Anatomy of The Posthuman: Love Poems (Sample)

(for pier paolo pasolini)

he called it the relentless
beat of image
against temple–
this lust for flesh
half-forbidden yet
encouraged in the thighs.
run down in the streets
by his own car;
hustlers did it.
who knows who killed him?
who cares?
it’s life that counts,
this back-and-forth
from trains to politics
hybrid belief.
bi-sexuality of the mind.

then he found film.
the days of Sodom;
love-scene with a body bleeding
in the wedding bed.

he put on film
what he couldn’t write–
image, for him, more
perspicuous than words
which sometimes float
soft beneath the bridge of
our perception,
naked boys on inner-tubes
trying to be silent
before the rush of falls.
image always splatters.
he became Director
Chief Instigator
forced by private longing
into public from the sacred
pounding private flesh
for boys in attics
to throwing it all
recklessly on screen.
The Italian Cinema:
primal blood-drenched trade
Satyricon upon a silent
washed out
of white

advertise exclusion
through art
as the way out of loneliness

in the streets of rome
the holidays are over.
dead and drying leaves
scrape sideways down alleys;
dante’s ghost and pasolini’s fear,
reluctant collaborators,
meet there to collude
in word
and image

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