Thylias Moss reading THE PAMPERING OF LEORA
THE PAMPERING OF LEORA
Therefore, no more recounting of dreams, a routine thingthat bores with expectations of invention, unfiltered
non sequiturs, unusual embraces
only from the practiced
young woman who everyday remembers
being a bride, she is changing behind that white curtain
Leora
fifteen again experiencing
prematurely the pure suckling of a baby
fifteen with a virgin desire for pure suckling
something to do with jasmine
with jasmine tea
existing only without accident
It blooms while Leora sleeps
when she sleeps at night and it is also dark
for the jasmine
four hours
of tea sucking on blossoms, Cestrum nocturnum like
colostrum: the earliest secretions, and then only milk
from mother
—there it is
seven times over
jasmine bath after jasmine bath
till the tea can get no better
highest grade as stasis
all As
gets so boring, ka-put
to the test of innovation
all the right answers
Leora
sees herself mermaid, eel, tiger
fish from waist down
form fitting skirt of winks
under that bonefish or ladyfish profile: tail fins
already split, caught in transition from legs to fin
hybrid mutant bastard mestizo mulatto masala mule mix mutt
hm/bm/mmmmm
watered down (jasmine bath tea)
spiked (jasmine bath tea)
stands taller on tips of split tail fin
ps: pastiche, salmagundi when all dressed up
Leg and fin share custody
so young men sacrifice only below the belt
to please her
many wounded soldiers
her company
From now on storming the beaches
rocks already aftermath, the breaking of dozens of sphinxes
the taming of sandstone lions and griffins, gargoyles
Leora takes to breast anything capable of sucking
and being filled, no ban on leeches and vipers
that stick out like misplaced overdeveloped hairs
and while in position, her free hand
shaves the heads of Medusa’s children screaming for more nursing
with her eyes closed, her free handy blade, sharpened
life line
The liquids of history therefore tend to ferment; the beverages for walks down
memory lane therefore become pungent cheeses and wines, the odes
to bitterness and sweetness happen. This is also desirable. Taste depends
on how the glass tilts, how tongue curls.
What’s difficult
is maintaining gaps as gaps. A sustainable nothingness.
But something enters. Sustainable nothingness
looks like niche.
Ghosts and spirits of what’s been lost. A young woman looks over her shoulder.
Close watching of what’s fading does not mean the change from substance to spirit
would be observed. On the tippy-tips of split tail fin looking over her shoulder
a long line for the nurse, exceptional business, nonstop nursing
and the milk won’t stop, years are at the end of the line.
Pull the plug on a nearby respirator (how on earth?)
(don’t assume location, location, location)
the substance travels the line
joins the community of electricity, colonies of gigantic storms
on the sun
and appearances in auroras
that the mermaid sits under as under any canopy
nonstop
The spell of the tide tailored to make the one falling under its influence fall more
willingly. It feels nothing like falling at all: Leora describes rehabilitation
Sand sparkles remembering having been alive
only once
Leora’s eyes
sparkle upon contact with crabs and their incredible redness
that ought to teach her something about fire she does not know
with top heavy ways of knowing
(the brain should travel the stations of the body, and one day
the eyes and navel, when the eyes accompany the brain,
line up in a row)
—then a real reason for revision
Dream on
Accordingly, pureness of the situation milks its own purity
Fantastic and looks disgusting
(no matter where the eyes are —candidate
for truth)
but purity is still pure following
such a milking
The mermaid’s pregnancy has to be called immaculate after repeated searches for the
limits. Lost without those. Pure. Last resort and best explanation for birth of a human
baby from a mermaid without a human pelvis or womb. The best xrays
cannot find them. Machines arrive on the beach and leave defective.
Leora
continues nursing
her baby first in line
The milk is pure. It does not need to be pasteurized. Makes (empty)
no one ill. Nothing in it allows allergies. The chemistry (empty)
of the milk is pure. (empty)
The molecules are tabernacles of purity.
(as if they are empty) (nothing is right
here)
Law
Flattened out they are like flattened tetrahedrons,
probably are smashed pendulums
now
Leora
blessed
with impossibility of the usual kind of rape
her own brand
jasmine bath after jasmine bath
without legs
she does as much sitting
as anyone who ever sat on a throne
wheelchairs
keep evolving
I make stuff and am divorced, as of 18 September 2013. First time I've been single as an adult.
Jeremy Daly, a former studene to mine supplied this music. Poem was inspired by Shiloh Pepin, the mermaid girl (comment by Thylias Moss as forker girl)
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