Poetry [Mattress Flying]

Hola mi Gente,

As one of my FB contacts put it, you don’t have to be a supporter to see that the press is doing a number on Bernie Sanders.

Just thought I’d leave a little something before heading out. Y’all have a great day, ya hear?

* * *

02-23-16_ Poetry [Mattress Flying]

Mattress, linens, pillows, objects (79 x 211 x 234 cm)Tracey Emin shows us her own bed, in all its embarrassing glory. Empty booze bottles, fag butts, stained sheets, worn panties: the bloody aftermath of a nervous breakdown. By presenting her bed as art, Tracey Emin shares her most personal space, revealing she’s as insecure and imperfect as the rest of the world.

Sonnet from the Groin

Crazed with spring all I want to do is fuck, free
these thighs from their denim prison, let the rich
scent floating around my neck take a look see
into the under things of a man. (Which
man is a trivial spec.) Oh! To be flying
above a mattress, screaming not with hate
but with throaty mating only trying
for the peak and pinnacle of frolic. Fate
and I have made a bargain: to compel
the most virile to lay me down, discipline
the demon out of my body. Possible
friction, find me I’m not hiding, will become
an electric pink rubber band on command. Womb
you have nothing to do with this! Time to bloom.

— Maggie Wells (1977 – )

* * *

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…

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