DEE RIMBAUD


ROOT FLOWER RED

This flower is fire red, core vermilion: open.  Within the folds of its petals, 
stamens, filaments and fuzz, is cunt.  Descent into the primal void, into 
primitive violent being.  The taste of it in my mouth: the sour, musty, 
intoxicating taste of blood, which pulsates to the moon’s ululating call.

What I mean to say though, writing in the dust with bones, is... my dreams are 
peopled with holes, tunnels, entrances, openings, windows, doors: movement 
through, down, up; falling, flying through air; squeezing through constrictions; 
through and into that other side.  But in my dreams, always, I wake to the 
ubiquitous wan grey light of dead morning.  Scratching armpits, face, thighs.  
Rubbing never-quite-awake eyes.  The petals of yesterday, dust to the alarm 
clock’s endless ride.

What is on that other side?  
An unattainable, unimaginable light!

Through this blood flower, through the angry vibrant red of it, the root of 
collective being, our animal soul, we struggle towards that light.  

No accident this animation starts in red.  We are all blood, cunt, cock, meat, 
intestine, artery, vein.  

To dive into red is to be swallowed by cunt: to relive the clamped agonies of 
birth: 

In anticipation of death and the ultimate constriction, from which there is no 
release.  

A place we fear: suspecting there is no hallucinated rainbow, no other side -
only unspeakable blackness, void, negation of light.



STEALING HEAVEN FROM THE LIPS OF GOD
(Or “How To Succeed At Living”)

Strip the lids from sleeping eyes
And live in sunlight forever more.

Peel the skin from your bones
And let the acid rain dissolve you
Into nothingness.

Become shaman and seer,
Visionary & voyant:
Risk lunacy.

Descend from heaven
And be born again
From the scalding vulva
Of Sheila-na-Gig.

Burst rainbow placentas
And dance on the operating table:
Shake the scalpel
From the surgeon’s fist.

Steal fire from Prometheus
And spit in the eyes
Of scavenging birds.

Be carrion for Pan.

Fuck till you are beyond fucking.

Drown in your own juice.

Die and die and die again:
Die little deaths,
Die big deaths,
Die cinematic extraordinary deaths.

Deify yourself:
Cut fresh stigmata 
In random flesh,
Rub sulphur in the wounds.

Be a tiny thing
In an open space.


Become Christ:
Allow yourself
To delight in pain.

Enter love’s threshing floor
And ask for more.

Sing with the sirens:
Rescue sailors 
From brutal rocks;
Be a lighthouse.

Turn yourself inside out:
Scream till your lips bleed
And your ears echo
With eternal tinnitus.

Ride freight trains
Till your bones play the blues.

Phone the time
And hang on
Forever and ever.

Leave flowers
On the graves of strangers.

Shoot your television.

Grow old
Gracelessly.

Be impudent.

Embroider your tent
With the names
Of everyone
You wish you’d slept with.

Burn all your money
On a beach
At sunset.

Break wind
In polite company.

Rave on!
Dance to the rhythm 
Of your heart.

Allow the snake
That swallowed your elephant
To masquerade as a hat.

Borrow some colour
From your children.

Become employed
In a strange occupation.

Find a road
That’s never been travelled.

And always quit
While you’re still ahead.



W.B.KECKLER

      
  GOD IN YOUR COMPUTER

                    (for Leevi Lehto)

words - They're just
by writers against

the eye:  therefore
avoid following.  In

40 points of damage!  Blow
drags its tail.   How

when it comes up will
and things)  are one, All

is the eye: therefore
(Mind and things) are

effect.  13.  Avoid false
The Marvelous Tortoise

the problem of having:
pain, eye complaints

equalization    Dual
the users the optimal

is the eye: therefore
(Mind and things) are

decisionmaking and wasted
effort.  You need

when thine eye is evil admit
Tortoise drags its tail

(he avoids obstacles with
it.)  In this Void     both

40 points of damage!  Blow
drags its tail.  How

people who do not - near

(not to be) an empty void
while together in

effect.  13.  Avoid False
The Marvelous Tortoise

decisionmaking and wasted
effort.  avoid "You need"

is probably the best way
to be the safest way

avoid bad decisionmaking

avoid following

                                
     THE R.I.S.D. BUDDHA

The wish to die.

Then this.
Night drive to limit.
Out of the neck like blood.
You were recording ongoing protection.
No matter:  I rail against shape.
Whole weight, empty eyelids scrunched....
Movement closed.  Slaves sucking love.

Face thump caption in blood.

I read the defanged phrases.
Surprise graceful shockwave of permanent reading
you didn't imagine.  Click click.

Asleep coal.  Embalm an idea
a shaven-haired look at lounging
in a hospital mirror.

A hundred years, a lovely cushion...

Gone friends (genes) dropped this wish.

A thousand times a thousand times
the invisible steps down and saturates earth.

Not even knowing itself, it awakens.

The wish to die smells of strawberries.

Who looks down.  "Eat, exist, see..."

                     (sutra written in the Buddha's room, Providence)