Porn Clip 68

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I

Shared PC — downloaded folder —
Cutting through the bytes to where,
Measured, you unfold her:
Opens blurred clip, stored after free download:
Fussy camera — flickering light crackling — for all you remember

The Sri Lankan girl knows when she sees a member,
As dismembers it — she — from what the politicos, in the House
Would, proud, call themselves. In a porn-banned free market world
In the Age of the Internet — Women by all names, of all ages, from all towns,
In all positions and parameters operate cocks without crowns.

And you operate — you, who are free
For in this exchange I am you; you are more than me.
Through the unreal screen you stare at a blurred world real,
Which — against poor visibility — beckons to you to clinch the deal:
The energy of some bloated woman, on file, being deep-throated.

II

The clip is now four minutes and a half old:
Them being Lankan, the guarantee is less,
If not for the forum, thread, file and the poster’s word.
The clothes are a sign — but never mind —
Occasional dialogue’s muffled, identity blurred.

You, Wordsworthian, is now a part of the scene,
Though, these daffodils, fair — familiar seen –,
Is a place and a pace where, before, you’ve been:
You allow memory, in fluid, to permeate through sense
And subconsciously take note where your birthrights cleanse.

Note the incessant flow of traffic toots outside
The firm tight door and of curtains drawn
That, in the thick of what looks like day and sun,
The light flickers in as if the first rays of brownish dawn.
Which is best as a trade — Amateur Porn; or Prawn?

You note, as he holds her in by her folds, the
Fan clatters round, clatters on; mime a grim soundtrack:
The immersed, locked mind, now takes down notes
And as he — close up — removes her mouth, pulls back
An ugly specimen of god, for a moment — a long moment — you’re half sure that that

Is a cock — dripping like mucus — that was
Familiar than you knew: that you had known
For, that bobbing ugliness, in your memory is true.
Mind zooms on that objective presence on screen,
Trying to capture-recapture where the anatomy you’d seen.

III

This is Byron’s folder
And how can you ask? Yours is the more pathetic
“O’ daffodils!” existence. A walk with dear Mary,
Sandwiches and a flask.

It flashes, the suddenly withdrawn
Agitating dripper, dark and rude
In its chilling blossom upon your solitude.
Where is it that that sight I had previously sawn?

Is it in clips preceding this? Go back, click back
File-folder in reverse. Is the clip one before
Still his? Still hers? It is not you, not yours — to be sure:
The mind tics, in memory as to whom; and whose.

2012-07-04

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One thought on “Porn Clip 68

    Janitha Rukmal (@janitharuki) said:
    July 4, 2012 at 4:46 pm

    This is just epic!

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