Saturday, December 25, 2010

Pathetic Male Fantasy #11,196

.

I want to see her polite smile drop
like groceries
through the bottom of a wet paper bag

her self portrait stretched so tight
the canvas tension
covers the room
covers her mouth
when she happens to laugh
never uses words like: retard

she's postured like a lamp post
as polite as an offered coat
a held open door
her hair neat
back straight
legs crossed

and I don't believe
even one little bit of it

because I saw
where I wasn't supposed to
a flow of brushstrokes
swirling in the slightest of smirks
cheeky
eyes darting fire like mice
to another corner
the edges of this canvas
where the staples strain
for satiation against the frame

She has an appetite for more colours
a whole other spectrum denied
under the layers of paint she's applied
I want to scrape them back
get out my trowel
and move it under her vowels
to hear less perfection
in her deliberate inflection

remove some of those
excess layers
peel back past dried pigments
get at those parts cracked

help her
rend-her
another picture
sketchy and textured
blotches and blurs
excess' dripping down her canvas face
uncomposed and untastefully framed

an image not an image
of her at all
she comes off the wall
where you can hear her groan
burp with a reverb
swear like a fucken sailor
sense her getting shitty
smell her stale and gritty
feel the fuzz of bodyhair
salty, sweaty and where
you can hear her use the word


cunt


like she knows how to use it

because
beneath her painted state
beyond the beautiful
pallid and composed
she's all baroque
and I know
she knows



how to use that word.




__________________________


This had an alternative title: Portrayal. It had that title over the other right until the point I was actually typing this bit now, when I just finally bit the bullet and swapped them. The 'male fanstasy' title is of course more honest, and better packages the product, although probably won't win me any friends on either side of the gender line. What can I say? You got me.

I should grow up, but we all know I won't.

Incidentally, the number 11,196 is today the number of days I've been alive. Groovy

-25/12/2010






-Peace






.

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