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Isabelle Adjani during the filming of Andrzej Zulawski’s Possession in West Germany. By Dominique Issermann, 1981.
we meet octopi
horrordreams
or the sacrifice
beds made of stains
flesh-tentacles and tears
(Source: mabellonghetti, via morethandefunct)
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Flamboozled in the Beak
A short piece composed in summer 2012 probably inspired by the works of David Ohle whose influence continues to bubble below the surface. I’m just hoping to capture one of those bubbles, maybe even let it shine for a bit off my teeth, cleanse this rot. Here is an excerpt:
“I’ve split buzzards to sing: bloated tissue, psychic cells quiver neon. Nothing solid to botch the epidemic. The current is blubbery. In the end, Feng doesn’t realize the pain or what electric wires do. They power the city, cake membrane repellent, a haze of clamorous buzz. A buzzard’s brain, frozen open, land-locked and ready to pummel, is the world’s tramp. They shot me. Ode to my struck neck: a beak squawks, volts and rubber splotches. I need a new hitch to sink this crumb: the android, the microbe, the pentagram halo. Feng’s pocket glows when I stroke mashed tongue, lick air. Weathervanes go funny. Not much to tell. I’ll give it a whirl.”
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Possession (Notes for Zulawski)
Zulawski’s film POSSESSION has been an obsession of mine for the last few years. About a year ago, enamored by lyric essays (esp. those of Lia Purpura and Brian Oliu), I set out to pay homage to an art experience that has given me so much return on my attention. This lyric essay is that payback. Does it do justice to the film? No. However, does it give us a fresh perspective on the film? Probably, not. What it does do is show my love for this brilliant masterpiece in the only way I can, by being as obscure as possible and hoping for a reader who “gets it.”
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Threaten Me, Gash///A Simmering///Paw
Three poems for your hot summer nights courtesy of DEAD SNAKES. My process was as follows: the poems started off in different forms than the published form that you will read. They were longer. I worked to trim away unnecessary words while still retaining the core of what I wanted to express with each piece.Thank you again to Stephen at Dead Snakes. This is my third time to be up there.
Shredded Maps ///
Jamie Grefe: fiction, poetry, essays
