abreaction
louise carter
careening off the sleepers, this ca-ca-ca-
cacophony, an empire of metal
forcing its violent heft through trees, carving
mutilated gashes through sleet, the path
of destruction greased.
water lapping on the periphery, gently
as if in a dream, licking as a kitten licks milk, steady
ever steadier, a rolling motion like a bladder filled with mercury,
heaviness pooling in gravity’s cradle, defeated by the effort of resisting
what’s elemental, what’s fated.
petals ripped out to reveal the core of pleasure itself,
a star giving birth to itself, sex and death
simultaneous, indistinguishable.
greedy now for more pain, unquenchable,
delving head first into its jaw, skewered
along the length of an endless suffering,
body offered up and left behind, aflame
as it disappears down the river, uncloaked now
this kernel of light ranges eternity unchecked,
alone with beauty,
bruises the colour of black pudding and coughing up love.
i sought power
from many sources
like a meat-eating bird –
jellied heart-flesh
between beaky pincers, liver-rich,
already on the lookout
for the next meal.
Surfing the updraft
of a thousand anguished realisations,
I shadowed the earth from a distance,
projecting a swimmer's
distorted silhouette.
Noontime. Equinox.
Desultory weightless somersaults.
Air like water, tepid as breast milk,
tawny plumes that soften
the coal-coloured eyes
of a survivalist.
I sought power and it fed me.
I sought power and the world acquiesced.
Glass in a kiln, sand dunes
at sunset, the fulcrum
of satiation; relief.
If only I were powerful,
I once thought. But love
sucks iron from your blood,
leaves you weaker. And power
affords little warmth
come evening, when cats
go searching for carrion,
and trophies do nothing
but clutter your nest.
Just desserts, he might have said
if we were speaking. Deadpan
from the far end
of oblivion.
more by louise carter