20150721

Lotto Thießen


L


                                           For you, my friends now
                                           close the door with a shot
                                           and tomorrow will protect this
                                           with a forgetting skin
                                           in which we live fully dressed
                                           as people w/ functioning
                                           survival foam between
                                           the break of bone
                                           and the limit slime
                                           that creases round rooms
                                           and folds tunnels to being
                                           small and flooded
                                           winged and flapping
                                           and now the door is shut
                                           and you are in

                                           cut in one direction
                                           surprised how much
                                           has to be cut to get a cut
                                           cut you into view
                                           in which a profile comes to light
                                           with chinbone baby hands
                                           that reach out and walk on up

                                           a face is lancelot
                                           a skin that looks like palace
                                           with its marble-pillared clear lined nose
                                           eyes sodalite-lake-like thinly veined
                                           and where the mouth opens in the sky
                                           dalmatian jasper birds with knives as beaks
                                           cut through the air with aristocratic voices
                                           from the height armor
                                           heraldic pore formations
masks behind masks   behind masks behind  masks cut behind  masks behind cut
masks behind masks   behind masks behind  masks cut behind  masks behind cut
masks behind masks   behind masks behind  masks cut behind  masks behind cut
masks behind masks   behind masks behind  masks cut behind  masks behind cut
behind cut masks

all my friends are sick this week

                                           suffer from a face that is a truckload of dicks
                                           or a hand full of cards
                                           with bricks that missile
                                           talking pillows
                                           a face is a pillow

                                           a face asks “did you talk about anything interesting”
                                           and is not a face anymore. Its skull is cracked open
                                           to the cosmos since it was seven
                                           it spills everywhere
                                           its eyelashes spear into the night
                                           to the rhythm of it
                                           and fall into the dreams of others

                                           a face is torture
                                           a viscose layer of demons
                                           w/ cardinals welcoming seasons
                                           out of the lava

                                           a face doesn’t know its age looking at others
                                           it knows itself in the mirror through the look of others
                                           through itself looking at others
                                           make it crack

crack behind crack   behind crack behind   masks crack behind   behind crack masks
crack behind crack   behind crack behind   masks crack behind   behind crack masks
crack behind crack   behind crack behind   masks crack behind   behind crack masks
crack behind crack   behind crack behind   masks crack behind   behind crack masks
crack masks crack

                                           a face drinks a poison green parrot
                                           and its career escapes from the zoo
                                           where it caused trouble for incestuous
                                           parroting with only slight dislocation
                                           from real life consequences of the concept
                                           it carries in flared auricles that swallow
                                           boiled heart eggs and oysters

                                           a face is a face only for the parties
                                           a face sits down
                                           sits on a face
                                           a face is on fire
                                           skin falls like rubble off its hills
                                           an entire land slides off a face
                                           the face that’s sitting
                                           is now sitting on the skin rubble
                                           in the rubble faces swim
                                           some are drowning
                                           a face is extravagant sitting on itself
                                           mostly scene related fingers know the indications
                                           contraceptives and bloody marries
                                           a face has its period everywhere

a face has started a fence                                                               a face fence out of faces 
a face has started a fence                                                               a face fence out of faces
a face has started a fence                                                               a face fence out of faces
a face fencing off a face

                                           a folding fence face a metal contraption
                                           when you lock your fence
                                           everything is in there
                                           at least everything that is in it is
                                           in there fenced off
                                           a pretty functional garden
                                           psychotic flowers around pools of poodles
                                           with words biting their asses

the potentiality of face

    shakes faces fences                                                                          fence shakes a face
    shakes faces fences                                                                          fence shakes a face
elevated to shakes

                                           a face gets what it wants from language
                                           it is well described elsewhere
                                           in terms of strength of character
                                           a face is a territory of expression
                                           it sits well on its bones
                                           no muscular distortions due to adaptation to the cannon
                                           or nervous makeup twitches
                                           it cuts deep
                                           has a deep cut
                                           a strong profile
                                           an oval shape that cuts through a trident
                                           a perforated forehead with wiry hair
                                           and an absurdly long tongue
                                           it is the image of “a poet
                                           standing on a mountaintop
                                           yelling”
                                           and another face wonders,
                                           “when will he stop?”*

                                           a face with a modernist narrative
                                           the optic nerve points outward like a pipe
                                           and the eyeball puffs kisses towards the brain
                                           ferociously like an octopus
                                           its tongue grows ferns in subcutaneous networks
                                           and dies when singly extracted
                                           as it walks chunks of meat splash heavy on the ground
                                           and it bathes in the cuts
                                           a red flesh orgy with extended teeth that frame it
                                           while it sits in a room
                                           the room has four walls
                                           the walls face outwards
                                           sometimes people come to visit
                                           and leave again
                                           and it takes off its face in the dark


gets a cut
cuts through
cuts through
gets a cut
gets a cut
cuts through
cuts through
gets a cut


all my friends are sick today

                                           a face knows no innocence
                                           a coat in the shape of a screaming orchid
                                           pukes stones to walk on
                                           and be emancipated
                                           and call for a sisterhood of faces
                                           to tear down fences
                                           to take the rakes and the spades
                                           to the gardens
                                           to dig and to prune
                                           to get to the bottom of it
                                           dig out face after face
                                           throw it on the pile of faces
                                           below that face
                                           dig out the mask
                                           over the face
                                           prune away nostrils and temples
                                           cheekbones and chins
                                           a flower mask
                                           bathe in the fat compartments
                                           a face knows no innocence
                                           it sings in the shower and sinks
                                           it cries around the lake
                                           like an oily leopard
                                           rippling towards no image



                                           a face                 de
                                           substance
                                           I
                                                                                                       ate
                                           a face
                                                          with
                                           a         l   l
                                           the

                                                          a                 toms

                                                                                        bob                bing
                                           on the surface

                                           a face aufrüstung
                                           zum ent
                                                                                                       zücken
                                           to bite your finger
                                           off
                                           in the middle
                                                                                        of the line



____________________
* Philip Lamantia




Lotto Thießen grew up in Porto and is currently living in Berlin where she grows mental potatoes.
 
 
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