Marx Spider - Visual Poem - by Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon)
Gerilla Perseus
"This ain’t
water, that ain’t the moon..."
He tipped
over the bucket...
"Had no reflection."
He had retreated all along,
but now the time had come:
he must attack.
With
tooth and claw...
Right at their throats!
He came from the town of hundred and ten cauldrons
of different size. The nude
swan-like Paphrédo, Enüo and Deino,
were summoned by the heavy
dance steps
of horse skeletons
in a field of sempervivum
to the repulsively varicose,
nutrient-rich
flame-spouts.
He's tired of the vinaceous shrieking,
so he is already kneeling on one of the men’s a wrinkled prune ass;
From a hole, matters not which
one,
watery, cool, sticky juice
bubbles. (Caustic toad urin.)
"Northward, beyond the realm of gentle doom..."
"Rather go southeast to the source of the Satyr Creek..."
"The three Gorgons are but a figment of our imagination..."
"Wow, how intelligent
cornes you are,
God damn you all"
(Translated by Gabor Gyukics)
The Ghost Diver
"The Tomb is the Church",
huddling together with her diluted, squidgy, diffluent shadow
she danced a god tempting,
fornicating dance again.
The spreading bundles of damnation are
tiny,
delicate chalices:
there’s a gold ring
of fleshy petals
Around the lonesome Earth...
The mistress of the Valley of Skinners
returns to her cursed castle.
Lame Androgynous
binds the beginnings and
secures the malleable stumps of the
past
with a navel string-ringed rat
tail.
The returning dead huddling together
with their squidgy shadows
draw a magic circle from the Sacramental bread
around the moon that
torn itself as a gnome from the
writhing body of Earth…
(Translated by Gabor Gyukics)
(Translated by Gabor Gyukics)
I am marginalised in my own country!
https://www.facebook.com/laszlo.aranyi.3
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