< PREVIOUS

NEXT >

973305.A - My Brain Is Wired Different
Production Year: 2018 For Sale - TBA
Dimensions - H x W x D (inches): 00 x 00 x 00
Materials: vitreous glass, stained glass, ephemera, found objects on wood

When Oberon sweats to me through the leaves
A tickling itch upon my verdant skin,
I fire with insolence his distant desire
By the steadfast refusal to scratch.
Unsure if to be amused or annoyed,
In his erotic retaliation
He commands the zephyrs even bolder:
The trees now shudder and sway in his enthrall,
Bending to snap and burn me for my jest.
Then does my fawning flesh flake to a mulch
Upon the damp glitter of the forest floor,
And blood – the dark sap of my LaughingHeart –
Oozes where the trees, on his orders, bit me.
Anon it thickens to a rusty lichen,
Making wild, itinerant tattoss upon
The trunk and limbs of this happy Puck,
And lo, my Oberon’s bursting desire
Howls louder across the mutinous heath,
Making me ever and again the object
Of his raw, monomaniacal lust!
We both know what fun it is to tease him;
How not to have me now, in his passion,
Renders future loving all the more grand.
Yet always and most inevitably
The Future arrives with a gusty yelp,
And he, Oberon, appears before me,
His wings splayed in full, majestic splendor.
I rejoice to be his loyal servant;
In these Analog Woods I am eager
To be by him commanded and toyed upon
As the most authentic expression of
Our awesome, ancient, Optimythic love.
But such satisfying consummations
Are never with the same stylings of joy donned
As are the glimmering organzas of
Remote and mediated flirtation.
To wit: I may, on selected occasions
And on the will of my wild arousal,
Mischievously plot to pollenate
His wind with a burst of my bodily spores.
And they, carried back to him by his command,
Crawl up and into his hungry nostrils,
Float down and darkly through his tunnel’d throat,
And settle, at last, in his loamy lungs.
There they sprout, spread, and colonize his heart:
Fresh, firm, and spongy, the phallic mushrooms
Emerge to fill his soul’s sacred cavity,
And trips him into psychedelic travels
Of euphlorid, intra-metaphoric joy.
Thus we remain, through the pining absenses,
By a billion seeds connected –
Famously across the fairy forest –
Irrespective of the jealous complaints
Of his pale and politic Titania.


< PREVIOUS

NEXT >

 

POZEZ | PRETEN$ONS | PRYSSEZ | PLAYSEZ

OPTIMYTHIC - Copyright © 2018 Infinitive Ink Limited. Created by Shawn Postoff.