Thursday, February 3, 2011

mine has an underbelly



mine has an underbelly
not the soft sort
a mollycoddled whore
might have
itself
an elevated post
deemed bestowed with fortune—
demanding much fawning
and fanfare

[akin to stardom there
where leisure is two winks
or a nod.
lavished with three squares
a tin shack
adorned by a single, red lamp
lit bloodshot, outside
every... single... night
a straw-bed inside to sleep on
after each routine, providential fuck
most of all for the few bucks
which she may tuck away
for a week's rent; that at month's end
she sends something home
is considered
luck]

mine
is scaled & rough
coarser still
like crocodile skin—
hide, which in and of itself
a curiosity
suitable for tanning;
a harvest from an ancient beast
splayed and skinned in an industrial line
on that scale

[slaughtered
closer to where it was grown
en-mass, on farms
run by firms flaunting logos
of tamarind trees
and palms]

guts and gore
tossed into the river
herself
grateful for that paltry bounty
for when the torrential floods arrive
she knows
she will churn it all
and cataract

[mixing-in the rest of the decay
along with red, volcanic mud
that she will carry the whole rotting lot
in torrents and froth
whitewater
careening down sheer facades
as she descends plateaus— furiously
ploughing at the fork]


engorging the entire watershed; it is her
her gushing has always quenched a content;

despondent — ululates
for she knows the rains
which swell-up her veins like adders, are still
four, damned months hence

that from her perch, at a distance,
she can clearly see Alexandria
burning.





9 comments:

Elisabeth said...

Well Nox, you've excelled yourself with this one. Such images: the experience of the whore, the hard bellied crocodile, the view from above and afar.

Wine and Words said...

She laments, though alternates the bellow with a quiet request...

let it rain

having discovered there is no bursting point (though trying once...to make it so, to end pressure in red rivulent release)

let it rain

as it elevates the pressure
to something that runs


I am sitting belly to belly with this whore, feeling the soft in it, with disregard to the reality. Beautiful post Noxy!

Wine and Words said...

Arrrrgh. Things keep changing in here. It is soooooo like me to be prompt....and miss the point, entirely.

*sigh*

arspoetica said...

I like much the contrasts in the descriptions of the "soft" underbelly versus the scaly one, and the half-rhymes in that second verse especially. I don't pretend to get all your allusions but I recently finished reading a memoir of Cleopatra, and this made me think irresistibly of her.

Excellent piece.

Noxalio said...

thank you kindly Elizabeth.

Noxalio said...

oh, no Annie, it's not you, it's this thing. it refuses to 'die'. although, i don't know if i should think it fortunate.

Noxalio said...

Joanna ... Cleopatra's memoirs? really? ... i shall have to pick that one up as i've never read it.

truth be told, i'm unsatisfied with this one. i tried to tighten it up by merciless chopping and by injecting better metaphors but it lost all character and the semi-surreal 'feel' ... so, i'm afraid, it is what it is and i suppose it should stay that way.

thank you for stopping over and enduring the semi-torture in reading it.

forgetmenow said...

i've read this several million times and believe with all my heart that it's a masterpiece ...

intensely personal, global and universal it gripped me with talons and passion ...

this is awesome!

Noxalio said...

oh Shell, ... yes, this one is personal ... and Blue, as you might guess represents several (including yours truly - a color i've loved for so many reasons esp for all possible symbolism which surrounds it, i know, cliche, but ...) most of all, that she needs to leave (that beautiful place, her source), in order to fulfill her destiny and yet she never really does, nor can ... that, flow is always in one direction and yet represents not only journey but archive of hopes and dreams, not only of the traveler but also everyone along the way, esp those at journey's end and even then does any journey really end? ... that geography is not only place ...

thank you, my friend ...