Dark Uttering

it’s been forever
since I don’t give a shit
since I gave a fuck
a perineal in and out
it’s been forever
since the shame coils close to
the shadow of my sacral pump
the fear to the back of my throat
the anger to the lining of my stomach
as if I was fed the intrusion, the patriarchy
through my digestive tract
my reproductive organs

when the pelvis is up skull down
primeval dark wisdom pours to my knowing brain for a moment I am
my thigh
ecstatic and high
i know why I am doing this
spreading beyond good and bad
up and down
right and wrong
everything is in relation now

if we were to discuss the art and its purpose right now
what would my orifices be uttering?
invited into the museum
we are so glad to have you perform please don’t touch or move
anything

quiet rush of blood                                                     

dizzy inner dialogue of sharp realizations pores of my skin looking
at them
them looking at me
mutuality is in the eye
the holes
the feeling thinking being
all fakings must have a place within

the guard, known as Wise
is making sure nobody moves or touches me keeping the visitors safe
from themselves

don’t worry, I got you
what’s his experience here
what is he thinking?

text by Melanie Maar

image by Eduardo Pateo