The Forensics Of Fuck Case 28

THE FORENSICS OF FUCK (Case 28-2005) The poem was lethal lyrical perfect pure hard-edged as crystal (Perishing in a single stanza her heart exploded like a grenade – the room of her own splattered with anguish) Exhibit 1b: “I leave my lovers behind like a trail of skidmarks. The writing room was a massacre scene pages torn crumpledup tossed like aborted foetal flotsam… Exhibit 24b: “I tore out her heart and put in a Coke can.” Unfolding an 8.5x11 a slice of white-thighed skin slashed with similes… Exhibit 148a: “Her eyelids fell like guillotines.” A dry-witted page fouled with excretions from an over-active bland gland -- detritus from a banality boner. Exhibit 17c: “Love flutters the heart like panties on a flagpole.” “…built like a brick sonnet stacked like a rhyming couplet” Torn pages bearing typeface sutures -failed attempts to repair a wounded mosaic of metaphors. Exhibit 53a: “Pollen is flower-come.” “Wind is perched waiting in the trees for unaware children”

away

“Question marks are the shape of sleeping women who want to keep secrets” Shelves were disordered with serial poets: Keats, Byron, Ginsberg, Sandburg, Layton, Atwood, Pound, Auden, Shakespeare, Peoples Republic of Poetry, In Defence of Poetry, The Edible Woman, Reading the Bible Backwards, Poetry is Poetency on and on it went the room reeking of high literature packing “passionate intensity” with cold intelligence And there it was dented and disdained hunkered down behind the desk -an Underwood typewriter early 20th century design “Frankie, dust the keys and look for other weapons of mass creation.”