The atrocious loneliness of that monster!

 


The chicken becomes sort of pink

Pink monster refusing to die 

It should be forbidden to leave some/one/thing half-dead

Half-cooked chicken, a one-winged angel

don't leave food on your plate

our parents used to say


Then what is it that not-too-salted not-too-sweet thing 

Not-too-excessive not-too-beautiful not-too-ravishing not-too-nothing?

Something edgy without being too edgy 


I had enough of this; I said. A mouthful of paradoxes 

A staggering story that keeps repeating 

Each time I hold something that looks like a hand

Each time it scratches the surface of a placenta 

Generating crevices, a boreal image where always

Always 

All- ways 

Something seeps in 

Maybe a hand, maybe the glove that keeps warm and protects 

Maybe your Polysteron 250- an incipient form of all sexes

A generic multi-functional organ we can use for digging into the fertile permafrost

Where I keep my 2000-years-old love-hate viruses

We don’t know how long it is going to take 

Until the end 

And 

How big and how fulminant is the end

Or if the distance between 11:59 and 00:00 that minute!

Is the birth of fear, the surge of all sins that followed, a flickering memory 

I reckon Eve chose between solitude and knowledge 

Listen to me, listen-there was no temptation of the serpent there was 

A choice, a deliberate choice

The story goes- Eve was left alone in the middle of a luminescent garden 

Adam, he was playing video games and watching pornography

Projected on hazy screens- a comfortable and decent life 

Eve- this aloof creature living on the marginality

Dreaming of lustful hands touching her shape 

She listened carefully to the serpent’s declaration

It turned out the apple was not an apple but the key 

Out of solitude out of this perfect comfortable and dull garden 

So she chose some sort of painful but worthy hell of knowledge 

Of course, God made a scene, how dare you choose

Not that he cared too much; but only because a half-rotten brain

Could imagine something more than his little jerky garden 

Imagination leads to desire and desire leads to death 

But then, the creation cannot choose his creator 

As we cannot choose family 

There is always a Deus Genom hard-wired into our systems 

A sparkle of desire; rebellion. 

God was angry at himself

For the creation replicated his Master’s imago 

For Eve made him aware of his hidden shadows 

For Eve made him lucid and clear-headed

So God banished Eve as an act of auto-da-fé, self-destruction 

Now he’s eating popcorn grinning watching me write oh 

The atrocious loneliness of that monster! *






*cited from The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter




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