Apologies for Cross-Dressing

6/28/99

Dear Nada,

  You make me want to say stupid nice things, like "Greedy person lacks
valley so desires one," but I'm short on strength, like tiny thread,
sometimes I need to be hit on the head, "violent," "ravaged,"
"distortion" as tho a food vessel bent under weight of rich content


Dear Gary,

  It's not that I think "lance forces effort in performing duty" -- for
what's duty but the edge of sheet tied on that ash tree? I want the
milk that makes my belly swell with growth of immature tree not yet
finished. But we're almost out of Lifestyles -- will you buy the next
round?


Nada,

  No. History's just letters of the alphabet on the page even Mussolini
was a poet, okay maybe he wasn't any good a futurist "hanger-on," &
one less attracted to Marinetti's experiments w/language than to his
celebration of war as the highest form of modern art ... ?


My darling,

  A perfectly humane eroticism may be impossible. If I lift the lid of
the id, there will be only calamari (ika). Tongue shows dry mouth;
nose makes hole in window, left feeling down. Women, like female dogs,
are earthbound squatters.


What? Nada?

  I'm beginning to feel that I honestly have never understood you, how
else could I have been so ruthless & pragmatic to have written you
from threadbare lodgings? Even bamboo has strong fleshy sinews like
hands reaching out for bent person moving off


Poopsie,

  On the contrary. If a woman's not elusive she's got no chance of
apotheosis. This is the dynamic of (strange burning smell) (with
entwinement) the LOWER LEG of our twin loti. Feminism dismisses the
femme fatale as cartoon and libel, but for me it's a vehicle into or
out of lubricity.


My Empty Tigress,

  Don't I already have enough feelings?


Oh please,

  From the jammed glassy cells of sea roe to the feathery spores poured
into the air from bursting green pods, nature is a festering hornet's
nest of aggression and overkill. Would you just do me a little favor
and zip me up?


Honey,

  You've got enough clothes to fill six wells--besides, once ideas go
into receivership, there's nothing can't be done with them. I'm still
pissed off at you because you know what? it isn't enough, these
"moments," these moments of "love," "hate," "poetry," "frustration,"
"action," "surrender"--& the five threads in my belt loops say I'm a
gentleman


Somewhat obscure, my love,

  ... is a variant of "tail." The moon tonight is full. Of shit. That
which continually emerges from a vagina is a succession of children.
"Belong" is seen as deriving from the idea of the tail being "firmly
joined" to the head. Bending person moves to greet another, but she's
got water on the brain. Edema is our mammalian relapse into the
vegetable.


Yeah, yeah

  I know, & grinding my teeth down to points, apologize. In 1974 I was
writing about Elvis movies, whaddaya want? It's like grandma always
said: Before cutting meat, cut horns ... but then she slept with Nazi
soldiers, was practically a tourist attraction, no beauty, no good,
the issue of an indifferent creator


Honorable master,

  Heart breathes through nose. The foxgloves are wriggling tonight. My
yukata open at the armpits. Bird frets when scorched over wire,
wouldn't you? My bliss is in the kitchen, next to the almonds. Do you
need water? oil? cream? One hand receives baton from another hand.
Hand takes control of ear. And in that flesh S, trace thread-like line
to source.

                       love,

                       nada