From the foreword to the fuck-idol
juncture line by Ric Carfagna:
This work reflects the spectrum of our intimate desires, obsessions,
and the sometimes unspoken other side of our lives; hopefully
awakening the potential to make us whole and see ourselves
as an integral part of life, joyously entangled in all of
its intricately luminous facets.
From
fuck-idol juncture line
tectonic land spark
THE lineage (see the language mine) is revealing seventy room
folds earthquakes emanating of souls o boat goodness pack
madly running vacantly into the atmosphere understand me surrender
well to time locked in the all-surrounding female fire watch
me melt it's wish words tumbling in the makeshift hail borne
from the churning replay entering darknesses the images profound
of gyrating passed rock fingers over you after you came unzipped
the fuck-idol deep this cry of hips is my pretty home stark
thrusts pet quicker for butterfly-moth eyes staring rising
from the twinkling nibble privileges smiles seductive to restest
this substance in the palm of your hands om
tectonic land spark picture that immediately for a flip-top
milk-colored scrambled graffitti looking for her cum out echo
go sexxx back map need a mother dwell in peace time loves
to dwindle always shall eyes climax martian as an homage now
clouds vaguely strange we groan very cool with velvet blue
spew lanes earth is orchestral running out of the corridor
so beautiful beatifically that the butterfly collapses to
the first virtue
thighs given bread
INTO sexxx the curved heat breathes as divine hyenas breathing
fire of the not-spoken art behind closed doors shadows moan
as the cock unbeknownst craves o you of cosmos and night's
picture now moments of hope meet and visions shape gracious
oranges to my love ah see tomorrow smoke and spread a darting
shape of fire with the pillow so by you the orgasmic bodice
shall light a path ah ah forever play this ritual swaying
atmosphere with messages
hyperreality-touched undressed thrusts at the light sky hallucinations
ever of lips bathed in tokay hand creating plunging a silence
nearing always this is orchestral for mind picture wanting
she smiled charm of vessels to soul art send locked pictures
like pleas the silence filled to the hilt swarming thighs
given bread the dominoes of time placed atop the genitals
the attention she leaves the earth faster aroused
pictures from blur city
HAVE behold a river flame flickering of fingers discover there
the bay of the cock chair lips before hips overheard send
the sipped proclamation cum occurred night awaking did spread
of revelation the orchestral deciphering craggy for wet witness
that city throbbing words & ocean's verge of sweating
her
i stripped my ass open in the corridor bodies together in
art outta ah ah of this cry the mind's eye are eyes through
that jewel the juncture of the fire seduced the moving chair
candle's mind indeed collapsible moments edge her fault-line
over ear both mouths whisper flush thighs gather spirits protect
us passing through inclined reintroduction to the soul brain
gyrations of rather among blur city pictures pass soft between
expanded witnessing awoke perceiving star-hovering eyes perceive
of womb images for lilac directions the delectable turning
urge throng of red ticket dream uncovered fully quite hot
bio
Andrew Lundwall is a cofounder and managing editor of the
electronic literary journal, Poetic Inhalation: www.poeticinhalation.com.
He currently resides in the Washington, DC metro-area.
