Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Adeena Karasick

video from THIS POEM

Salomé: Woman of Valor 


In axes of excess succulent access
of wracked tracks, flexed nexus sequestered, vexed lexis 

in the thickness of 
history mystery mastery matrices

Come with me 
through borders orders laws flaws codes
of urgent perversion.

Come crowded with fluid runes perfumed
and naked, thirsty as plumy flumes  
Come misty vitreous
prodigal and unspeakable in lusty veils 
Come holy in shaded legends
of puzzled ardor, martyred

in the curls of coiled cries a chorus of cursed whorls
scorched with countenance 
with outlaw fictions, fluid swoons, wounded
in coded collusion


Suffer me to touch thy body. Thy body is historical like the body of a lapsed eloper. Like a festered will of vaporous quills; like a palace of scrawled carousels nested with puckered longing. It is inhabitable; thy body is humming with harrowed imminence; parsed like the clusters of fractalled gaps wrapped in flitting iterates, like the cinders of aberrance, rephrased with effluvial ruses, a salience that dwells in the wresting foray studded with brokered heresy. Suffer me to touch thy holy precipice. It is like a crown of torn placards; like a knot of uncertainty coiled round thy neck. I love not your heresy,  but your entwined verity; effluvia flossed in the gardens of eros, and fettered with gilded triggers. Your body like a branch of echoic clusters that phishers have found in the twilight of caesurae! scattered  in the mines of ebullient looms which lines the brow of clanging passion tainted with malleable tales. There is nothing in the world so holy as your body.


Through the fercockte gawk-stalkin’ hack stackers 
of antiquity trickery lexically-licked sticky flickering

Salomé, you are bringing in the big guns
Opening the sluice gates
with your hyper dramatic excess
Flexed with  swishy riffs, pithy spiff grifters
Like a shattered chatter box schadenshow  

like a discordant accordion  
like manna from mayhem

you are ebullient as you blow
like a feisty 
zeitgeist, a forever riviera

and i say hula lily hillbilly, billiard bombast
ho-hum hum de lilah bruja hoo-ha slap trap 
of schizmatic revisionism

And take your slinky hijinx, pixie 
fixity of prurient lure of twirly whirlers 
a contretemp tempestuous extempora & lay me down in  
an elixir mixer of lexically robust postulates
which say ce soir bette noir, 
of gnarly parlors 
in a coughing scoffed cacophony of  
acrostic biscuits

a miscued skew of super cinder cendre 
slippery ceiling singing
in the flotsam frayed refrain. stay


When to cut is to bind,
take me
and as you come
to the tenet of my house. In the bed that is
spread across this lexicon

bind me
in the splendor of our haunting

bind me to your wrists
to your forearms, your fingers

bind me
with your leather strapped 
heritage histories rituals traditions

bind me
with your tableaux fabliaux 
of ragged madness
aberrance, labyrinths

bind me
in prophecy, sophistry
as i taste you
all palistrophically erotic and
threaded with hysteria

bind me to your doorposts bedposts

For in my death i taste you
with the paradox of worship. 


oh silly may, solo me oh
salo salo me no sweat, no 
way no slough sallow may laced with liaised 
no  shidduch shadow shakes aching 
pal mal! salomé  swirl no slam dunk oh sally swing low --
salomé ride sally ride like a resale sale oh sally sally mae be my girl sally sally song sally sayin something mustang sally headlong agon gone so langue tall sally
salient alias  wholesale sally down wind done gone 
done rot her s[ou]lamé  slayin lass, salomé so lay me down sally 
don’t slow me with your tally sally hey dolly dolly  psalm soullier what sally say salomé  slalom mal Allez! andelez salomé 
holy olé salomé me softly

tallying the cadences
of aphoristic rings


And i will kiss thy myth, Iokhanan. i will kiss it now. i will bite it with my teeth as one bites rapt truth. Look at me Iokhanan with your eyes of ragged aggregates, all heretically erotic, despotic of oscillate postulates impossibly flawed, There was nothing as luxurious as your eros, as real as your myth. Hidden perfumes plumes, feverish with fettered whispers, scattered prayers. How I love you! still Iokhanan; athirst for your lips, fingers, tongue and neither wandering silence nor rippled absence can shadow these ravenous apertures. Neither the fluid lumen ominous numena can assuage the throbbing of volleyed values, verity, veils veins of fire. Look at me, I have kissed your mouth, Iokhanan, I have kissed your myth. And on your lips, the taste of bold lobbying the taste of love; love they say, like scattered lace. I have kissed your myth.


Adeena Karasick is a gematriatic alchemist and lives among the letters in Alphabet City. 

No comments:

Post a Comment