18 Hail, Savage! (To R.) Darling, who cares you prefer Sports Illustrated to Heidegger, Pizza to Souffle au Fromage, and bowling to opera. Hail, Savage! You hunt me down in this plastic and polyester jungle. You sniff me under the disguise of my clothes, race, class, degree, Below the camouflage of my priorities, Against the defense of my rules, norms, constraints and plans. You sniff me naked. You sneak Behind the fence of my words, Inside the zoo of my taboos -- free and wild, Crashing its bars. Despite my disgust for your hairy hands, You sneak into my burrow. You sniff me as your bitch. Hail, Savage! You attack me, your eyes emptied by hunger -- Two extra jaws on your face, with fangs. Your arms and legs are paws of a panther. You do not touch and kiss -- you jump and grip. You press, spread me, beaten into paste, cross the wall -- your prey. You do not caress -- You bite. Driven by senseless thirst beyond reason, Beyond lust, Ruthless, You bite the back of my neck greedily Till your fangs sink beneath my skin, And pierce me through, Again, again, again, again, again, again, again -- Throe thrown with Ecstasy in the Throbbing Of a thrust And slowly expiring Throat -- Gabble, gale, gala, gaggle, gaga, gallop, gang -- Till I am not human any more, But a beast with no name, no memory, no mind. Till I howl.







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IRENE CĂSAR
Returned Mail
Collected Poems

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