by Steve Finbow
remember night before
the last night sitting
drunk on Z’s bedroom floor, Z trying
to cut it out, gouging
beautiful flesh, tattoo already
excised & bleeding, a dying
jellyfish on bathroom floor flopping,
reeking, pulsing punches
kicks hell out of there until
next time always
next
time
until
watch as Z pulls heavy leather hold-all from trunk, carries
it in both hands to room next to mine, opens
door, swings bag in, follows it
wait a few minutes & step out sky an impossible
peacock blue, scant clouds trundle across it as if whole world a film set
pullies dollies microphones twitching
cameras swiveling in the distance,
black tail whips over hillsides, stirs sand into djinn, demons, devils,
birds, dizzy in thin air,
flash & crash,
disappear
blinds drawn but one slat caught,
flipped over
put one eye to dusty window,
close other
heavy bag on bed, grotesque amputated crocodile Z stands
in front of dark-green screen of television
starts to undress
kicks off cowboy boots,
undoes a few buttons on floral dress—
flowers tiny, pink & purple on white background,
cherry blossoms in snow
pulls down straps from shoulders, breasts
small & perfect, stomach
flat & pale naked beneath
cotton inswing of Z’s sex, scant
hairs chestnut & milk chocolate
Z leans forward, breasts
barely move, nipples
erect in air-conditioned cool
opens hold-all, takes
from it paper bag, places
it on bed, takes
out another, places
it beside first & another
& another until bed covered
in paper bags gaping
cubic toads, stupid & prehistoric shadows inside baby crow in translucent egg
Z walks to back of room watch
Z’s perfect ass, cheeks moving
in independent suspension hear
shower start, cough, stutter & roar
jets break & splutter
as water washes over body
try door handle it gives walk into room stroke dress, run hand over scuffed leather of Z’s boots, sniff them turn to bed paper bags sit squat on duvet pick one up, weigh it in hand, it has heft, volume open with two fingers, look in, reel back, drop it, open another, & another, put hand to mouth, shake head, each bag contains a human heart blackened & burned the
scat
of
the beast
breathe deeply
need bourbon
reach for flask
bedside table
look at Z’s
roses in a vase
nice touch
nice
bend down to smell,
rid nostrils of reek of rent muscle
flowers plastic,
sterile
walk to bathroom
door open,
walls color of boiled ham
step in
inhale steam essence of Z
behind clouded glass door,
see Z’s body,
lithe,
writhing in jets,
tiny hammers on Z’s body
remember first time we fucked
on hands & knees,
behind Z gently
thrusting, feeling heat & clench
of Z, shoulder blades jutting stubs
of newly hewn wings flush
of Z’s neck Z’s mouth
half sneer, half smile
trembling thighs
aorta echoing in blood
rollercoaster of vagus nerve
as Z spasms
spasm spasm
leaning forward,
in final thrusts,
whisper into Z’s ear,
“i have always loved you”
Z looking back at me,
hair hanging down, laughing, saying,
“you always will”
now, thru glass door,
watch as Z washes hair
smell mint excitement
of Z’s shampoo; imagine
spumy molecules running down Z’s back, over Z’s
ass, streaming foamily down Z’s legs
close eyes
bang head on wall
snap out if it
walk back into bedroom,
search thru things—smell of Z—
vanilla oranges—overwhelming,
dizzying—find Z’s
longman grammar of spoken & written english
open it,
flip thru to basic structure of noun-headed phrases chapter
here,
chiseled into page headed
“use of countable nouns in text samples”, Z’s ruger sp101
take it out
check it’s loaded
step back into bathroom
steam obscures view
jets pounding in ears, in blood
open door
aim revolver
Z isn’t there
look up
something skitters across roof, zigzagging, heavy
hear
jaws
grind
slowly
wetly
holding it down, struggling with it—
beast held under water—
now it reared up thrashing & snarling—
memory of Z
sitting in motel room, looking
out into desert, sand rippling, dermis
of giant worm, remember
first proper day we spent together: sitting
on banks of river waiting
for Z, slipped silently thru trees, wolf shadow
& smoke, black tail whipping somewhere over the treetops,
held Z & held Z, touching
Z’s soft skin, tasting
Z’s lips, tongue entwined
in hers
after awhile, Z pulled away, looked
with those wet stone eyes flecked
with azure, said,
“would you kill a man for me?”
Z knelt down, unbuttoned, opened
Z’s exquisite mouth knew that day, when memory loomed,
days were over, would have to have Z
Z’s long legs, arches of Z’s feet, those goddamn eyes
last day together, after tearing
out heart & spitting on it,
Z had written a letter
received
burned & tossed into trash
memorized it said,
“i will not contact you again”
insides belly-flopped—paraplegic samoan diver—
looked at Z imploringly
& Z laughed & turned away
hit Z & hit Z & hit Z
dreamed it dreamt it
hallucinated it
looked up to see black tail whipping over buildings
now,
in motel room,
lift from the floor infinity symbol of Z’s black silk panties,
sniff them,
pocket them
outside, sun dripping
honey in translucent sky
ring
beesof
dead
Z’s car gone,
tracks fishtailing out of lot read
“follow me”
do so always
see Z gun machine towards babylon, its skyscrapers
its ziggurats mere insects on windscreen
babylon or theme park?
tail of the beast foot on pedal,
tongue lod
ged against teeth
infinity symbol glistening in pocket
imagine
Z looks into rear-view mirror, eyes changing from grey to blue & back, mouth open seductively, cruelly, Z thinks of taste of X, sweet molasses, salty, ferrous, knows Z’s saliva
is his insulin, his life babylon is where they
are always going—proliferation of tongues
In mirror, Z’s freckles are a million tiny planets—an explosion of mars & Z’s laugh lines
are its canals Z runs hand up inside of thigh, one hundred miles per hour now & going faster, faster, slips finger into vagina, moist with thought of X, runs fingers thru X’s hair, pushes deeper, lips on hers car shakes, rattles, & moans, &
a roadside sign says neverness one billion miles & Z laughs, throws head back trailing Z, eyes full of tears, hear it—isadora duncan’s scarf wrapping around the thunderbird’s wheels—gaining, pulling Z in, road swallowed—a long dark tickle of liquorice cock pulsing
to engines pounding Z’s laugh again, a flock
of doves heading into night, meteor burning
out on distant planet all words
in dictionary, falling ash & confetti
on a lonesome iceberg adrift in unknown ocean
Z looks back & shouts,
“the feeling of looking in someone’s mind—
of trespassing somewhere so private—is like rape—
forget me”
see burning coals of Z’s taillights—
a stalking beast
edge closer,
howling in sorrow & dread
know that something wrong has happened in world, something
has come untied, gone adrift hear the chitinous rattle,
the chattering of a million teeth, the dripping of saliva
splash of dark red urine on windscreen
one hundred miles per hour & heading for…
The Late World
…Babylon. That’s where I’ll do it.
I wasn’t ready.
The thing with the coals in the paper bags—
that was to make him run.
I could feel him watching me in the shower, see the shadow
of his presence thru the steam and the droplets. The problem
with X is… The problems with X are… Closure.
Closure. Closure. Closure.
I’ll close it, I’ll end it, I’ll finish this.
I look in the rear-view,
see the Thunderbird straining to catch up, to close
the space between,
to fold
time.
He remembers things differently.
No doubt he told you about a sylvan scene,
our riverine rendezvous—never happened.
He fucked me in his scumbag bachelor pad—
all noodle cartons and empty beer cans,
New York Doll’s posters and chipped mugs,
tattoo, motor, and girlie mags.
What’s he told you?
How we came together?
How we came undone?
The night I pretended to cut his name from my arm.
Never there in the first place.
Smoke and mirrors.
An artist friend with a collection of colored inks.
A gel pad from a brassiere. A
mixture of ketchup, mustard, and brown sauce.
As if I would disfigure myself.
For him?
His knuckles—HOPE
and my name… a middle finger Z.
Flip him the bird in the rear-view, see
the Thunderbird’s lights shine angrily, flash
and fade.
See his raised finger—the inverted Z,
the inverted cross around his neck.
Babylon—city of ziggurats and hotels,
of casinos and call girls.
Home of gargoyles and flying monkeys,
fake unicorns and faux dragons.
Check in to the Notre Dame Hotel, watch the bellhops
and porters squirm as I walk through the lobby.
Set out my implements on the bed—
the scalpels, the surgical twine, the ink,
the Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written English,
the gun nestled inside.
I’ll turn off the lights, leave the door ajar, wait
in the delicious dark, my panties
oozing with anticipation, my nipples hardening.
One more was all I asked.
One more body.
Had his desire for me softened the one thing I didn’t want softening, the thing
I saw in his eyes at the charity gig—that regressive gene,
that surging
need to escape himself? Before me
there was no one and after me
there were even more no ones.
Nobody.
No bodies.
The last time
we touched.
I’ll order California rolls from room service—the smooth
avocado, the salty crab, the cool cucumber, the smoky
pepper of the tobiko. My breasts,
his semen, my life, the flying things that live in the sea.
Our first meal together—he had salmon roe, those
perfect globules of first blood. Or,
in their casings, a spent cock bruised and angry.
My forever unfertilized womb. Raoul’s brains
trickling out onto the sun-splattered tarmac. The collection
of colored beads my mother left me—vermilion,
wine red, scarlet, brick red, burgundy,
pillar-box red, carmine, cherry red,
carnation, claret, crimson, damask, garnet,
magenta, maroon, oxblood, puce, ruby, blood red.
Coquelicot—poppy red, poppy sleep, poppy dream.
The tail whipping over the horizon, dangling
from beneath the clouds, leaving tracks
in the thin snow of the mountains.
I can feel the Thunderbird closing,
know its tick and rumble,
hear him scream my name…
**Z*!!!!!!!
Know he’s thinking of my eyes—arsenic and old lace,
ash and anthracite, battleships and submarines,
Bosch and bistre, Confederate and Waffen SS, cinereous
and seal-like, gunmetal and glaucous,
ice and isabelline, silver and sable,
platinum and porpoise,
slate and steel…
I gun the car, put distance between us.
The towers and pyramids of Babylon rise out of the desert.
The curve of the earth.
Armadillos scuttle across the road.
I swerve to hit them.
Watch as thy bounce along the asphalt, roll
to the roadside like severed heads.
Hear X whoop and holler! Smile
at myself in the rear-view—
my pouting mouth, my lips
flushed and full, the freckles like
dusty stars in a pale pink heaven.
Splash of dark red urine.
Slip
my hand between my thighs. The erotic
brail of my stubble. Slip in my middle finger,
slip
in my ring finger, second-knuckle deep—just like X used to do,
leave them there for a mile or so.
Take them out.
Taste myself.
Vanilla sweat and orange-water.
Open the Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written English,
take out the gun, run the cool barrel over my labia, rub
my clitoris, put the gun barrel in my mouth, suck
its length, replace it in the Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written English.
Look up… see the snail trail left by the black
chitinous tail, spine-marks, vertebral signs,
slime—
the sign reads
&n
bsp; Welcome to…
Babylon Burning
…babylon
flying monkeys wear bow ties, horses
sport fake horns that make them look like unicorns
slip valet a quarter shows the car, steaming with heat of desert, cool of Z shakes his head, his body trembling,
“did you see those eyes, man? did you?”
nod, touch his arm knowingly, &
a tear drips down his cheek, & he says, “shark grey, rain clouds, & the silver
of pharaoh’s egypt”
say, “yes” say, “no”
he leans forward, whispers a number
say, “of course” say “anyone with?
shakes his head ride elevator, walk along corridor to Z’s room door open walk in always following curtains closed room decorated in late-nebuchadnezzar style, smells of Z—ice-cream hurricanes
cross room to read scroll hanging on far wall all goes dark come to, naked & tied to bed gag in mouth exquisite agony look down body—as much as can see—covered in millions of tiny cuts blood washed away
Z steps out of bathroom,
naked except for pair of high-heel
snakeskin jimmy choo’s,
scalpel, & mirror
try to spit out gag,
taste black silk of Z’s infinity
X kisses cheek holds mirror
face—a chaos of small incisions—Z traces first
laughs & traces second,
runs nail inside them,
opens them up, so many oysters,
licks blood leaking from them
Z holds cock delicately in right hand,
bends down to it,
says,
“you see?”
saymuffled, “what is it?”
Z bends closer
can feel her breath on empurpling glans,
feel eyelashes on receding foreskin,
& Z says,
“your weakness”
black out black out
open eyes from somewhere
can hear 1-2-3 count of waltz open curtains
let in pale lemony light & motes of dust,
swarms of miniature birds
see snail-trail of vertebra smeared across window
look down
at body
cuts sutured with thick black cotton
Z steps out from bathroom naked on high heels walks over to bed slow & easy
straddles tightens gag
saymuffled, “found you”
“i don’t want to be found,” Z says
“i want to be lost & for you to ever search for me”
Z stares her eyes
will describe can’t try moon reflected in water shot thru with hyacinth gunmetal kingfisher platinum periwinkle pewter & ice silver irises neptune’s grey dawn her left eye, off-centre as if Z were always on