game to him she made

audio cut-ups

snatching random bits of conversation  interloping  eavesdropping 

choosing to begin to listen transcribing then backing out

she practised it awhile before unveiling it

 

she read to him what she overheard
but when she finished as was their tout of authenticity rather than admitting who the author was and their text
she admitted they were conversations she overheard and hadnt a clue who spoke

laughingly she said Anonymous  Like graffiti scrawled on bathroom partitions

he loved the idea but said he couldnt play  not accurately  not as she

she studied shorthand and typed in excess of 120 words a minute
       

his ability paled in light of her stenographic skills

nevertheless  hed try

they went to bars

had a drink to fit in

laughing they referred to this posturing as cloaking(Romulan) 
and worked the room together

though often they didnt have to leave the small table where they sat for the voices balling above the collective din and the very common indiscretion inanity of someone talking on their cellfone and seemingly oblivious that everyone could hear them
       

they jotted swatches on notepads

and when they concluded they shared

getting really good cut-ups were far more difficult than out of books

she usually bettered him

then one evening he came home very proud of himself busting his buttons!
he told her that brevity seemed likely his best bet to be effective for their audio play

Fine she said Thrill me

Think haiku he said But shorter

Okay she said  then began to laugh

he waited for her laughter to subside

it was short

he said he heard a murmur between two guys a couple aisle over from where he stood in a liquor store
murmur  murmur  murmurmurmur      murmur 

then he tuned in and overheard 
                                  . . . "hopelessly endowed" . . .

Whaddaya make of that?

         

(Genesis  1553,  Saturday,  26  3. 16)  1524,  Twosday,  29  3. 16
2332,  Twosday,  29  3. 16

when he saw the wall spattered with silent grainy black and white images

he should have looked away

he knew better 

hed seen his share of eight millimeter to know exactly what was came next

but he was disadvantaged

                       it rolled around inside his head

his dream

         when hed gone through the efforts of living his life  referring effects to his dreams

who the fuck was he to pay Admission then bitched about its content

Now Showing(its marque roped in hotwhite blinking lights)

                                                farmer pornography
compleat with a chubby virginal farm wife wearing a gingham apron over her palegreen floralprint smock

 

she looks something like a mountain glade detailed pellmell with wildflowers

a farmer in bib overalls hobnailed boots a broadrimmed straw hat coming apart at the filthy places where he grabs it

for as far as the farmer can see  to the occasional glimpses of barbwire glinting in the sunlight in the distance 

he calls it in subtitles  My Dominion

and there he does as he pleases

 

it seems by her expressions that maybe she didnt come to his Dominion willingly 

 

maybe delivered for a steep price

for stock  provisions   cash

provided to a grateful family who maybe had other daughters  and could afford to part with one

in subtitles the farmer called her his wife

she didnt wear a ring

the black and white noise crept busily at the wall like colonies of infuriated ants or bees

then spawning fluttering they coagulated into distinct images 

 

the farmer was hands-on with his wife
he had her by a shoulder and her rump and effortlessly pitched her through the shivering grey air  headlong
Mack Sennett Keystone Cops-style  through a barn wall  from outside it in

she uffdahed sprawling face down on its unkept straw-strewn floor kicking up dust like flour off a breadboard that etched her moony face in stark pantomime white-face

the farmer strode through the gaping barn doors grasped her by the ankles yanked her off the floor and spun her round like a top and erect  then when her momentum ebbed  stunningly  he grasped her by the ankles spread her legs apart and yanking her down impaled her like some circus trick gone-perverse

it ended with spittle on his chin and not-spittle matting her pubic hair and exposed belly
her garments torn away during the rutting

then there was an abrupt cut  a sliver of sheer black wall
a squid-excreted black cloud in black water(a China koan)  and when the film spasmed back to light and life the screen revealed half her face peeking around a corner of what must have been the same barn out of doors

then from behind

her still peeking  bent over
her dark eyes darting left  then right   then left    then right

  

he saw the farmer  ridiculous  sneaking tiptoed up behind her his hands readied near-shoulder width apart to clasp her

as she peeked her hips moved behind her like those of a cat readying to leap at its prey

then he watched from behind the farmer immediately behind her
he fumbles at his pants and as they fall to his booted ankles he tears her skirt and bodice apart and splits her from behind  thrusting   plying    thrusting     plyingdeepply

he cant see her face at all

its still around the corner

 

though he can see her hands clutch and despair the cornerboards in the same moment as he watches the farmers hairy ass squeeze and squeeze and squeeze to his thrusts

he tried to command his dream to come around come around comearound the corner to see her heavy tits heaveanyaw under the ruin of her clothing or perhaps joustanclap exposed

but his dream wouldnt submit

too caught up in its comic porn

October 4 AMdreaming,  2015

1549,  Monday,  28  3. 16

Naked City – Torture Garden (1990)  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ow_bB6nIiyE

awgh cross words

                          f

                          a

                          s

                          c

                          i              t    h    e    d    o    n    s

                                                

                          s             e

             

                          t    r    u    m      p     s

                                        p         o

                                        e         c

        

                                        s         i

        

      f    a    l    l    s    f    l    a    t          t         

                                                                                                                              y

  

1307,  Saturday,  26  3. 16