Chris Mansel: April 2005

Walter Seems stands in the kitchen washing his hands, mud on his boots, and his clothes fitting loose. Fifty-four years old and he moves like a much younger man. On the table a glass, a razor, and a tape recorder. Mr. Seems walks over to the table and sits down. He smiles as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out three bloody fingers and lays them on the table. He stares a long time into my eyes then he smiles. He reaches for the glass and the razor and says, “Even when the roaches had been at her for two weeks, I still wanted to fuck her.” My face went blank and his grew serious. He then slashed at his hand and caught the blood in the glass. He says, “Now you got to understand, blood kicked or blood swallowed, shit, doesn’t mean a thing. You want to see where she is?” Then he added, “Well, what’s left.” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He stood up and said, “Come on, and bring the blood.”

Death poured of its sensuality.

recoiling in the sexual frenzy of the semiconscious the sweat fed shrieks agony constricts intoxication running in illness

I rose to my feet and he was quickly gone. I grabbed my tape recorder, notebook and camera and tried not to think about the blood on the floor dripping from his hand which I was stepping in as I attempted to catch up to him, not really sure if I wanted too.

Cremains

bodies dissected to shape swastikas and hung from trees hemaclips made of tantalum the pangs of childbirth parturition scars sulci of the ilia plunged eyelets flesh through bone

Out the door he turned down a narrow path somewhat hidden by a growth of trees. Deeper and deeper we went into the foliage until you could not see a foot ahead of you. The path consisted of many turns and backtracking. Suddenly I was at a clearing and there he stood over a body, or as he had said before, what was left. He looked up at me and said, “If you got your camera you will want to get a picture of this.” He knelt down over the body covered in maggots and reaching into her stomach he pulled open a trap door buried in the earth. Deep into the hole I saw steps leading down. Without hesitation he stepped down into the hole and soon disappeared. I heard his voice yelling back at me, “Hey motherfucker, you coming?”

Immolation

hemorrhaging defoliant drenching unsinged extracting coagulated blood claustrophobia activated by trip wires retching bone fragments dank blackness prayed groin souring strips of cloth soaked in urine clamped over the nose and mouth charcoaled arms punctuated by the Pathet Lao

The dirt in the tunnel was surprisingly dry, even to a certain extent like a fine powder. I felt for the walls to help me on my way then the hole became very narrow and I fell six feet into another level crushing my arm under my weight.

Circumstance and the very nature of water.

menstruating sweet mucus and elongated ecstasy by drinking pus dying reemerging exhausted on waking the fetus suckles the gaunt animal composite a cesspool of stigmatic bleeding parching the throat with a rejection of the body in a process that predates forensic science.

Looking up as I slowly rise to my feet I see vertebrae are hung from the ceiling while a slow milky substance leaks into the floor and flows into a drain and is collected into a glass. Mr. Seems is nowhere to be seen.

The odor of life

complexion was sallow face swollen flames seared accepted his madness through nose bleeds and masturbation smooth possession captured in 16mm hygienic religions

Human skin has been removed from his victims and has been stretched
and dried and hung on the walls where he has scrawled his journal entries. Others are rolled into scrolls and lay across his desk along with implements of his torture such as knives, leather straps, and dozens of glass vials. Books line the floor and are scattered with drops of blood and human bones. Then suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see a hand as Mr. Seems pulls me up and into a trap door hidden in the ceiling. The force of his grasp around my neck cuts off my breath. The hole is very cold and wet. He pulls me along up into other chambers then down into another room where one of his victims is still alive. Once again I fall to the floor and sit there a moment while he stares deliberately at me. “Look around”, he says, “and tell me what you see. I’ll be back.”

Weakening the returning hair.

suffocating closing the eyes of the dead sexual irrationality the restraints of a servile organ a consuming laceration scissors genitalia

He had not washed in seven weeks according to the notes by Mr. Seems. Chunks of dead flesh clung to his cheeks, graying in the glaring electric light. Exchanging mud for stone he baked in the 90-degree heat while spasms wretched his legs into horrible contortions then he was dragged back down underground. I photographed him while he shook and had to remind myself that I was an artist, a journalist, and that his suffering was my art. It deserved to be seen. I removed his clothing, as it seemed to be one with his skin. I found that he had cut off his own tongue and wrapped it around his cock. He had severed his genitals and tied them to a staple he had put into his chest. When I brought out a syringe his eyes seemed to glaze. He managed a smile. Across his shoulders as I turned him over I saw a tattoo of a child being devoured by his own feces_. I didn’t bother searching for a vein. He was somewhat childlike when he began laughing with all the syllables of extraneous meat. The heroin hit his central nervous system and I sat across from him to watch and detail every moment.

Emigration, a harvest of necrophiles.

There is behavior in blood gender is the perfect example that the brain has never, fully developed bisexuality is best directed at the inner organs

Mr. Seems returned and his presence filled the room. His victim lay down on the crude operating table in the middle of the room and waited the next moment nervously. Mr. Seems picked up a cloth rag and opened it on the table. Inside the rag are several metal and bone instruments, which he uses for his torture. Mr. Seems turns and says, “Give him the blood!” When I asked him how he told me that he was dehydrated. The victim opened his mouth and drank the blood anxiously.
“I began with urine and gradually moved to blood, he seems to like it better.” I asked, “Is the blood always yours?” For the first time his interest peaked in my questions. “I can answer you better if you come with me.

Ekstasis

Tiresias spread in ashes and spent filleted the excretions of the body are holy and pure of the process of life flesh is asexual and pulsating to the rhythms of blood as it courses to the brain

For once Mr. Seems let me follow him. Down we went into a chamber that was completely dark illuminated by a single lamp, which he lit to reveal hundreds of jars containing different fluids. In larger organs were body parts maintained and preserved in formaldehyde. He smiled, “I have a vast library.” He seemed proud of his collection. I stared ahead vaguely and asked him how long he had been at this. He replied, “Ever since I got back from Vietnam. I served four tours. One in graves registration, one in the Lurps and the last two in the tunnels.” When I asked him why the killing had continued when he arrived back home his demeanor changed and his temper returned. "What you call killing" he replied, and then he grew quiet. He stood up and took off his work shirt and I could see deep wounds along with burn marks that sent cold chills to my spine. With his voice almost a whisper he said, "Gangrene can spread nearly a foot in just a days time. I lost...”

Desecration

ax filled ruminations dizziness sensuality the destitution of clitoral exaltation screams dilation a chandelier of excrement eaten decibels of hashish beaten and collected accelerated grimaces an unproved fact bestial sciences

Exhausted I rise like Apollo from the bloodstained grass to desire. My chest opens slowly and my organs begin to rise from my body and hold still in the air now wet with phlegm. Dozens of severed organs seep into my open chest cavity. My cock is erect and as I began to cum the fluid flies from my cock and severs the arteries attached to my organs. My organs fall to the floor and mutate together. Suddenly constructed from the pieces Mr. Seems victim appears. Beside him is a nude black female. Half of her head is missing and she has only one arm. She crawls on top of my bloody body and begins to masturbate over me, smearing the juices of her pussy on my face. Shoving both her hands into her vagina she begins gnawing at her shoulder which the victim comes over and finishes ripping off the arm and begins beating her across her ass cheeks. The blood from the arm as well the blood from the spewing shoulder falls into my mouth. He slices off her nipples, which she chews and swallows. As she begins to cum her body begins to shake and vibrate. She falls over and begins to kick breaking apart my ribs and pelvic bone sending the organs crashing into the walls; while my organs are severed by her anxious teeth. Then suddenly I’m awake and bleeding. She is still there. She begins banging her head on my chin pounding it over and over till I lose consciousness. When I awake she is still there, her head is gone, and the arteries in her neck wrap around my cock and pull it tight until the head of my cock snaps off and is eaten by huge rats. Then I awake bleeding, retching into the dust of the floor.

I eat what I kill and kill what I eat.

made love to the tongue I swallowed shit the rain vomited in my hands and cursed my breath in the winter air bending over the drain cooking up meat in a small leather-lined bowl

I am still lying here when Mr. Seems comes into the room. He asks, “Isn’t there anything else you want to know?” I manage to stammer a quick, “Yes, it’s just this dream just caught me...” My voice trailed off when I saw him raise his hand and switch on the lantern above his head. His face was covered with blood and he was naked his body covered in ash. I asked him where his victims were, I had seen parts of their bodies and the fluids he had collected from them. But where were...then he cut me off. Almost laughingly he said, “You want to see that? I figured you would. Well, don’t just sit there, come on.”

Ax swings and smoke rings.

the rush of blood infecting the flesh warm urine diluted by peach wine abide by the shoulders breaking down the cadaver tooth by finger the stream is stringy meat hooks through the buttocks and trachea

Down we went into a chamber that had earthen steps. We began ___'down the steps until the light faded from view. For what seemed like twenty minutes we went straight down until he said, “Wait right there.” The air was much colder, and there seemed to be a breeze blowing. From where I had no idea.

Amputated, to the right of the head.

plywood reinforced by stone the tearing of sexual organs bloodstains on the rectal incisor anal sex coalesced limiting breath and dampening vision-impaled vaginas shaved and drained getting rid of the blood the heat of the drill

Mr. Seems lit a torch and the room filled with light. What I call a room would be better described as a chamber. I could barely see the back wall. Lining the floor I saw piles upon piles of human bones, and in the center of the room was a sculpture he had constructed of the bones and around the base he had wrapped human skin. Hanging from the top of the structure swung huge blades. As Mr. Seems walked through the room I noticed five people tied together with a thick strand of rope, naked and shivering madly, attempting to escape the view of Mr. Seems.

Defecated and gone.

will the flash from the camera startle her awake does the subconscious respond to odor can fibers be mistaken for hair in cigarette ash hands bound fingers split open asphyxiated long born dead

Mr. Seems sits down still naked, still covered in blood and ash, and begins to tell his story. “When I was in Graves Registration we got in a ton of bodies one day, I was due to be rotated out, and I did not want to go. So I switched dog tags with a guy who was wounded beyond repair. His face was gone, hell, half of him was gone. You could pick up the bag with one hand. And for some reason his dog tags had been found and put with the body. So I disposed of his body. Anyway, I took his dog tags and I left graves that day and reported deep in country to the Lurps. They were so happy to have some new blood that no one really asked any questions. For a year I killed and killed, and was even promoted. One day we found a series of tunnels and I volunteered to go down. The tunnel ran for what seemed forever, when I came out I was deep into VC territory. I figured they would guess that I had been killed and wouldn’t bother looking for me. I just kept moving on till I got ready to leave. Then after taking the identity of another soldier I collected my orders and got on a plane. I came back here and got to work.” Then he looked up at me and said, “Enough talk, I’ve got work to do.”

The rigidity of bodily sensation, expulsion and seminal discharge.

undigested food burned integument of the back the valves of the heart turned an unusual color the cerebral lobes in desiccation the head was torn from the body and swallowed whole lingering in the air the perfume of the body is soaked into bedclothes and quickly sealed impressions of muscular rigidity in the mattress he sheets are soiled and the frame has rusted flies shit and maggots spit all is alone

How do you escape from a place that holds your interest so? I could leave at anytime, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted too. True I was an accessory to these crimes by not reporting them to the authorities or trying to prevent them. Was this still a story I could tell? All I knew was if I did write this story I would damn sure want to read it. Isn’t that the secret of storytelling? I found myself anxiously awaiting sleep.

Red House

shave his head to burn the hair heat the spoon to cook a fix watch the blood rush to his face while his semen turns brown as his eyes his asshole sprays jism quilting his face saves his fingernails and the wax from his ears deteriorated crushing his genitals into his hands

I hear water running. The smell of a human body accelerates my senses. I’m repulsed at the taste in my mouth. A hand jerks open my eyes. I see about an inch before my eyes a woman’s asshole dripping wet with urine. The muscles in her ass squeeze tight then open once again and the blade of a knife inches out slowly. As it exits her asshole the blade penetrates my left pupil, blood covering my face, warm and sticky.
I knew this had to be a dream. I tensed my body and tried in vain to not jerk my body away. When I eventually did attempt escape I felt my flesh strip away. After the knife has dug almost to the brain, she rose to her feet. Her thighs were covered in bedsores and up and down her legs I saw scars of injections. As she began to walk away Mr. Seems aimed a shotgun at her and blew the upper half of her body away, spraying the blood onto the floor and my naked body. I then see several of his victims rush to collect the fragments of her body and stuff the bits into glass jars. When one of his victims accidentally drops one of the jars Mr. Seems shoots again killing him. But it doesn’t stop there. One of his victims, a black female comes over and begins to jerk me off, squeezing my cock hard. But my cock will not become aroused. She then lowers her head and begins to chew on my testicles as I scream aloud. Mr. Seems gazes over and simply says, “That’s enough.” I was not dreaming.

Death is no longer oblivion.

pregnancy burned shallow contractions beaten into sustained birth reciprocating fetal monstrosities then dried unconcealed bathing in rotting filth inhuman cries of incest no visceral perspective crippling spontaneous agony

A fetishistic practice notwithstanding Mr. Seems was simply a cold-blooded murderer. Every time he killed he attempted to hold onto every scrap of the body as he could, fitting the FBI Behavioral pattern exactly. So here I was covered in blood, a wound deep into my head now being doctored slightly by the same girl who had inflicted it. A rather odd event but it was exactly what Mr. Seems had instructed her to do. Mr. Seems came over to me as she was binding the bandages behind my head, stared down at me coldly and asked, “Have you seen enough? You got your goddamn story?” My voice cracking I responded, “Yes, I think I have.” Mr. Seems picked me up by grabbing my throat in his right hand and drug me through the many passageways. Somewhere along the way I passed out. When I awoke I was tied to the bumper of a car in the middle of the parking lot of the State Police. A secretary on her way to lunch noticed me and quickly got help. Mr. Seems had tied my notebook to my chest and inserted my pen beneath the flesh of my wrist. I spent weeks in the hospital recovering from my wounds and fielding questions from Detectives about what had happened to me. I told them that I had been abducted by several men who had held me in a deserted house and tortured me for two days. There was no way I would tell them about Mr. Seems and I think Mr. Seems knew that obviously. As a matter of fact when I was released from the hospital I was told they had arrested those responsible for my abduction. I said nothing. When it came time to go to court and confront my attackers I entered cautiously. I had never seen these men before. I knew to keep my silence. During the course of the trial I looked around and saw Mr. Seems standing at the back of the room. He mouthed something to me that I did not exactly understand. I turned back around in my seat and sitting beside me was the girl who had sat over me and bludgeoned my eye. When she smiled at me her teeth were covered in blood. I suddenly stood up in the courtroom and turned toward the door and Mr. Seems was not there. I bolted towards the door knocking the guard into the seats. Once outside I looked both ways then I ran as fast as I could across the street where I ducked into a printing store and beside me as I closed the door was Mr. Seems. He stared back at me for a long second then asked, “You feeling better?”

A lick of disgust, a terrible dream.

nightmarish cutting out of teeth burning of the flesh allowing it to heal then burning it again repeating these steps until the tension overcomes the victim revulsion scatology igniting the eyelids and filming the loss of vision a calming for unregenerate affection

Walter Seems_ tears at his clothes and is soon naked. I’m standing directly behind him and watching as three victims struggle against the weight of the stones he has placed atop them. A hole dug three feet deep and six feet wide is slowly filling with water. Walter Seems motions to his followers of which I am now one, to get into position to capture these moments of terror and death in their eyes and ears_ with still and video cameras.

Pisan meanderings, soi-disant

sound swarming unintelligible depth of the body perishing into the ear canal pubic arteries primordial forms of aggression permeates thanatos debasement unnatural growth electrical wires to the genitalia pulling of the hair and making the victim eat it semen baths a means of one way nature forensic medical neuropsychiatric scars deformities deficiencies disfigurements

Underground where the heavens scintillate the species to a lesser form Walter Seems claws at the earth exploring the depths of the human character. But maybe I should go back to the beginning. I first met Walter Seems in the lobby of a hotel in Kansas City, Missouri. I was in town researching a story on the writer Megan Bretin. A woman who’s publishing house had attracted national attention when she began publishing the letters, notes, photos, and journals of convicted murderers. I was to meet her in the bar for an interview but was cornered by Mr. Seems. He knew why I was in town and who I was to meet. He told me that Miss Bretin could never explain what he could show me. I was a little early for the interview so I went outside with Mr. Seems so we could talk and I could smoke a cigarette. That was the last time I knew I had any choice whatsoever in anything at all.

Heaven is full of madness.

death hurled in blood an implosion of arterial silence bound by the wrist internal hemorrhages bathing burns cutting away of the genitals and forced to swallow injections of metal shavings eating the meat of the roasted newborn falling asleep in the victim’s mouth urination/defecation brothels of feces shouting of nails fellatio of blood asphyxiation hermetically sealed shrapnel of bone beaten starved and chained

Night falls and we’re already deep under the earth. Sounds of the night echo badly in the tunnels_. For the first time I was permitted to move about at my own freewill. While the others slept I went down into the many levels. Down and down until I reached a great wooden door that concealed the last passage way. I opened the door to reveal an immense darkness. At once a flame ignited and in the flickerings of flame I saw Mr. Seems. As the flames grew larger I noticed Mr. Seems had lit a huge pile of corpses. What I saw next tore the breath from my lungs. I fell to my feet and wanted to tear my face apart so I could not see. Mr. Seems had crucified at least two hundred men, women, and children. The youngest he had impaled. The women disemboweled post mortem. Mr. Seems turned to me, “You smell that? Soon you’ll learn to taste it.”

Human blood, animal blood.

pathogenic influence caves of abuse congenital weakness of the abdominal wall abstinence from the pleasure of defecation sexual psychiatry a burden spoiled by irrational behavior promiscuous illness an effect repellent potent vomiting isolation breathing digestion of epileptic methamphetamine

Above ground Mr. Seems roamed the streets, lurking in the alleys and becoming one with the shadows until his grasp took form. Back into the hole Mr. Seems smelled of violence. Depravity in his eyes_ he sat down before me and offered to talk. “I can see it in your eyes, you want to talk. Ask me.
“I would like to hear you’re story, the past history,” I said. “If I am to write about you I have to know more about you.” As I asked this question I almost recoiled back into the blackness. Mr. Seems stood above me and I became very scared. He nodded and I tried to catch my breath. As he began to pace back and forth he began to talk. I tried my best to get it all down as fast as I could.

Intestinal embrace_ (Jeremiah, 19:9)

nonsexual frenzy eroticized and deliberate microscopically intact ligature acrylic fibers sexual culverts hollow of the sacrum discolorations of the anterior hair line desiccation corpuscles digested in revulsion the sanctification engenders halves of an exception dispossessed into humiliation
anal discourse cooked down to blood reciprocal punctures fucked to submission blind less gentle for the length

Mr. Seems sat down and started to explain. His voice now almost in a tone that was peaceful. But I knew not to let my guard down. He said, “One morning when I was sixteen years old I looked up and across the field was a young girl named Odetta. Both her parents were dead. Her mother was raped by her father, and he held her until the day she died. She was raised by a white man who shaved her head everyday, he collected her hair until he had enough to make a noose and hung her from the ceiling. Then fucking her, inching her down until she was tall enough to stand for herself. Then one day she cut his throat and soaked the walls with his blood and slipped away into the faintness of the night. My father took one look at her covered in blood and at me then went back to plowing. I never told him what went on but I think he knew. We never really fell in love but we did our share of killing. Anyway, my job growing up was to help bury someone when they died, and in those days there was a lot of black people dying. A man named Poole taught me how to dig the holes right. He always said to me, “Dig it just a little deeper and not so wide.”
That said Mr. Seems stood and seemed to hear something I could not. He turned to me and said, “Come on, something ain’t right.”

Proximity, exit_ .

smoke loitering from the lips scorching born demented by thirst resorption exceeds consumption preparation for herbs cloth sewn into the open wound corpse’s head entomologist’s pupa like an erection ejaculates maggots which bless and sanctify

Above ground Mr. Seems noticed a man moving in the darkness around his house. Mr. Seems placed his hand on my shoulder and presses me into the ground. I took the hint and waited. Mr. Seems disappeared into the blackness. Suddenly the man came back into view and just as suddenly Mr. Seems came from behind and picked the man up by the throat and in one motion broke the man in half, his body going limp. My flesh trembled at the sound of the bones cracking in the night air. Mr. Seems called for me to come over. I moved closer and noticed that the man was my Father. I began to cry and shake with rage. I tore into Mr. Seems as hard as I could. Mr. Seems just laughed. I cursed him and Mr. Seems laughed even louder. He smashed his fist into my face and I felt the bones crack and my eye begin to bleed. Mr. Seems screamed at me, “Motherfucker, you want to feel what it’s like!? I’ll fucking break you until you can’t breathe! I’ll burn a hole straight through to the bone then bring you back!” He then took the body of my Father and began to tear it to shreds. Taking the arms he beat them into the ground until the marrow blew in the autumn wind like flakes of cocaine. The legs, the head, everything while I watched. By the time he was finished I could hardly breathe and finally passed out. When I woke I had a rickety chain around my neck and I was hanging down a well. One move and I would drown. I was there for three days. On the third day Mr. Seems had the others pull me up and drag me back down into the tunnel. I was given food and water and my wounds seen too. I couldn’t see Mr. Seems, but I knew he was there.

Burdens exceed desire, blowflies.

colonize the decaying flesh intimacy portents maggots eat quicker in the light mortar mixed with wine paring the nails inundation preferences of the dead defile entrails profaning grotto hysteria inebriated neglect necromancy maltreated anoint molested exhumed burned alive massacre orgy consumed boiled psychopath ferocity deprivation false walls in tunnels bone conductor microphones garrotte claustrophobia electricity irritation unbearable itching ypheric not quite dead asphyxiating nothing left but the smell

My Father was looking for me. How would he know where to find me. The more I thought about it, the more I convince myself it could not have been my Father. Mr. Seems comes over to me out of the blackness grabs me by the chin pulls my face close to his and says very coldly, “Motherfucker, you’re gonna learn what I teach you, do what I tell you, and kill what I say kill.” Then Mr. Seems brought the black female into the room and gave her an injection that put her to sleep. Taking a large knife he opened her stomach and as the blood began to gush from her he took my hand and shoved it into her bursting digestive system.

Strength is felt in different lengths of rope.

saurian totemic indelible withdrawing coarsely intimates siblings consecrate practical coercion halo labor vaporous latinate vocabulary repellent homiletic elliptical cryptic structures resurrected paranoia illegible impertinence of a prehistoric rose malarial psychiatry voracity infatuation intimation blaze texture

After Mr. Seems finished ripping open her body he had me remove each organ and label it. It took hours and by the time I finished I could no longer smell the stench but for days after I could not get the taste out of my mouth. The next morning I awoke by the Mississippi River shaking from the cold and listening as the rain moved across the fields on its way back home to its muddy graveyard.

Membranous tissues, a sensualization of birth as a deterrent, an excavation of the bloodstream.

bred into birth bulimia lice magnified seared with the gnawing flesh of desire quick breaths drawn from saliva_ an impression on the plastic bag matches the face of the victim like an etching hair assumes length smells divine the drowning red river of blood_

Still wet from the rain I turned to the horizon and saw Mr. Seems coming towards me. At first I thought to run then I figured why fight it. He had me and he knew it. I wanted the story and I got it. My journalistic career would end with the most infamous story anyone ever told or witnessed. Mr. Seems walked over to me and fell to his knees. He stared at me for a moment then began clawing at the earth, he didn’t stop until he had dug down six feet. He opened the door of a coffin and took out the bones of his lover Odetta and the infant. Laying the bones down carefully he leapt up from the hole and sat down facing me.

Desecration, narrowing the senses

half waking hysterical nature darkens the heavens of illimitable decay purgatory purified hallowing incurably withdrawing swallowing thirsting wet upon the ceiling

“Before I left to go into the army Odetta and I came here together. We were still warm with the blood of four bodies upon our lips. We both knew what was going to happen. Odetta brought a newborn infant in her hands and laid it on the ground. I raised my hatchet and cut off Odetta’s head. Her body went limp and fell on top of the infant, her blood spilling over it. Her cries hardly covering the roar of the river that began to rage in all its dark wonder. I quickly dismembered Odetta while the child screamed. I dug down into the earth and ripping the flesh from Odetta’s body. I threw the child into the hole along with her bones. I stretched her flesh over them both and filled the hole with the damp earth. It was the end of four years of non-stop terror. We followed our hearts and never let it distract the soul.”

Unspeakable vulgarity, a new day and a golden dawn.

shrieking overhead recurring dreams a wailing bodily revelation nesting fuck full a harsh flooding of earthly means vaginal hair streaming with blood quoting tequila through cold murderous bourbon eyes_

“Odetta always said she didn’t want to live without me. There was always a thought that she might get caught after I left so it was never said straight out. We just did it. Besides, I had always wanted to kill her. Anyway, I got drafted into the Army and then off to Vietnam. I don’t know about anyone else but I felt at home there. Wherever you looked, wherever you turned your head, you smelled blood and death in the air. While I was in Graves Registration there was a guy worked with me named Gann. He used to talk to the bodies occasionally, pulling one from the bag now and then and photographing the body, taking great care to piece together the riddled corpse for the family. I never saw the need for it, but that was his thing. Gann got arrested one day by the Saigon Police for beating a prostitute to death after she got up to leave before she came. He was a crazy motherfucker. I remember one day it was around the time of the Tet offensive we received hundreds of bodies. A Colonel came into our area and told us to load all of the bodies into three trucks. I heard that they cremated the bodies to keep the body count down. It was clear the war was over long before that. Eventually it came time for me to go home. I didn’t want to leave and come back to Odetta’s cold body being eaten away. So I took the dog tags of a soldier who was in the Lurps and set out to Cam Ne and took up with a platoon. They were so stricken for live bodies they never said a word about who I was and where I came from.”

The agony of passion, Christ’s husk.

influence of bile parasitically disorienting for a tongue sewn into linen a blessing of humiliation sterile agony grotesque withdraw the remnants chemical fortifications errant breaths

For a long while Mr. Seems sat silent as if he was tearing the words from his memory like a great Komodo dragon, his mouth wet with deadly bacteria that would certainly kill. With his rough hands he just sat and polished the bones of Odetta’s skeleton. Mr. Seems smashed the skull of the infant he had thrown into the grave with Odetta and used it to catch the rain. Mr. Seems offered the skull to me and though I was disgusted by it, I drank the rain he collected in it. Mr. Seems looked up at me and said, “One day a Vietnamese boy came walking into our camp and looking up I saw he was strapped with dynamite from his neck to his feet. The first thing I thought of was to shoot him and I did, without thinking. While everyone rushed to see who had fired their weapon I marveled at the fact that the VC had gotten close enough to walk the boy into camp. Anyway, we went on a patrol that night to seek out these VC. Actually it was just an excuse to murder. All the massacres you read about in books or news reports were nothing compared to what we did. We skinned entire families. Then the next morning I disappeared. Arriving in Chuc Doc after walking all night long through the jungle I reported to a platoon at Cu Chi. I then spent the next two years in the tunnels. Once I came upon a woman giving birth in one of the tunnels. I sat in the dark corner and the man delivering the child didn’t notice me. When the baby exited his mother’s womb I shot a single bullet into the temple of the man delivering the child. The mother screaming looked around but could not see me. I slowly made my way out of the tunnel and told my Commander there was nothing down there. I had merely fired a round to kill a viper that Nung over my head. The company moved on and I doubled back. Back inside the tunnel I found deep in the earth a huge chamber where the mother lay asleep with her child. There was nothing there to stop me. No one to tell me to stop. Believe me that is something you don’t want to see. When I left the entire tunnel was wet with blood. After I drug their bodies up to the surface I filleted them and set fire to their bones. Then I hid and waited to see the reaction of the VC to what I had done. I sprung from my hiding place and killed them all except for one. Him I sent back to his command with a message carved into his stomach. After a while no one in my company came around me. When I went into a tunnel I might stay down for six or seven hours. Like I said before, after four years I decided it was time. But I was just getting started.

Revulsion becomes corrosive.

white-bearded reptilianism deteriorated ejaculatory wakening naturalistic species shitting glossolalia pierce malarial hair madness virtuosi excrement poisonous trough clenched erect clothed himself in blood ritualizing copulation wailing trembling calcareous handfuls coiling the pulse numb cold exemplified needle-like immensity inscribing second birth

Mr. Seems stood up and for a moment I actually thought he would just walk away. He turned toward me and said, “Come on, you gotta learn sometime.” We walked until the sun began to rise. Mr. Seems ducked into the woods and eventually we came out in a neighborhood that was still fast asleep. We approached a window and saw a man and woman making love. Just as she knelt to take his cock in her mouth Mr. Seems burst through the window. The couple rose to their knees on the mattress but soon stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the eyes of Mr. Seems. I climbed inside the window along with Mr. Seems and couldn’t begin to hide the erection I had. Mr. Seems got right to work. As the couple watched he ripped off his shirt and moped the sweat from his brow then threw the shirt on the bed. He then lit the shirt with his lighter and grabbed the man by the throat. As the flame began to blaze he burned off the pubic hair of the man and told me to collect it up in my hands. The woman began to scream incessantly. When she tried to escape I caught her behind the neck and sent her to her knees. Dragging her back to the bed I dislocated her wrist and she reached over with her other arm to grab it, that’s when I flipped her over on her stomach. Mr. Seems just stared at me and said, “Do it!” I jerked down my pants, tore off my shirt and shoved my cock in her ass. I jerked her head back until she screamed. Mr. Seems grabbed a pair of scissors off their dresser and sliced off the man’s cock. He pulled me off of the woman and rammed the man’s cock in her ass and pressed her face into his bloody crotch. I found myself wanting more. The man punched me in the face as he railed at anything he could get a hold of. Before I could hit him back Mr. Seems cut off his breath by squeezing his windpipe. The man went limp and Mr. Seems began stabbing him as the woman became to hyperventilate and pass out. Mr. Seems grabbed the body of the man and told me to bring the woman. Down we went into the basement. Mr. Seems grabbed a hammer and began to smash the concrete foundation to bits. When he reached fresh earth he dug about three feet down and entered a tunnel. Mr. Seems pushed the body of the man down into the tunnel and then the woman. Once inside the tunnel we placed the bodies in a huge wheelbarrow. The tunnel went for about fifty yards. Soon after many turns we came to a work center that looked familiar. I realized I had been here before. In the corner was the first victim I had met in the tunnel or should I say what was left of him. On the walls were hundreds of knives, daggers, and surgical instruments. I now knew where I was and what I was to do. For the very first time I realized I had reached the point Mr. Seems had talked about. Looking at the nude body of the woman I could taste it. I wanted it. It’s safe to say that even when her blood had blocked my vision, when her flesh became one with the room, I still wanted to fuck her. This feeling had always been inside of me...and now it had to come out.

Bone breaks in different patterns, often with jagged edges.

monsoons of venison urethral sounds repitation psychiatric exacerbate porcelain slurred afterbirth cock smoke crucify howling whores haunching gallows undulating gasoline streamers aorta slow squirm walls that scream infestation heaping semen bone avails flesh peeling waist ligament stretching smell mutilated blackness flash of consummation castration of glass slivers an archaeologist vomits into a grave extremities nausea drowned snatch shitting blood lard traction relapsing meatless filth absorbing swallowing fucking dead the exposed victim haunted scented greased cuming dead skin lush with a tongueless larynx wired to the excess of a thousand hallucinating rectums glazed and extended curving into insane microcosms of cannibalistic restrictions bodies nailed by welding piranha grinding hair teeth and bone like a malnourished kerosene swilling prostitute draining cotton like a hopeless syringe dry fucking its own shadow born of the apparatus a convulsion pliable with white phosphorus assuming humiliation sexually half-erect hermaphroditic and unnerving sharpened precipitated anal passing kneading the polished bent sealed dry flesh with simple mother fucking marshes of compressed sighing manure-like adhesive drolling the fattish leather disclosure crams rotting meat into lotions splattered on the living its urinals climbing like ammonia excreted like a playing sweetness like a vein parboiled by intestines opiates a menacing bait beating children with a frequency once reserved for the days before penis saturation buggery larval leaves black hemorrhaging hairs vertebrae of intense burned glass streaming and impregnated infected bruises constant flesh blurred by sand unnerving irritations every orifice on the verge of death_

Shivering against the tunnel wall I begin clawing at the earth. Soon I am swallowing my tongue, writhing uncontrollably. Mr. Seems comes over to me runs the blade of his knife into my mouth and slices my tongue in two. Blood pouring from my mouth the others scramble to catch the blood in glass vials and collecting the dry earth now damp with my blood. Finally I regain my bearing and look over to see the couple who's bodies don’t exactly look like the human form. Their bodies have been cut, sliced, and molded into shaping the upside down swastika of the Hermetic cross. About twenty feet away Mr. Seems sits relaxing and reading from my notebook. What was he reading, what did I write?

You can’t taste the shit for the smell.

undisturbed discarnate aching breaths burying the needle in the roof of the mouth fingers breaking scissors opening noisily screaming into the torn flesh neck bent in the abdominal wall gustatory/olfactory side of appetite scrotal pre-ejaculatory fluid rhythmic becoming shallow darkening the clitoral hood

Waking up from a deep sleep I noticed the others were rushing about, their greedy mouths watering. I rose to my feet and noticed that Mr. Seems lay prostrate on the examination table. Knives were thrust into his side and the blood caught in glass vials. Then the blood was put through a distillation process, the finished product to be served with dinner. Mr. Seems opened his eyes and looked up at me and said, “You hungry? Hope you brought a good appetite. You fucked her so you can eat her as well.” His laugh told me all I needed to know.

the airway is blocked by ground glass intercourse blood spilling sheep membrane unbroken hymen spontaneously bleeds impotence extraneous bleeds impotence shoulders enact earthly death irregular womb clotting coherency coerced baptism martyrologies heated walls auto-de-fe tightening the serpent like Milton to Galileo penitential garment chains of despotism Qur’anic verses dyspepsia perspiring dried intestine

I was told by the others to meet above ground in Mr. Seems kitchen. As I made my way up through the many levels pages from my notebook littered the path. Upon reaching the surface the house was much farther away then I remembered. As I walked I noticed one of the followers lying in the tall weeds perfectly still. I saw on his arm thousands of swarming ants. As they began to swarm up his body he sat straight up and another follower rose from the ditch beside him and focused his video camera as he began to twitch and panic as the ants filled his mouth. The cameraman held out a torch and from within his insect ridden lips spewed gasoline vaporizing the ants in mid-air. He then ducked under the water and others helped to remove the ants. Then slowly, they made their way along the path. Once inside I saw the house was ridden with structures of human bone. They were immense and protruded from the walls. Lying in a neat pile was Mr. Seems scrolls of human flesh containing his many horrifying findings. Mr. Seems sat at the kitchen table reading from my notebook. Looking up and seeing me, he tore another page from the book and threw it on the floor. Mr. Seems smiled, “Mistah Kurtz-he dead.” His laugh became infectious and the whole house roared. I managed a smile.

Cordage: the Gein Configuration

Laotian female leash in knots of trilobal nylon fiber transient caucasian pubic hair tire impressions fecal matter inverted asphyxiated large central pelvis cleaver hacksaw hatchet quality meat purging toxins unexpected blows forehead cut through the larynx internal external carotid arteries the initial rush of blood pumping the stomach (six liters) the jaw line large brain mass skinning the head removing the tongue diluting bleach solution sterilize slicing into muscle viscera flaying the carcass lifting up and peeling back the connective tissue external genitals a circle of skin worms exhuming the calf muscle pubic bone thoraic cavities the actual butchering chewing the usable meat on the arm washed thoroughly and quartered while hanging thin and wide strips of flesh three inches up from the ankle when cooked bones will become brittle after being baked and pulverized a walking abortion capable of absorption

Before me lay the body of the man Mr. Seems had killed. The body was bloated, his face swollen, and his arms and legs had been chopped into a fine matter and were now being cooked in a pan on the kitchen stove. Mr. Seems was in the living room talking on the phone. I overheard his voice but could not believe my ears, Mr. Seems was talking about me. On the table in front of me sat the man’s head. The smell of the body cooking filled the house. Mr. Seems was saying, “ÒI need to talk to him. I have a story to tell. A story he will want to hear.” Goddamn, what the fuck was he doing?

Nothing is postmortem.

tardieu spots petechiae purpura rectal temperatures cocks in formaldehyde blood collecting in the occipital areas of the brain interstitial inflammation removing the tongue intercerebral hemorrhages exsanguinated perforations intense dehydration hematomas of non-clotted blood woven bone mediastinal soft tissue excessive violent vomiting embolisms lacerations cerebrospinal fluid crests of the gyri sac of blood alcohol 280g/dL incised ooze serological jugular mutilate genitalia venous nonpsychotic projection cadaveric tracheotomy dilated capillaries chemical asphyxial crucifixion dehydration bowel linear scars skin avulsed scalded scalp subdural bleed sleep submersion collapse of chlorine edema semen specific oral swabs impression of teeth anaphylactic deaths 2 liters of blood adjacent uterus expulsion of the fetus postabortal bile urine stomach contents lethargic methamphetamine excreted larval habitat fauna hibernating hoverfly aphids bagworms similar lesions knee amputation morphologic patterns stools excised of breast ducts of meperidine 75 mg IM oral clefts limb anomalies retardation phosphorus ingestion pediatric hematology drug myopathies

For the first time one of the followers spoke directly to me. He walked over to me from the stove and sat down at the table. His voice was tired but there was a disturbing anxious quality to his eyes. “I spent nine years nailed to a cross down there in the depths. One day Mr. Seems came and took me down. The next thing I knew I woke up under water. This has been going on for a long, long time. I looked over my shoulder into the living room to see if I could see Mr. Seems but I could not. When I turned back around the man who was sitting there just a second ago was now bleeding onto the floor. Half of his head was missing and he had vomited on the table. I jumped to my feet but Mr. Seems was there to push me back into my chair. “Going somewhere?”

Blood leeched, immersion in water.

200 eggs layed daily piles of chaff dried medicinal herbs aromatic foliage peripheral speech abstract concrete behavior syntactic residue of morphemes paraphasia desquamate executrixes the Grafenberg spot placenta rickettsia nepenthe

Preparation of the meal was left to me. On the counter sat a detailed list of instructions. Half of the man’s body was still to be skinned and washed. This was the most horrible fucking thing I had ever done. However, an occasional hand on my shoulder told me silently that I was going to do it. My brain burned and my left side suffered innumerable tiny pinpricks of pain. It was the onset of a migraine headache. I hadn’t had one the whole time I had been here. However long that had been. My vision blurred and constantly I had to shake my head violently to attempt to ease the pain. This was going to be a long night.

Chewing on the dull end of the knife.

following myself back to mouthfuls of roaches boiling rotting meat extracting the stench breathing methane devouring the worms that ooze from my flesh the grave crowds around you

Dinner consisted of several different and very distinct cuts of meat. There was also an appetizer which included the contents of the victim’s stomach which had been pumped shortly before his death. A pinch of kosher salt and just a little olive oil, that was it. During dinner I vomited three times and had to continue until I cleaned my plate. Each time I vomited, one of the others would come and collect the remains. Each time managing to not quite completely clean it up. So the stench fills the room along with the smell of death. Mr. Seems never looked up from his plate.

An audible abyss, parasitism.

scratching at the bloodied lips of the forehead scissors ejaculating diarrhea the dead increase the ache of cannibalistic dharma chewing off their testicles squalor breeds a non-dying non-breathing escape into the blackness where death is no longer concerned or aware

Wet with blood that splashed up from the floor, I held pieces of the woman’s corpse over the sink and watched the others, watch me. The phone rang and I heard Mr. Seems answer. He slammed down the phone and came quickly into the kitchen. He told me I was to get cleaned up and come with him. I was taken by one of the females into the bathroom and cleaned up. She slowly undressed and stripped my clothes from me with a flourish. Her nipples brushed against me as she scrubbed my belly. When she took my cock in her hands I suddenly became erect. She stopped and stared at my cock for a long moment then looked up at me and smiled, her teeth bloodied and wet. She knelt before me and took one of my balls in her mouth. I stood motionless, the cold water beading on my thighs. She swallowed my cock whole, eight inches down her throat. My cock tightened and my knees went weak. As I came in her mouth she shoved her fist in my ass. I screamed and she began beating me in the face with her other hand. I tried to fight back but felt hands holding me down. Another of the females had come into the room and was also naked. She put her hand on the shoulder of the other and she stopped swinging at me. My cock now limp she took slow smooth strokes and rubbed my body clean. I was dressed in clean clothes and lead outside where Mr. Seems sat behind the wheel of a gray pickup truck. He said, “We’d better get started, get in.”

Flies of the flesh, non-spore inhalation.

acarophobia perspiration excessive growth of hair infantile incestuous desires libido-activating absent excretion of aketosteroids concealed of laughter sibling epileptic genital pathologic intoxication allotriophagy convulsions of malnutrition syphilitic amentia discharging libido irregularity of stool anal-erotic anal castration anxiety unconscious gratification ejaculation praecox word blindness infectious urine intestinal decomposition anal birth blood serum urethral eroticism infrequent fetal bites clitoromania
feces

Walter Seems and I are parked across the street from a house in the cold of morning light. After a few hours a man exits the house and begins to walk down the street. I ask Mr. Seems, “Who is he?” Mr. Seems turns to me and says he’s the husband of Megan Bretin. I guess you wouldn’t recognize him. Here take the wheel, stay close behind him and if he turns to look behind him come up beside him immediately.” That said Mr. Seems climbed into the back of the truck and I started slowly behind the man as he walked. After about two hundred yards he turned and I sped up to him as Mr. Seems grabbed the man by the neck and pulled him into the truck. I slid over in the seat and Mr. Seems got behind the wheel. He turned down a street quickly then another, then another. We came to a warehouse and Mr. Seems and I got out. Through a door I saw a large open room. A single rope hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. We entered and were quickly met by a woman. Mr. Seems who had thrown the man over his shoulder now eased him down onto the concrete floor. He then tied one of his legs to the rope and walked away. Mr. Seems walked over and said to me, “Cynanthropy, it’s a symptom in which the patient believes himself to be a dog. You’re about to see something very interesting.”

Encysted hormonal migration of the human animal.

one can never question humidity isolates burn to infection breathing morphologically the breeding mucus that hibernates in the verrucose walls the digestive tract inherits sound disorienting oral projection when impulse comes to smells

From the corner of the room crawled on all fours a man who was naked. His head was shaved and he growled and drooled madly. He had obviously had been there the whole time, cowering. The man who was tied to the rope still had not awakened. He would soon I thought. On all fours he crawled across the room until he reached him. He stopped and smelled then attacked the man tearing at his clothes and soon revealing his pale skin. When his teeth sunk into the flesh the man awoke. He screamed and tried to struggle away but it was no good. Mr. Seems stood there beside and quietly watched. When blood had overcame the victim and the attacker we got back into the pickup truck and left. As we drove I felt my flesh tighten. I closed my eyes and I saw the man on all fours chew off his fingers. I saw him tear away the bone with his teeth. I jumped awake lifting my body from the seat. I looked around and we were in the parking lot of the paper where I worked. Across the street on the phone talking earnestly was my boss Howard Leeds. Mr. Seems crossed the street and Mr. Leeds quickly hung up the phone. They talked for quite awhile and when Mr. Leeds drove away Mr. Seems returned to the truck. As Mr. Seems settled in next to me and said nothing. There was a long pause and then he said, “There’s a warrant out for your arrest for the murder of your Father and the husband of Mrs. Bretin. I told Mr. Leeds that I had seen you that evening at the Hotel. We talked and you returned to the bar and that was the last I saw you. I invited him and the detectives to interview me anytime, especially at home.”

Bodily excretion and the word of God.

proliferating flesh lactating the ovens engaging the wounds with nails blocks of wood menstruating sweet-smelling elongations smooth and angelic a insecticidal species asexually-contaminated eggs that becomes gregarines

Upon returning to the house of Mr. Seems we plunged deep into the depths and found those that were there were very active. Several were collecting the bones and spent flesh and gathering them into piles. The glass vials were being categorized and labeled. I noticed on some of the vials that they were labeled with my name. I had a strange sense overcome me as I saw my blood, my flesh, and my marrow sloshing about and being put carefully into wood crates and sealed. When I asked Mr. Seems if we were leaving he replied, “No, just reorganizing some things. Lend a hand.” I took the legs of a headless victim who’s body had begun to deteriorate. The woman that I was helping was the same one who had sucked my cock and beat me in the face until she was stopped. Her arms glistened with beads of sweat and her nipples shone clearly through the gray tee shirt she wore that was covered in blood. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Seems watching the two of us closely. She bent down to collect the scraps and shards of bone by her feet and Mr. Seems hit her across the back with the butt of the rifle. She fell and blood spewed from her shirt. When she tried to raise up again Mr. Seems hit her again. This continued until she could not get to her hands and knees. Then Mr. Seems took a shard of bone and stabbed her in the base of the neck paralyzing her almost immediately. He instructed me to help pick her up and we laid her on the examination table. Removing her clothes I noticed the bruises and the wounds that had gone untreated. The pubic area was shaved clean. There was immense and delicate tattoos that sweated tribal velocity. Marks that projected the nucleus of a cat who’s monotonous nostrils did prove controversial and without the scent that overlapped the senses. Fibers of a very brusque rope stuck out from her vagina that glistened with the warm bloody fluids of a menstruating viper. Mr. Seems shouted to me, “Taste the vapors, taste the arteries that hatch nerves dentate fibers. There are cutaneous differences you will feel with your cock as you rip into her. Get on top of her and lap at the blood from her cunt! Fuck her eyeballs! Fill her retina with hateful cum. Give this slab of meat bilateral pain. Her musculature burning with the saliva of all of her limbs!” I took the crude blade and severed her arms. Removing her digits, her fanciful fingers that Mr. Seems took immediately and inserted into the ten orifices of her body. The night went on, endlessly.

Discharged, to fall upon the extremities reproduced and muscles stretched.

Across the fields that surrounded the property of Mr. Seems sat two detectives of the Missouri State Police. In their possession they held search warrants for the property of one Mr. Seems. The search warrants they had acquired from a judge after the Detectives had questioned Mr. Leeds. It seemed that there was something in Walter Seems military record that suggested his behavior was indeed criminal. They sat there, engines running, waiting for the go ahead from their superiors to advance upon the property. Shortly there arrived two van loads of swat teams to accompany the search and to guard against anything they might encounter. Little did they know. Little did they know.

Moving as one the vehicles swarmed onto the property. Two of the swat team members who had rode along, hanging onto the back of the van, leapt into the front door and were impaled by one of the immense structures of bone Mr. Seems had constructed. Hearing the bitter cries of agony the rest of the officers rushed in to find blood seeping out of the doorway. Desperate highs of adrenalin are quelled into revulsion as next they see twelve-foot ant beds pouring red fire ants engulfing the two dying officers. The Detectives take control of the situation and order all to spread out and search. This is going to be difficult bearing in mind the squalor and bone. Three officers manage into the first bedroom and find three victims impaled upon another victim. The head of a man stretches out from the corpses, the expression on his face is hard to decipher due to the maggots crawling from his mouth, eyes, and dangling from his fine blonde hair. One of the Detectives makes his way into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator to fine it stuffed with meat and neatly packed. On the top shelf, he doesn’t see behind the meat, is the head of his mother. He asks another one of the officers to take out the meat and bag it as evidence. He turns his attention to the sink where his partner finds a rattlesnake coiled and silent. Before he can turn and run the snake catches him in the eyes. As he hits the ground others creep from the corners of the house and overtake the officers, sending them all outside screaming, and vomiting the poison. After a while only two out of twelve were still alive. The desperate call went out over the radio and reinforcements arrived. Many of them met the same faith. Those that remained began a slow search of the house. The Detective entered the house again and on the kitchen floor found the head of his mother. Inscribed on the back of her head, carved into her skull was a warning. It read, “All our service, In every point twice done and then done double - Macbeth.” Pouring from the head of his mother came hornets that stung the detective causing his airway to close. He lay there helpless, his body contorting wildly. Suddenly another of the officers noticed him and with his knife tore open the detective’s throat to allow him to breathe. He called for an ambulance which was already on the way. The detective died shortly thereafter, the decapitated skull of his mother drawing flies. Underground Walter Seems listened intently.

The contraction of muscle, the slowing verbal DNA.

fetal papyrus uterine resorption sibling premature insemination quarantined terrifying fertility infantcide sonogram lineage raped suckled seminal Yahweh aroused orphaned monograph entrials oracular sedation placental membranes incest thanatology rhythms coerced urine pours from the walls erotically birth by guillotine formaldehyde recycling of organs dissection syphilis breastless hair exacerbated axle grease consumption crotch autoerotic uncited arousal ascending synapse fixate narrow frequencies increments the needle withdrawn

Walter Seems listened and he waited. After the initial rush of the house he and the others had carried several of the bodies underground. Like a tiger caring for her young, the others began to clean the bodies and collect the ants from the corpses. When the bodies were cleaned they began to lick the bodies ingesting the remanants of blood and larvae. When others began to arrive Mr. Seems hid in a hollowed section of the wall. He watched and waited. When everything had begun to settle down and the officers admitted the forensic team to collect and preserve the crime scene Mr. Seems took advantage of the situation. Everyone came up from the depths, there was work to do. Mr. Seems armed with a machete and a torch caught the first officer in the throat. The next two rushed toward him guns drawn but they were caught from behind by two of the others. The forensic team who had limited expierence with their weapons were caught unaware. They were grabbed by Mr. Seems and very quickly dismembered. All of the blood that spilled was used to paint the vehicles a very gruesome and horifying red. Bodies were hung in the trees and pieces and strips of flesh were hung from the ends of limbs. The members of the Forensic team were crucified together on a single thirty foot high cross. When all was done back underground we went to await the next wave.

nisi ipse intellectus

unconscious clitoral saliva heightened bleeding host oral menstruation fociles of hair introduced into the gums mutilating the tongue and condemning speech presupposing aging as hybrid ingredients as exculpating gestures irritating bowels burning sacred gnostic texts secured in respiration

From the moment of their arrival the FBI swarmed the entire area with the intensity of a cold-blooded murderer. Mr. Seems laughed from the hill that overlooked his property. The others sat nearby, waiting. Mr. Seems had left a trial of footprints in the mud made wet with the blood of the agents, leading directly to the tunnels. Inside the tunnels torches had been laid upon the floor of the tunnel to guide the agents down. We watched as at first two agents entered, and then ten more. Smoke began to billow out of the surrounding tree trunks that shaded the property. Then the trees caught fire. Then something happened that amazed me. The earth opened and blood began to spew from under the trees and reaching twenty to thirty feet in the air. As the other agents began to rush about and attempt to enter the tunnel we set out into the forest, toward the setting sun.

Mr. Seems led us to the thickest part of the forest. Once there we took the shovels fashioned from bone and began to dig. Occasionally we struck a body and the smell would permeate, still we dug. Like a looter masturbating in his own fluids I stopped and stood for a moment, stooped from the pain in my back. As the blinding sun seemed to peel back my lids and cram dirt and sweat into my eyes, Mr. Seems stood over me, a slight smile spread across his lips. A callus slowly wore its way through hours of spent flesh. By nightfall we were deep into the mosquito-infested tunnels. Through the crawl spaces I heard the others talking low. I lingered there and strained to hear their conversation. This is what I heard, “Fuck’em! Why wait in the tunnels, hit’em in their homes! Just kill every motherfucker we find!”

To define is to kill, to suggest is to create.

irregular seminal impotence herpes weeping coitus rarely eaten pleasure of fetishism penal eroticism sodomy eyes closing erect gangrene flesh marrow pulsing rotting bleeding rectum electrical ejaculating swelling urine stained teeth viral hernia intimate touching of the tongue swallowing and regurgitation anatomy being bodiliness extraneous burning invisibility concentration indecipherable posture unfastens the umbilical cord ancestral saliency genetic rationale achingly miscarried anesthetic masturbation anencephalic recordings of abdominal muscles neural codes intimate with the body gas emplacements acres of temples drenched in lard matching the strain spoiling fresh meat frescoes surrogate physics albino camellias grow out of season miraculously veining envelopes basted by crawling white mice embyros regenerating transsexualism progenitors of flesh beating the nub back into the hole lying thorazine stelazine saturation warm for the rain that separates plagiarism from willing anonymity igniting preservation toxicology holy institution unnatural cuts of glass growing into stone found by hands that know neither the water or stone trephines wandering uterus conditioned response psychalgia hysterical blindness pcp loins pigmented carcinoma rodent ulcer salivary glands impregnation bipolar structure heaven contagent gender head recoils harnessing Christ chewed off his arm to dislodge himself from the woman he was buried alongside four years before he hung on the cross purification of the grooves that outline Europa inmates penal Bodhisattvas insect lotus animal ingredients liquid coats ingredients burnt erect aboriginal phonetic monastery beatitude of primordial audible psychology disclipined habitation fasting ensnarled torrential excesses prostrate imperceptible cascading erections of excrement undulations strangling enveloping genitals to swell chlorinated intestinal phenobarbital herbicides stillbirth spontaneous abortion airway obstruction amniotic fluid membrane esophageal lesions dilation intercourse without taste savagery the palms of his hands sliced in two the fingers drove into the wrist supported by exposed bone don’t die unless you want to suffer exterminans fornication a bare foot a face lying in the mud madness in the night wrists bound with dark hair teeth removed put into a sack made of human hair flesh discarded cooked eaten buried burned used in so many ways

The next morning Mr. Seems took me to a house that included a crematorium.
Mr. Seems opened drawers that were cut into the walls. Inside were stacks of notebooks. I asked him, “Did you write these?” Mr. Seems replied, “Years of research. Time spent down there, putting it all into words.” Something in his eyes went cold. All of the life went away. Like a man walking the last mile after five years of solitary. He opened the door of the crypt. Cold air poured from the charnal. I didn’t dare to ask how many had entered. Mr. Seems walked down the hallway and opened a thick glass door, which led, three steps away to a immense steel door. Past the steel door and down a winding stairway I saw two hundred men, women, and children. They faces made no attempt at a expression. As one individual they all slowly sat down onto the concrete floor, which was hidden by three to four inches of water. Mr. Seems walked over and took a woman by the hair and she stood up immediately. Mr. Seems led her back through the doors and down the hallway. He left her standing by herself and came over to me. She undressed peeling slowly the rags that were her clothes. Her breasts were perfectly rounded. Her pubic hair had been shaved and was taped to her abdomen. Mr. Seems turned to me and asked me, “You want to fuck her?” Before he could say another word he shoved me at her, knocking her head into the wall and making a gash that slowly streamed blood. Mr. Seems opened the crypt and she rested her hands on the opening. She took one hand and spit in it and wet the lips of her pussy and turned back around. I felt of her back. It was colder than room temperature. I stood there for a moment and Mr. Seems hit me across the back of the head. I took out my cock and slid it into her pussy from behind. After a few minutes she took my cock out of her pussy and put it in her ass. This excited me to no end. As she began to cum Mr. Seems shoved her into the crypt and turned on the flames. I fell back and hit my head on the wall. Mr. Seems laughed louder than I had ever heard. It seemed to echo in the room, bouncing from the flames within the crypt and reverberating in my ears.

The snake returns to his hole.

leeches enduring dark electrifying ancestral darkness terrified buried alive nausea strength berated abscessed softening obsessive anatomy parasite invigorating claustrophobic disgust hounds throat blood of excrement an exhaustive animal hell’s heart pregnant swollen pouring from the mouth frequently tormenting pleasure trembling uncontrollably disturb exasperated sober unshaven brutalized exception drowned in a sewer of feces and wasted time hysterical insomnia a murderer’s hands nervous and unnatural full of aspiration beaten in silence coldness of breath and the weight of self-defecating pride a loving remembrance of hell sighing of blood splattering the ventricles lashing from the womb immersion into the vagina of life burning heaven into the darkness of hell feeling the crash stillness in concentration and half-light contemplating through damp cloths the last fumes of the body death dead poetical birth escalating the torment into the earth where the rain refuses the surface and anoints itself unto the dust of life

After a moment Mr. Seems dragged me outside and sat me down. Smoke billowed from the chimney and reached high into the heavens. For a moment I thought about the press coverage of the police and agents killed. I thought about those that I loved and those that mattered. I thought about myself. It didn’t matter anymore. This son of a bitch had a way of escaping everything. Much worse was the realization that slowly I was becoming him.

I smell you for my own.

horrors unconcealed collapsed screams deathbed sobering transmigration delicious and smoldering prostrate embodying masturbation with an Oedipal tinge stained a saintly white unburdened scraping the brain through sobriety screaming in a closed ward gushing blood alleviating filth unthinkable earsplitting sleep waking upon breath through dosages of impotence washing the dead like a headless child photographed in currency to sleep and listen intoxicated where insects lie an audience bruising the mist of decaying flesh to detoxify the birth process in impenetrable silence genocidal disfigurement luring the pain sanctuaries watery deep warm-bloodied unsemened blessed head warm thighed Buddha treading the immense blackness lashed by rain inundated dissolving perishing falling to prayer dispensing silence consenting sound through the body reverberations buried the dead in the house humans dressed as vultures an opening of stone burying the dead in a column of air an opening which encircles the earth like circuits of electricity spliced and imperceptible like an ant hill meandering like a serpent swallowing the milk-white elephant at its birth reigns of terror sloughing of the skin disturbing dispensing orgasmic disfigurement animal experimentation verbal memory mongoloid animalistic double consciousness rodent cortex thickness fetus of the developing brain Broca’s aphasia amphibians extracting ecstasy infecting laceration consummation exposing language to vulgarity and the impulse that is constraint and belief a toughening abyss defilement drain of isolation monasteries of violence

Mr. Seems woke me from my thoughts with a slap across my face. “You liked fucking her didn’t you? Well fuck however many you want! One by one or in two’s it doesn’t matter. When you are done fucking, walk them all to the oven. Do not save anything from the bodies.” Then he stood up and began to walk back into the forest. He then turned and said, “I’m be watching.”

I sat there for the rest of the afternoon and into the night. Below ground, in the stench of the concrete chamber, water as putrid as the Ganghes, sat two hundred men, women, and children waiting on me to die. Years ago I had been to Auschwitz. I had seen the camp and had talked to many of the survivors. God, how I hated this. I decided to leave. I waited till dusk and slipped away into the woods. For miles I ran then, I walked. Finally I reached a clearing, and there hundreds of yards away was a narrow country road. I stood there looking back and forth. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I looked back towards the woods. Mr. Seems was not there as I expected him to be. I stood there for a very long time. As cars passed I thought. I turned around and headed back. I didn’t know it yet, but I was being followed. It wasn’t Mr. Seems as you might think. No, it was a man I had ever met. This man who was blood related to Mr. Seems, would change my life, and in the process change the world.

Disorienting, withdrawn

bruised ribs crying heroin strangulation mattress redemption eradicated polemical submission permeates the cock of Christ revealed before his eyes penetrating repulsive excrescences half-whispered fetishism crude ignorance self-fucking rust well-being self-sacrificing atheism resurrection of conscious encyclopedic species sensuous debase temperament wretched troubled the eloquence of inhuman nudes spoiled supernatural baptism intercourse grace no life is desolate purifying purified manifesto of celibacy coarseness of the grotto self-elaborated martyr Solomon Dahmer effeminate inflicting a gulf that makes blood skeptic of cruelty dissent forces itself upon the unknowing orifice flushed by wine gnashing howling the unconscionable dead disheveled wounds exposed limbs pressed superannuated fragrance garlands of sweat and pubic aroma liberating the anonymous burgeoning nothing inalienable gluttony of the human form portions reduced and clarified oscillating pool of semen thundering to a dark and slow moving silence of a augustinian monastery a dissertation of syphilis recanted the exodus variations through paths of human hair and shattered teeth where floorboards bleed in contemplation of a worker’s clothes bathed in concrete blessing repetitive stalactites gathering the fragments with bruised yellow ass cheeks neighbouring chimeras blend the progress with an obscure leaf rolling then folding it to catch the perspiration death returns induced emptying between the thigh and wrist reaching dissatisfied into the wormy stillness of affection better suited for an autopsy a coal gray hairy alive nothing internal can be influenced a breath so entangled on its own

I retraced my steps back into the forest. Along the way it began to rain. I soon found myself upon a cabin that I had not seen before. Inside a fire was burning and the smell of coffee stretched through the storm. As I entered the cabin I felt a presence beside me. I turned and a black man in his sixties walked across the room and sat down in front of the fire. I stepped back outside suddenly. He didn’t turn back around to look at me. I began to run through the forest. Faster and faster I ran until I saw Mr. Seems in the distance, climbing out of a grave. I dropped to the ground and prayed he didn’t see me. Then I felt a hand on the back of my head. The man from the cabin looked down at me and said, “Come on, you don’t have to go back, you know.”

Caesarean Section, harness the skin; become filth.

rip open the clothes rip open the flesh rip open the stomach rip open the intestines vomit shards of bloodied glass into the soul burn it and swallow there’s no safe place in hell when you’ve hollowed the flame

I turned and the man was already down the path. I followed him back to his cabin. Once inside he offered me coffee and then sat down at the table. I gripped the cup and looked about the room. The walls were filled with books and curiously not one picture. I then looked across the table and into the eyes of the man. “My name is Bots. Walter Seems is my brother, I’m sorry to say. Anyone know where you are?” I looked him up and down for a moment, then managed to say, “No.” Then his eyes narrowed. “I know what you’ve done. I saw everything you did, don’t ask me how. Do you want to wash your hands of it, or do you want to continue? Before you answer me, I want to show you something.” He went into the room off the kitchen and brought back a notebook and laid it on the table. The writing in the notebook was in my handwriting. On the first page I had written, “Two hundred bodies and counting. The children were the hardest. Finally, I threw in four at a time. Makes no difference anyway. What to do with the scraps?” I stood up quickly, “I never did this! I never fucking did this! You hear me motherfucker, you cock-eating old man?!” Bots just sat there and pointed to my chair.

Where are the burns I gave you while you were sleeping as a child.

warming a pool of urine bacon wrapped bloating an uncomprehending and steamed reeking body shaving the orifice barefoot crawling a racial needle a leather emanated relief of stone and curry bathed in a shattering light

Still standing, I stepped back when Bots stood up. Bots said to me, “You enjoyed it didn’t you? Well, let me tell you about something you won’t enjoy.” Then he took me by the hand and I felt the coldness in his hand. His eyes were cold and lifeless. He said, “I’m dead. I’ve been dead since you met my brother. I’ve been dead since you were born.” I slid down the wall and sat in the doorway, the rain from the storm blowing against my face. How long had it been since I slept?

I slept for three days. When I awoke my clothes were soaked with sweat. I opened my eyes and Mr. Seems was in the living room in front of the fire talking to Bots. I was too tired to care. Bots was reading off the names of all the people I had killed. Mr. Seems would describe in detail everything that had happened to the body since it was taken into captivity. The words poured over me like hot oil. I did not want to live. I knew I should suffer but if I was to suffer, let me do it when I was dead. Then Mr. Seems came into the room and pulled me up from the bed. I dressed and went out into the living room and sat across from Bots. Mr. Seems sat down next to me. Bots continued reading the names.

Half-hesitant, into morning. Bodies piled upon my chest. All breathing a single breath, over and over.

muscles blood-shot walking in darkness following the smell pummeling the drunken flesh back to my own bed where atrocities are beaten into the bloodstream the mouth extends bone pubic hair makes good ash the pleasure in a kiss blood torn from the wrist where the heavens cannot purge the hatred of life weighing in the words there is nothing the eyes cannot look upon_

Mr. Seems got up from his chair and Bots told me to go with him. I turned and said, “You told me I didn’t have to go back!” Bots looked up at me and said, “You fell asleep, there’s nothing I can do for you now.” Mr. Seems led me back into the earth. The others were there, waiting. I saw the bone tools I had used before. The stretched human flesh that had been dried and used to write on. The journals of Mr. Seems were there. Also, there were journals on human skin that were written by me, in my handwriting. When I saw this I began to cry. Before the first tear could fall one of the females came over to me and slashed open my stomach. The intestines spilled out into my hands. I screamed but no words would come. Mr. Seems calmly walked over across the room, and sat down. For the first time he looked old.

The work went on. The bodies began to pile above my head. More and more things were not as they used to be. The others began to attack one another. Once when Mr. Seems and I broke into a house we found a murder in progress. A man had a family at knife point. The women were tied together with rope. The children were hanging upside down from the stairs. The man had his pants down around his ankles. Just as he grabbed one woman by the back of her head and forced her to suck his cock Mr. Seems burst into the room to screams. The man turned and fired a shot but missed. Mr. Seems took the gun away from him and sat down at the table. I made my way slowly into the room and watched the amazement of the family that followed my every move.

Contemplation

narcotic disintoxicated thoroughly unrepentant intense wet transmissions burning breathing sexual discretion concentrate bleaching Islam to the excesses of syncretic hybrid permeable liquid that inanimates four vagina eel screams into the nerve endings that control the bowels of so many bleeding phlegm thighs excretions excretions fill the lungs breasts eaten white flesh stripped burned and sodomized by the linghams of oxen testicles swallowed intercourse observable in the extremities each row of teeth removed through anal digression nipples of equivalent teeth haunched infancy enveloped coiled death is what it is perforated heredity philosophia pedagogue stream plethora of brow beds living ditch virginity the impulse wanes uncovering deathbed preying upon sin pubic hairs make delectable ash eyes breath desiccated leashed mosaic irrational celibate betrothed garrote predator cruelty undernourished handcuffed spittle sweat unopened scabs confession by boiling protege of cadavers interrupting whoredom itching wire cinematically bound vomited blood coughing semen adolescent madness hairs severed by dogs teeth pulling tearing at the hair signed confession placed in the flesh incarcerated water hose taped to the mouth severed limbs still heaving baptism apprentice a horror that writes a horror that procreates anarchy projecting itself upon the immaculate porcelain of dying languages a dialect lost in trade the scatological stammering the beatings coincided perfectly with the collapse of the veins

The man tried to escape. Mr. Seems grabbed him by the throat and sat him down in a chair opposite him. The man stared ahead without blinking. The family screamed for help. Mr. Seems looked around the room then said to the man, “Go ahead with what you were doing, I won’t stop you.” The man sat there for a long while then got up staring me in the eyes. Then he pulled up his pants and began to beat the woman over the head with the butt of his gun. I sat down next to Mr. Seems. One of the women never took her eyes away from me. Then I noticed something in her eyes. Then she spoke, ‘Chris?” She knew me! But who the hell was she? She repeated it again, “Chris? It’s you! But I thought you were dead...it’s Denise, your cousin! Oh my god, I remembered her now. I haven’t seen her in five years. The last time was at my Mother’s funeral in Sheffield, Alabama. Mr. Seems turned to me and smiled. The motherfucker knew. Mr. Seems walked over to her and began to untie her. But he didn’t untie her all the way. He lashed one hand to the door of the refrigerator, and the other to the faucet in the sink. The man who watched with interest, stopped hitting the woman and stood frozen. Mr. Seems turned to the man and said, “Here, she needs you.” And with that he shoved the man in her direction. The man hesitated at first but hit her in the stomach hard. She tried to recover as best she could but he hit her again. I grabbed his arm before he could hit her again. Mr. Seems tore me from him and sent me falling into the children who were slung from the ceiling. Mr. Seems then tore her clothes off her body and took the hand of the man and put it in her pussy. Then he said with a scream, “Here!”

Crucifixion is an act of creation.

seamless acts of lacerating a jaw with human teeth the explicit head of disembodied snakes who cook and strangle the dead back into the living concentrating the carnage into montage where each syllable of the narrator tears a layer of thick flesh from the body the leap from flames to pools of blood is managed by a sigh from heaven extraneous orgies of blessed atrocities scar the dying cold of death with life purify passivity repressed exploited asexual immobilized behavior unspeaking raw ministered venerations naturalistic obscenity consumption forced architecture tormented through all manners of speech

I don’t have to tell you about what happen next. The walls were covered in blood. The floorboards of the house were torn into the foundation. The only people to walk out of the house were Walter Seems and myself. I’m now resting against a pile of books. My stomach I notice is not scared. I was not cut and my intestines did not spill out into my hands. But I am in the depths, below ground where anything can happen.

Kandinsky in white face.

grotesque self-generating transmutation a non-moving stream of continual pressure the intricate equivalent permeates ill health administering vaginal inhalers pencilled fragmenting a psychologically induced gestural illness embroidered serial nature watery expulsion polyurethane wire undulating body permits unnatural cooling the bloodstream in collaboration with language develops an archeological subconscious cylindrical limbs intensified disregard translucent layers drowning on impulse collaged truncated interiorizing shardlike concentration

I woke in a room. It was not a room in the tunnels. I fixed my gaze and I saw sunlight. Sunlight! Where was I now. Then I heard a voice. A woman’s voice called out to me, “Chris, get up they’re coming!” I rose quickly, I was naked. I looked around the sparse room but could not find anything to wear. I looked out the window and saw several police cars rush into the driveway. Fuck, where the hell was I? I rushed through the door and saw the rest of the house. This was the house I grew up in. Not a thing had been changed. Standing against the door was the woman who had been in the tunnels. The woman who had stopped the other woman from beating me into submission. She was fully clothed and looked desperate to help me. I bolted through the back door, through the kitchen, and I was met by several officers. They beat me as hard and as fast as they could. When I began to lose consciousness they stopped. When I awoke I was clothed in the uniform of the State Corrections. I tried to rise to my feet in the brightly lit cell but could not. Then I heard a voice yell, “He’s awake. Tell the Captain.”

At first I didn’t hear what they were saying. Their words seemed like unfinished thoughts. One even leaned over me as he kept asking his questions. It was to no avail. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Even though I couldn’t hear them I knew what they wanted to know. How the hell could I have done the things I had done. But that was something they would never understand. It wasn’t me. After a while they got up and left the room. The stench of coffee and cigarettes seemed to get into my clothes. I felt dirty. I guess having that feeling meant I was getting better. Back to normal.

Anatomia Humani Corporis

Choreographing rape fantasies sustaining precision where improvisation stops just short of death collecting the limbs of their children Vietnamese beggars cross the field to the arsenale of hair which cannot bleed and cannot die

I woke up in a cell surrounded by concrete. The floor was cold. Condensation beaded up on the walls and I could hear footsteps coming towards me. Men were talking. Then a shadow bent across the floor. I looked up and a man with an expressionless face said, “There’s someone here to see you.” I knew who it was. I couldn’t figure out how Mr. Seems could make his way into the jail, but I knew it was him! I said, “I don’t want to see him! I know who it is and I don’t want to see him!” Then the man said, “Talk to him for just a moment and then we’ll have a talk since you feel like talking now.” He disappeared down the hall. Then the steps echoed again. Soon another shadow made its way toward me. I stood and gripped the back wall of the cell. It was Bots. Bots stood there for a moment then he smiled. He said, “They’ll be moving you tomorrow, we’ll talk then.” Then he was gone. I called out to him but he did not return. I turned and looked out the tiny window of the cell. Bots was soon outside the building. He slowly made his way down the road. It was beginning to get dark and a loud clap of thunder brought a slow cold rain. Then Bots stopped in his tracks, turned and looked back directly at me. That’s the last thing I remember. I woke up hours later on the floor again. It was cold.

Control burn.

How many inches will it require for you to take your body and place it in your own can you take the smell of your own body how many days will you be dead before you can take the steps out of your body and back into the filth your body has possessed

Hours passed, I sat there. Then when I was almost asleep a man stood over me suddenly. I could see he was shaking with rage. His words came slow but sure, “My brother was one of the agents you killed you motherfucker! The only thing that hurts me is that I can’t kill you but one time.” Little did he know I thought. I had already died several times. Then I noticed he was holding a gun in his right hand. He raised the pistol and recklessly aimed and shot. The bullet ripped through my chest. There it was again, the taste and smell of blood. Guards rushed down the alleyway and tackled the man as he fired the entire clip of his 9mm into the cell. They took their time coming into the cell to see if I was alive. I lost an enormous amount of blood they said but I would make it. In 1996 Missouri had abolished the death penalty so that disappointed quite a few, especially the doctors who operated on me. Even when I woke up in recovery I expected to see Walter Seems.

Slipping into a darkness the size of America.

first stomach burning a dry iced needle into the forehead unrestrained offering to enslave or kill where every birth intimates death when blood is monotonous fibre an older premise of a younger child concretions communicable flesh silence silence silence silence silence silence silence munition detail the burden strong intricate dis-equilibrium burn into the nerves fuck you and fuck death immobile sexual caresses refusal of consciousness the blame is rigorous and it achieves immersion torrential and intervening

Waking up from surgery I found the warden staring me eye to eye. He said just one word, “Why?” I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. I guessed he wanted to know why the guard had shot me and had I done anything to provoke him so I told him to fuck off. I said, “Leave me alone and let me just lay here.”
Then he told me, “I just want to know how a writer such as yourself could turn into a mass murderer.” Now hearing that I just had to laugh. I said, “I’m getting tired of having to tell people that I didn’t kill anyone. It was not me. Walter Seems put me through worse hell than you or anyone else has ever seen, so I don’t need to hear your bullshit! So get the hell away from me!”
The warden stormed off and the room was quiet for a while. The doctor soon came in and told me that the bullet had missed my heart, just barely. He also told me that I would recover for about two weeks there and later be taken into court for my first hearing. A hearing I thought, shit, couldn’t wait to see that. I was intrigued I had to admit to see the evidence. I wondered how far Mr. Seems had gone to ensure my conviction. But before I could think anything else the morphine took hold and I was fast asleep.

The flesh of the dead is broken open upon the living and the hair shaved and concealed inside the wrist. Flailing a machete, opening veins and cartilage, bruised and bleeding, I survived. The earth trembles, washing the blood away as it pours from the wound. Nature climbs the branch and disappears amidst its own genital restraints. Nature plies the oars and moves back upon the river to the underworld. There is no longing as empty as childhood

Puer aeternus, (seizures of the lotus)

Thrusting headlong into the fire, ducking into the water for breath, I see a wolf lodged beneath a stone. He tears at his own leg trying to sever it to free himself. The water turns a fiery red as I rise to the top for breath. Before me gnipahellir filled with hounds sprung at me from a giant cast of the Buddha. Clumps of hair grew up from the stone floor and were quickly caked in my steaming blood. When I no longer had a scrap of flesh on my body, the hounds dove beneath the water. In the distance of the cave, lit in half-light, I saw the Rajayatana tree. Sitting beside the tree a beautiful naked woman covering her body in pitch. I walked toward her and as I neared her, she set herself on fire. She burned and looked up at me passionately. She beckoned me to sit. As I sat down she said, “Smoke?” She raised up her hand and offered me a bowl of hashish. As she sat the bowl down she lit the leaves with her finger. The smoke filled my lungs. The more I breathed in the less I could breathe.

There’s nothing left to purge seeping sobriety screaming malignant into the thickening blackness where the current clots and speech enters the body anthropological sutures bleed infant neglect human heads drafted into murder aneurisms of sodomy embrace organs torn from the roots fermenting cyanide in Broca’s brain...a child screamed until he pissed his clothes a woman stooped to clean the mess and he wiped shit from his ass in her mouth and she began to wretch another child kicked her legs out from under the two children cut off her head and placed it between her knees...the body is erect and the limbs fall by the waist the heat washes the piss from a lovers mouth into the laughter of birth...a dead boy left in the sun the rats left his cock for the last a young girl watched as the aphids crawled from the eye socket she pried open his mouth with a metal pole and out crawled a spider coughing semen...hunger can be taken out on the body violence is erotic but nothing is permanent...the dead do not know exile

I awoke hanging over a deep crevice.

Internment necrophilia fetishizing quarantining sexual cruelty nausea corresponding a proscenium arch in the brain uncoupling psychiatry resurrecting pouring the heart’s intimations fleshly preserved intimate mothering anal hardships resolving birth erecting all capacities rekindling pregnancy pricking the flesh open exhausting psychotic measuring release of endorphins stretching gunshots quickening orgasm buried without the head impaled amputated stomach burst dried as smoke dissenting atrocity instantaneous grace_ sanatoria leprosaria raked cough vomiting slow death perforations asphyxiating a complicated absorption incendiary blood pigment resuscitation inhibiting tissue ingesting lactating irritations secretions of a brownish saliva a noose of low voltage precipitated with benedictions of anal Christ expulsion defile sexual presence scarred feeling himself incarcerated in a cathedral of foreskin where fingernails are imprisoned in the clitoral confinement of every murder weighted down by my breath insidious my hands taste your urine can be cataloged by your own salivary glands

I felt the ropes around my wrist tightening. My chest opened and a main artery unwound and began to strike at my body, sending blood pouring down into the blackness. Looking down I saw people crawling up the walls. They were the victims from the ovens and the tunnels. Their limbs are missing, their heads, their inner organs, everything you could imagine. As they crawled up they tried to reach out to me but could not. The more that climbed up out of the crevice, the more I began to slip. As their screams began to make my ear drums bleed I fell ..........

Premature separation of placenta and the decapitation of reptiles.

Turned to filth like meat left in the sun maggots bred opened living torn from the central panel a deathbed wrapped in barbed wire nightmarish and androgynous peasant movements cocytus wailing an inantimate thanatos a nine years exile a nine years war the river awakens headless figures encircle and drink the river of creation how soon the corpse does weaken

Falling until the sides of the walls began to tear at my already fleshless body. My screams would scream no more and I finally struck bottom. I was impaled upon a thorn of twelve feet by two. Then suddenly bodies began to strike me and push me farther down the thorn. The bodies of those torn apart by my hands were falling back into the hole in order to push me down farther into hell! One by one then in three or four at a time they hit me. My body broke apart and soon all of the pieces seaped slowly into a great wrought iron metal drain. As I poured into the next section, my ears heard nothing. There was no sound and no movement. What was this place?

Ein Sof

cruel deliberate exorbitant offenses piled to the point of death a man ran from the fields trampling the dead waiting to be buried urinated into the ovum miscarried cocks burst in a blast of boiling semen beaten until birth irritants chlorine blindfolds of pus congealed blood suppurated excruciating and unable to breathe restrained humiliated continuous lacerations teeth broken and shattered white noise incapacitating until the dead give up their reason for dying

All around I felt the walls of the room touching me. Condemned I lie in a bath of very cold saliva.
Then suddenly white light opens and I see that I am in pieces. The torso is split and my arms and legs are shredded. I close my eyes for a moment and try to cry. I hear footsteps. I open my eyes and see before me Walter Seems. He is dressed all in white. He leans down and looks me over slowly. There is no way I can even think of getting up and running away. No way I can turn my ears away from his words. I just lay still and wait for him to act. Mr. Seems sits down beside me soaking his clothes in my blood and excrement. For a moment he just sits there, seemingly soaking up the atmosphere and then he picks up a piece of my left leg and begins to gnaw on it with his bloodied teeth. He eats some then wipes his mouth on his sleeve. He looks over at me and says, “I have been making my through your mind, your consciousness makes for some interesting reading.” Then he looked at me with a smile, “Yea motherfucker, I know what you been thinking and everything you have been up to. I know that you wanted to kill your father and you let your mother die in the nursing home, you didn’t try and clear her airway when she choked. You got uneasy when they uncovered her body to look for bedsores and deep down you wanted them to find some. You used to piss in your hand and watch it fall down into the toilet bowl. You were fucked up long before you ever met me.”

Christ visits the inkwell and defines his sobriety.

the patriarch answered linear accelerations de vulgar eloquentia incinerate slicing open the buttocks to wash her insolent pubic hair with warm blood to satisfy and inflame the anal clitoris to envisage itself as flowering masturbating into the main artery the hollowness unrepentant a second spiritual death unpardonable sins irregular pathogens of linguistic decay

Mr. Seems stood up and walked away from me. When he returned he had a needle and a ball of twine. He sat down and began sewing me back together. Of course he did not attach the limbs where they were originally attached. My arms were where my legs used to be. My legs attached to the back of the head. My intestines strapped across my chest, my tongue coming out of my ass, and my cock dangling from my right eye. There were pieces left over which he ate.

Claustrophobia and burning leaves.

lips in a hole brushstrokes of feces darkening an angel’s wings stimuli floating away from the cortical regions the parietal lobe breaking itself over the dull edge of the blade inhibiting blood flow spiraling down into flammable ice

Lying prostrate over an open fire. My chest begins to thrust back and forth violently. My ass opens and sliding off my tongue, are four children whose head extend from their hands. They fall into the fire then roll out and against the cliff wall. They lie on the floor for hours until they begin to mature. One sits up and begins to read aloud from his body. The flesh of his body is one of the stretched human canvases I had used to write on. He told about a forty-three year old woman that had her genitalia removed and cooked. It was then served to each of her children who ate and shit out the remains. The collected parts were then processed and served to her husband with mead. While the boy read the others began to strengthen the fire by severing their own limbs and tossing them in. During this whole process I hadn’t noticed but Bots was patiently watching from across the room.

Slaves have insisted on death; having been made fertile by the land.

excavating the winged larvae opposing the chemicals pupae hatching porous bone parasitism editing the internal process sculpting the body with red ocher the school of schizophrenia scatological disclipine dramatically bound manuscripts of incineration intense sacrament isolated and angelic warming the purity of an excremental penitence dry and monstrous

the human tibia macerated in menstrual blood fermenting the liquid in ceramic vessels of purplish vomit extracting the contents concentrated on the tongue peeling dilation potent asphyxia incapacitating pathogenic disease branding newborn flesh and interrupting blood flow

On the bottom of the riverbed is a picture of an upside down American flag. There is also the sound of water running. Strangely enough the water in the river is not moving. I can’t move. The sound begins to get louder and louder, until I can no longer breathe. Then my eyes burst open, the water rushes out and splashes against the water in the river, sending it back down my throat. I have swallowed my eyes but they can still see. There are parasites in my body that can move about like humans. Tearing at my inner organs and reattaching them, I scream continuously.

In the desert of Juarez I find myself digging into the earth. Clawing with my hands I occasionally stop to look around cautiously. I dig and dig until I find a body. I raise the body out of the ground and find it is a prostitute I had slept with years before. Her skeleton curses me and falls back down into the hole. Looking down as I begin to enter after her a voice calls at me from just behind me.
It’s Mr. Seems. He says, “What the fuck are you doing? She’s not dead.” Then he added with a smile, “Oh, you didn’t know that did you? She’s been getting fucked up the ass by roaches and worms. She’s not gonna be interested in someone like you. This whole town is wet with bodies that you put there.” In the distance I heard the sound of a train. Mr. Seems said, “Come on, you got to catch a train. So get the hell up.”

We walked for three miles until we reached the tracks. The train stopped just long enough for me to board. My body was back to normal finally. The other travelers on the train were sitting in silence. I settled in for the trip. On the seat beside me was a copy of the collected works of the Indian poet Tagore. I read until the sky went black. Fire erupted in the train car, but no one moved. The air grew thin. Slowly the car began to tear itself to pieces. Huge strips of metal seemed to fall and burn into the blackness. Then the train stopped.

Jah

elaboration of the body (phallic infant libidinal discharge) nongendered hermaphroditic garish irritation reddened (attaching chains to the ribs, swallowing fracture, shoulder-blade hormone)
menstrual torrents testicle ferocity

predatory horrified bruised and receptive infuriated darkening asphalt bleeding for days at a time migration corrugated pregnancy drunken and benign initials in shards ghastly slow-moving denying the pale desert road killing the wounded and eating the dead inebriate birth haunted to offspring disembodied abstracted psychologically charged frustrated sexual frailties crucifying the starving recesses of a dark and trembling sobriety dismembered sewing a victim in the carcass of a dead animal diluting the organ as if to remove the skin itself preparatory a disclipine resembling placing a seismograph in the digestive cycle human heads arranged languorously flaring nostrils feathered hooves lacerating ink the minotaur’s horns tearing rhythmically at the skeleton of Guernica the transition of photographical images dying in the bloodstream the walls of the stomach like the walls of the artist’s studio must remain in paralysis

November 25, 1970

I woke up. Where was I this time? Seeping into consciousness, my first alert was loss of breath and pain. I inhaled deeply, and as the breath reached my lungs my eyes opened to shattering glass. There were hands around my neck and others still pulling down my pants and pulling at my cock.
Someone spit in my asshole and there were shouts and fierce growls. I was pulled back away from the window while my arms and legs were held at full extension. They began to jerk my body back and forth. I felt a cock in my ass, ramming hard. I tried to scream but could not. They took their turns fucking me and burning my eyelids with lit cigarettes. Long after I had passed out they were finally finished. I woke up in a pool of blood, semen and shit. A guard grabbed me by the throat and drug me up a flight of stairs. I woke up in the infirmary. This was prison.

Ejaculating the body

Streams of crimson anchored by the muscles anatomist-dissect blessing a thick wine branded to the depths half of the inscription contains the fibers removed from the mouth of the corpse that when left immobilized shrinks under the weight...self-excoriation reverse sexual polarity unerotic fellatio unbridled surveillance intensifies masturbation breast-feeding initiations of intrapsychic conflict beaten from sanctuary secrecy of blood taboos breast milk that materializes in asymmetrical positions in male-fluid domination in the milk-sap hamlet treacherous limbs that sprawl detachable wombs exist in male lactation...hysteric sexuality compulsion to kill potency mixoscopophiles presbytophiles necrophiliacs copraphagists zoophiles psychiatry of the unreleased instruction of the exhausted shed hereditary ars erotica hermeneutics of viral mastery pederast
gerontophile sado-masochist Christ masturbating headless child malthusian investing in the body breaking down the hallucination beating eating the wound that cannot heal stomach excess breathing in moribund places visceral plenum staring into indescribable phosphorescent stigmatic bleeding verbally debauched implements of dark and evaporated muscles mesh into bone bodies bloated into eloquence holding aloft severed heads blood pouring over the word death until its emptiness becomes impermanence

“If you gaze too long into the abyss, the abyss will gaze into you.” (Nietzsche)

Threw up in my mouth incarnate living death bearer of communion burrow into the ground actualizing the mandala sentient being darkness polarizes isolates...warm nipples roll over your lips you watch the sweat roll down her belly you see the hairs of her pussy eclipsing the swollen lips her fingers brush through your hair your eyes...mexican tar heroin shepherding aberrated necessity egg walls slow metal fibers abdominal chorus piled her breasts in a cock bed of severed pus warehouses of bone sensorium of fuck death worming debris of aborted semen pregnancy of swollen appendage...at times she cried during intercourse gutting her throat feeling unafraid an epileptic unable to breathe moving only mouth to mouth taut she opens her mind only at the level of dreams...writhing deep breathing as a child terrifying glimpses into burning the... skin nightmares of abortion obliterating memory through rape and concussion harnessing escape humiliation digestion his bodily defenses are enabled through pain the filter is pleasure there is no conscious of the real mother tightening the body incestuous manufacture...a child unheld will die a lover unstrapped will starve hate suppressed will produce...sex held unconsciously promiscuity the prospect of sex/exit wound split psychology to reach orgasm impulsivity cutting off parts of his mother’s body and inserting them into his own...clothes bury the dead levels always levels bisexuality concentrated overt deeply religious masculinity no longer lives abstractions untreatable degrees of pathology crying swallowing wrinkling cigarettes removing the tobacco pillars for arsonists acres for compression the emptiness fondle caress shrieking supersensitive to another level penniless the trembling nipples cut eaten shaving the imbalance sucking as the tongue re-opens the wound fresh air into a dead wound softening its mathematical what’s inside vomiting as speaking methedrine aphasia emptying the stomach back into the kitchen slow breathing having physicalized the exchange of urine having suppressed the concentration of language the cycle does not intervene but there is always blood to be fed

While in exile, exile.

I was moved into a cell of isolation. Safety I thought. But there were the screams, and the screams of prison can reach out and touch you. Some days they didn’t bring me any food. The crimes I had been charged with were too much I think for even the population to deal with. But, I no longer wanted to die. Being away from Mr. Seems gave me for the first time a chance to think and breathe. That was when the dreams came, and in isolation, the dreams were real.

- Chris Mansel

Chris Mansel

Thursday, April 21, 2005

The Dry Wake of Orchestrated Illuminated Rounds

Saturday, April 16, 2005

The Iraqi Book of Living and Dying

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

The Political Philosophy of a Vengeful Society

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

While In Exile: The Savage Tale of Walter Seems

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Papacy: The Chemical Wedding

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Passing

Saturday, April 02, 2005

From There Outward (for Philip Lamantia and Robert Creeley, liberated)

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