Posts Tagged ‘sex’

Every Thing Possible

To be believed is an image of truth & not-truth. Thinking outside the box. The function of  [space] rests on your fingers. How we categorize the thinking of functions is like immigrating across time.  Even cockeyed gibberish translates into some vernacular.  Into bits of alpha-male flanked on the screen.


                       It is sensational. It is artisanal.  It is extra sensory that

                       everything at once still ends up in someone’s mailbox:

                       electronic or not.


It would be an insult to the possible to succumb to it. If the box you lie in makes you ill; sod it.  A theory or grams uncritically ties the page to the mast; the mast to the page.  Pitch a sail and traverse the intellectual field: find a lover.


                         From the erotic to the neurotic; an alternative explanation is:

                         do –it yourself. 

                         Is:  annex what is potent and ride it out at your desk

                         [everyone’s doing it]


So, men will continue; with their dirtiness. He didn’t dislike you –  it’s the porn..  It’s the digital SHE that represents the real (if you’re delusional). The menaced-men investigate what is reached: they take their political past and  their psychosexual flair and auctioneer their best traits to the highest bidder:


A startling departure: the electronified woman. [ Surely Darwin didn’t see that] What baffled naiveté we own, to stand in the midst of such beauty and desensitize it.  To come through so perfected through a screen.  To do-it-myself with myself as if waiting for the phone to ring.  A call not made.  Disconnected. Disdained.  The lazy days. The lazy ways. The lazy phrase. So urgent is that– that immediate gratification; immediate satisfaction; immediate attraction that it Kings your life. Stirrings resonate in the mind.  The physical is unified.  The need to be held becomes  disembodied –as SHE is disembodied when you hit [power off]. Did she lie? 


Her treats are too sticky. Her sap is too tricky. Her figure is jerried-up just so to speak [or peak] before it sours.   These [little] questions are all harrowing; or all narrowing.


                          Go back to the mind, and feed it.  [REFRESH]


The soul: the original electric.




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