A School for Oedipus!
Forced dicks:
fish bones in pussy throats
Scaling screams soprano
Lead by the smell of fear
Instead of memory
She walks the fishborn son outside
Of girls and woman-folk lines
Then shows him how to trace
Before kindergarten teachers
Get a whiff of his pen
Abstract love affair, held together
with Mommy's summer sweat beads,
he plucks her a melody on bloody
heartstrings, screaming down her
throat words that would make a
preacher's blood curdle in disgust.
Tongues meet cheeks, like disease
searching for a lover; Her seductive
slender body, slipping into something...
"More comfortable"...like, persuasion.
Night time sends shivers down his spine,
but he isn't scared of the dark, he finds
comfort there, in the shadows, where he
feels he belongs...
He won't go inside
First girl he meets
On the perimeter is mommy
She's holding picket signs
On the borders of his dreams
He wakes with them in hand
Wet, plastered flesh candy wrappers
Lodged between pointer, and middle finger
Pictures of dismembered body parts
Lay beneath his pillow
He puts them together
At night with his glue
...when she is not around
He wants to be an artist
When he grows up
Paper Mache-ist
“Momma says women are God’s personal trees: here to root humanity.”
He finds comfort
Shade in her presence
Left-I peripheral:
He is searching for Miss Kaufman
The third grade substitute
That hugged him for being the day’s helper
He can smell ripeness on women's breast
It makes his mouth water
Subtle suggestion of romance curses
through his veins, like a drug too
strong willed to allow release.
He drowns in her perfume, submitting
his desires into female caress;
He's done the math she wanted him to do,
and he's come to the conclusion she
is his next fix of hope; he's also written
the words she required, he's scratched them
onto his arm with razor blade precision;
He speaks to her words of adult
nature, and as she rejects his love
he paints the walls with tears;
he smiles behind the water shades he
has created, and basks in the crystal eye
balls distorted vision; Taking her fragile
body in deep, with semen breath to sleep
amongst torn underwear; The doors are
thicker than his love for her, so no one
can hear lingering screams; The pictures kept
under the pillow creep back into mind...
as she lays, vulnerable, he decides to relieve
her from the pain she clearly feels...'how can
any happy person reject true love?'
Tied up, whilst gagged by fear, she dares
not speak, or even whisper... her tongue
is now swimming in blood, staining
the floor with regret; cookery class is
coming to an end, he's chopped up the
meat he'll need, and now he realizes he
has to return to his first love...Mommy.
Right-I peripheral:
She is behind closed door
Earthed by steam
Underneath a rain shower
Daydreaming with soap suds
Shooting bubbles through
A forbidden wand and whispering
Mommy holds her little devil,
rocks him to sleep with a tale from
a broke back bible, she singes the air
with a kiss, and breaths calm warmth
into his cold lungs; Miss Kaufman
is in bits over this tragedy, yet our
resident artist puts her back together again
with a caring needle, and Frankenstein's wire.
She longs to be with nature, so the forest
is a perfect place to sleep...
He leans in to show his affection, but
his living lover shy's away with winter
cold words; he twitches with pearly whites
itching for a taste of abstract art...
Mommy's throat is now an open book,
her love is leaking while her tears fall
red, like rivers of dirty waste; he
gently whispers in her ear...
“I'm sorry Mama”
She won't wake to find
Broken branches
Bearing the weight of winter
Nor leaves strewn by autumn’s gust
Not a twig of noise for forest
Animals to alert hunters
Cautiously, Mama scrubs and washes
And he watches the last tail exit the drain
Wailing downstream
"I love you enough to free you"
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Poeta - Italic
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