What is your idea of heaven?
a scenography of step by step convincing
can't make a coherent hole from a whole
already handed to you: I want the flesh bit
back on these forensics
tell me how you pray: homage to a bottomed lip
language crazy hard, a vast licking till you
envelope // oh, anxious clench
take these everyday drugs, take the finger
offered inside of you blessed blessed
you consecrate, blue-veiled a lovely mothering
of holy shoals: she ribbons, she jewels
crusty tubbed god-head ashy in the doming
ashy in the knock-knock: this type of date
requires an exoskeleton, in this lifetime
once upon this idling
Mimosa Pale’s vulva on a bike, which she calls the ‘Mobile Female Monument’.
I can almost get the sense of the poem…but not quite. I wish I could. The intention of the artist, however, seems easier to grasp, and laudable. Her sculpture is a bit too in-your-face for me, as would be a big dick being trucked around; but given the context of the societal shunning of display of female anatomy…the reduction of such to, always, the level of the base and the cheesy––and, too, not knowing anything about Mimosa's background, her upbringing and all––I can dig it, but, really, can't help but blanch a bit.
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