"Affidavit Disregarding the Body", Anurak Saelaow
And yes, Anurak, sex is boring.
But suppose in its writhing
a gnostic cadence –
some selfish conviction
of the body
as fulcrum
to a fuller universe.
As if sensation itself
were the crux:
the self as waterspout
picking up boats, people –
swirling detritus
inside his belly
until sodden meaning
tumbles out.
Not exactly flaneur
or roving eye,
he swallows
and swallows and swallows.
Leaving in the rind,
the thorn, the live wire –
feeling the way
each thing writhes or changes,
the way each thing changes him.