Surprise me like a monster ...
A rape in the meadow, a fornicating fellow.
A flea on the fur of a shaggy old sheep,
All tangled up like winter ...
Cut the very life of her blood bank that billows up
from below her skirt and sunlit blouses ...
A hollycaust. A pussy, wussy willow.
Marshmallow, a mantra. A temper tantric tantrum ...
Watch out, here I come."
Who can bear witness to unknowing? Who can speak (about) rape? Can its memory, regressions, or ressentiment be spoken?
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