Riccio, Ottone M.

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and there was something funny in his look almost as if hewere homesick-- Jeff HeglinSimi, Californiasteering through the jostled room andlanding against the couchhe fallsheadlongon the floorhis drink spreads on the rughis dimmed eyes barely catchthe tentacles reaching toward himas he passes outacross his chest a parade of little mice displaying anti-cat sloganned banners march to a squeaky fifefrom between his knees a woman rises in the air naked except for traces of seaweed his hands sprout fingers two feet long which wriggle into snakes that curl over his chest and swallow the micethe woman wrapping the snakes around her body presses two of them against her breast-nipples and as they bite she sinks down between his knees againthe corner of his eyecatches the line of the sofa's seat the huge frame of the window the movement of the curtains the tipped glass on the floor the dusty smell of the rug gags him he fights down the sneeze and turns onto his sidehe seesthe drink-stain moving toward him with a hundred wet fingersand closes his eyes againnot to come back too soon29we walk toward the wiresyou whisper: what does the pattern mean?I shake my headthrough the center of the grid red putty pushes out shaping to a sagging ballthe hawk whirlsgreat wings slap the windwe huddle closer togethera scream slashes from the building I lean toward you: it's started scream after scream bellies out to where we stand inside the lights go on figures move the screams dull to whimpers I touch your arm: we must gono waityou edge nearer the grid press your body against the wires parts of your flesh push through forming sagging balls I try to pull you away you slap mecome we must go! no I’m staying!I leave yousticking thereyou scream after me:what does the pattern mean!—  Ottone M. RiccioBelmont, MassachusettsThe Doll HouseSay, this is some doll house; they're serving martinis on the cocktail table. —  TodayAllowed the darkest corner of the trunk The Duke and Duchess gradually grow old And chipped, their fires unlit, their hallways cold.What could they do? They had to turn to drink.All of the shutters closed, and curtains drawn,Another room is shut off every year.The servants lose no chance to overhear,And everything they hear they tell the town:30

[Steering through the jostled room and...]

http://ddd.uab.cat/pub/wormwood/wormwood_a1969v9n4i36/wormwood_a1969v9n4i36p29.pdf

[Steering through the jostled room and...]

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