ann pedone / poem
from The Greenland
Beget the aorist
Beget vendetta
Beget fucking as a way to better situate the mind
In the collective libido of “mouth please”
everything is done on camera, everything is penetrated, but
only according to the grammar of so many trapped things
While I’m still here in the shower
trying to wash off the stink of squid & a generalized nippling
Engineering an uncertain desire
before the last egg drops
steadily
various forms
of foreplay and conception and premature ejacu
lation all retain a strong faith
in images
while narrative is a thin red line
pharaohing its way down the page
with a spasm, a lingering, an eroticism that strives to
equate “blue door” classicism with a hymen that breaks only when looked
at under a magnifying glass
It’s that kind of “halftones” thinking. One that can easily be confused with
paranoia or a girl’s small thimble-full of amnesia
To open the body is to make more body or, in
other words, inter
course in an empty field, she said, is just about the Greekest thing possible
Quick! Ask me how much of my surface
is left. Ask me how much it’s going to cost me to continue to sing
She said: Tightening yourself around a thing is no guarantee
that the mind will inhere
Is it in the shape of leaves?
Is it the best way to narrow?
Ann Pedone bio
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