"Never lose sight of the fact that all human felicity lies in man's
imagination, and that he cannot think to attain it unless he heeds all
his caprices. The most fortunate of persons is he who has the most
means to satisfy his vagaries." Marquis de Sade (1740–1814), French
author. Saint-Fond, in L'Histoire de Juliette, ou les Prospérités du
Vice, pt. 2 (1797)"
"The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday— but never jam today –" Lewis Carroll [Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] (1832–98), English writer, mathematician. The White Queen, in Through the Looking-Glass, ch. 5 (1872).
"Le rêve et pas le rêve"
All this brought on by the sleeping snake
in the battle of the peyote bud made sacred once a year
to cleanse one's life and celebrate the next.
Dressed in Monroe red the slumber never ended
until the will appeared and danced every day
finding meat, carnage, ribs and parts of eyes
to tell the truth again, as half dreams decline.
I recall making water drugged on buds
a century ago when the toilet seemed a galilean mirror
for rivers below where dams stopped
morticians from harvesting candy canes.
I met Lewis Carroll and Alice in the plaid skirt.
Sitting on his paws, some unprincipled cat with
terrible tooth ache complained of ailments
no one ever heard. I told Alice "acquire new pets."
Lewis screamed. "I will not give up my reign
as chief beast no matter what the logic."
Dancers marked checkerboard with old oily
rags leaking petrol and dynamite from Sir Bad.
No one considered the ecology of non Euclidian space or
the twin Genesis suns diving from the sky staining
the book a dark prodigious lie.
Terrorist Lewis Carroll:
He crawled into the cinema with explosives
nestled to his heart, and when he pulled the string
the movie started and no one could witness art
Bless all you sinners drinking wine on the cliff.
"I order you to jump," Lewis said. "Kiss the girl and leap.
Now be done with you, you molasses ass.
Climb to Nirvana with some weary folk singer
to much in hate with his mind then his wit
I traveled in glue and struck De Sade. He was worried
about love, and how reputation had fared. I told him
he had created a word for cruelty and frivolity, but
that was my opinion. He said. "They think pleasure
is pure. I don't mean death, or mortal wounds, but
the sting of life as irony and foil to the magnets
I found while walking on a beach in a city called
Angeles. No one believed, of course, as I
had no money, and my clothes seemed theatrical
as they put it, but I was wise, and stole some pants
and found a girl who treasured my rocks, and then
the glue struck nine and I was gone. Alice was much
disturbed not to have me home. She required
the creator to make her tall, old and terrified
when he photographed her inner stings.
No, I was De Sade not that fool, Alice, who adored
fastidious pubescence girls. Sometimes I am confused,
amused and bewitched by the plenitude of watching
time boil lead into cake eaten with lemon juice and limes.
De Sade Discomfort with the Future
I don't advocate the plunder of nuns and children
except in the spirit's mind. I became too dangerous. "You
watch your life," he said. "Beware: you're dangerous too.
I looked you up on Google before I would submit to the
interview. The last journalist, a racist, bigot,
challenged the dictim that women and Negroes
were inferior on the basis of delight in pain and pleasure
distributed unfairly in delightful prisons. He killed
millions of Juden when he swore on his bible.
Juif, my amour, my fellow idols, and now
I possess you, dear person of dreams set down
in the toilet paper reaching the TV program the
"Edge of Romance"; night didn't fall asleep
unless I made love to my self or you in ardor.
One Story: "this nun climbed into my bed. I was
a demon and then she took cock away, but before she
cut, she road me like a stallion and sang "Oh Holy Night"
rushing back through Hell with my Silver Coach and nine.
When I woke I was intact. It was a prurient dream
and I had to pay some poor wench more than her
worth to display out of heaven again my cock and tails.
This picture perfect pain pressed as priceless proud
lies on top of merry-go-rounds hiding waiting the end
of the last tongue de l'Eucarist et de la mort.