from my pleasure I
IRENE SILT
Audio: Irene Silt reads.
I have all this wetness that you don’t have
and you come back at me with
you’ve got a way with words, use them
I plead, like, there are no words right now!
That would be my true pleasure, wordlessness
I speak for a lot longer in languages
you do not understand
I have desexualized everything but the room
You fooled yourself into thinking
I would unfold if you shook me hard enough
One time you really got me talking you said,
I should give you amphetamine salts more often
Looking at you, I picked up another armful of mulch
and it began to move. As I stood up, the mulch fell away
and in my arms was a large black snake, cold
It unraveled and poured out of my arms as we gasped
What like, I am not aware of how I am fucking oozing??
That overcompensating solidity that is still so slick
Try to wash myself off myself I am becoming lost to air
Blame it on the revolving door of my bed
or how the neglect made me masochistic
in a solitary way: a workaholic. There’s an idea
of feminism as living with consequence,
lacerated bodies communicating their lacerated lives
Your cunt is literally hard to get to
It clamps down so fucking hard
and the one thing I did say is
I don’t care for biting
from my pleasure II
IRENE SILT
Audio: Irene Silt reads.
When I was fisting you I rested my arm on top of the A/C window unit
and that time you were kneeling over me my legs fell asleep,
I gave them permission to float away
I pointed out that you always wear your underwear backwards,
the face you gave me was dirty
Often I am extremely rigid yet balled up,
I used to call myself a 2x4 but now I am like
crumbled up steel. Often you say, I can’t tell
if you want this. I cannot always tell myself
Often, pleasure is somewhere outside the known and unknown
It is unknowingness, without any expectation
that one day it will become fact. It is the honesty
of me not knowing if I want your mouth on me at all
and the lack of expectation that I will orchestrate your desire
That I will open up onto you, when there is no denying
this will be for our use
My Decisions in the Bathing Water
IRENE SILT
Audio: Irene Silt reads.
Stillness is easy to appropriate
I can claim silence with a flag
Money showers pool
Into a stagnant puddle
I lap it up, taste your voice
Keep in mind I want you
I like to sit in front of it
Hold on and pretend it is mine
Protected by the doing
Feel it fill into my mouthful
No I don’t think you are prude
Here, a locker room of encounter
A glide by, flash of your gap
Could it be the middle of you
That I am so lucky to know?
I heard you in my tonal yeah
The corner and the bottom
Open the centerfold as a hand
Not over watered or under sunned
The plant is rigid and taut