Sensory panic

Those who admire Sade and Bataille did not eat any excrement.
—
As for me, I swallow large gulps of cerulean shit 
drinking panic in flesh and solar blades 
my gut on sensorial nerve-breaking table
my skin stretched along a warm vomited afternoon
squeaky cartilage on the scarlet thread
dislocated rush
my erect bony body
on basal tremor
sensory marrow in primal flood.
—
And when I scream (frightening my neighbours)
I disgorge spurts of bright tortured beauty
ejected in mad gushes
on the silence of my stolid walls.
-

Younisos in the CUT UP Anthology

I'm thrilled  to have a text included in CUT UP!, the amazing anthology edited by Antony Hitchin and Joe Ambrose.
My contribution, "Self Cut-Up in Tangier", is a bloody cut-up on my own texts.

http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/cut-up-2/

http://www.amazon.com/Anthology-Inspired-Cut-Up-William-Burroughs/dp/1291745920

Aesthetics of carnage

-
My belly is a voracious beast, eager to tremors ;
it pukes strings of atrocities
gulps of tremulous terror
and sensual anxiety
without any purpose —

just for the killing joy 
for the sensorial massacre
and the terebrant chant
— and the scarlet hole
in the skull
of the present.
-

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