iv. an impersonal poison - David Antin (from Novel Poem)

i say i am conscious
i am discreet
i like the feel of his breast hair
i like the smells of sex of sweat of skin
i write the word 'blood'
i imagine a meal
meat in its crumbs
veal beaten flat
sour cream onions
i get off the bus
prosperous comfortable London
taking by hazard is part of the pleasure
an unfairness of secretaries nurses
an impersonal poison
it was part of his intention to rob words of their power
to grow big
if you insist on going to bed with history
a period is something i forget
seven of my family
mother father most of my friends
communists
for days i have had to deal with a bad smell
a remnant
refugees in strange countries
i pack myself with cotton wool
i dream a great deal
the history of Europe
a grand piano
a notebook
a doll
i take six earthenware pots
i am giving pleasure
an exterior orgasm
a vaginal orgasm
oh boy oh boy oh boy



[From:
Antin, D. (1968) Code of flag behavior. Los Angeles: Black Sparrow Press. p57.]

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