invective doggerel & mrs. translations

This section of the reading seemed very much to polarize people.

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__________________, who generally worships my writing, was so offended by the Herbeck rewrites (I guess) that he had to leave the room.  Later on the phone he told me he hated those poems and thought they were “beneath me.”
________________said that those poems were totally “unmediated” and self-indulgent and that “we didn’t want to hear about you; we wanted to hear about the world.”*  I told him that was just dogma.  Later I also thought that the poems were highly mediated**, but OK.
________________said he thinks performing those poems “weakens” me (I wondered later if he might be projecting, if identifying with the vulnerability-&-anger-born-of-betrayal somehow weakened him, the listener?). I told him I disagreed, but also that I didn’t really need to perform them anymore; I just needed to do them in that space, and at this moment. In a way, if I were my husband, I might be flattered by these works, instead of enraged by them.  Their extremity bespeaks the extremity of the love and the trauma of losing it.
Every non-poet I talked to (especially the musicians and composers who had come to hear Bruce) loved it, the whole thing, from soup to nuts.
________________loved it, said I was wild and mean and great.
And the biggest surprise was: ________________loved it.   He told me he thought that was the best reading he’d ever seen me do.  And lots of other nice things.
Later, ________________, who told me she had expected to hate these poems, said she actually found them very entertaining.
None of the _____________________ had one word to say to me about it, so I guess they must have hated it?
This is all perfectly all right with me.  I’m at a place in my artistic development where I find all sorts of responses to be interesting.  I find it especially interesting that the responses are so polarized.  That means to me that what I am doing is interesting, if not exactly “right.”
* ain’t I the world, too?
** re: “mediated”…Yesterday I watched a DVD of the T.A.M.I. show again and was marveling at the ultra-human phenomenon that was James Brown.  Was he mediated? I mean, I think these poems are quite mediated, as I said, but why is mediated necessarily a value?
An observation: there seems to be a relationship between the extent of a man’s paternalism and his inability to tolerate a woman’s rage.  I say this with genuine love for those men who have criticized me and acknowledge that I have heard and receive their critiques, although I may not agree with them.  I also think it’s worthwhile to note that I would never give my unsolicited opinion to these men about their works, at least not in any highly unmediated way, and I believe that reflects on power imbalances that reach back for millennia, and to which in essential ways my entire oeuvre reacts. 
Also please see note above about weakness-in-identification.

Robot Pillow

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I’m all for robot pillows. 
I also love inappropriately large doggies,
and other animals, for that matter, except for men,
around whom I’ll dance, at a safe distance
from my own nascent phallophobia, the woolly chain
of dread that coils around their imagined rubberinesses.
Everything I do’s a secret anthem, wrestling naked
on the floor with my beautiful clone. She serves
guacamole out of his butt-dimple, then stars in
a fetish video about rebuilding the Aryan nation
with a man wearing a bonnet and a diaper, fanny
like a hippo’s yawn and thoughts like semi-deflated
beach balls. I love women shrieking in orgasm,
hot naked doggie clothes, cats on leashes, Arapaima,
your bathroom décor, musical theater, and white
people precisely because they make me uncomfortable.
Anyone who knows me knows that I suffer
from vasovagal syncope, swooning at the slightest
mention of modern families, Combat Barbies,
robot pillows, Germans, etc.  Recently, while
visiting the aquarium, I became aware of the existence
of a very large fish:  the Arapaimia.  This fish
is inappropriately large. Disabled children fish are
human beings. They’re not some robot fish trinket you
saunter into town to buy on your day off. Cats in the
same way are like porn collections, like emotional support
robots in a fetish video starring Octomom and her
fourteen starving human larvae.  Why do people
think this sort of thing even funny?  Gary was funny,
until he wasn’t. Scarves should also be just the right
length so that it doesnít become a hazard.
Seeking braless teen animal parody,
burst parody kimigayo, and all the things I forgot
I wanted for their imperfection: smelly as
hamburgers, bad-ass as ice cream, pure as
fruit snacks for grownups in a stadium full
of crazed Muslims with cut-off vaginas.
A diaper is for sale on the internet.  George
and Laura Bush are getting their freaks on.
She is a plastic pig she looks like she’s melting.
Just fuck off you useless hard faced attention
hungry slapper, haunting barf’s flower motion poster.
If this thing crawled into bed with me,
it would cure my loneliness but probably
not with a sense of what you’d call relief.
Urinary tract affection –Mutt – urinary
tract affectation.  Mouth tasting of humbugs.
You don’t need to dance here, dance with what
you’ve got, wide-lipped hare.  Taking up time
selling psycho-candy on the train and inventing
words isn’t fair, Jesus bathroom décor!
Arapaima makes me uncomfortable.  Not
comfortable around white people? I feel
uncomfortable around white people? I’m
uncomfortable around white people? Why
do i feel uncomfortable around people? Im
not comfortable around white folks? Feel
uncomfortable around people? Courage
the Cowardly Dog.  Inappropriately large
autarkic amorph object. I feel lonely and
uncomfortable starting people in the eye?
Feel uncomfortable around? Why do i feel
uncomfortable around white people?
Uncomfortable around only white people?
Crawling sweetness. ^^ YAY I CAN POOP
irrational? I’m all for emotional support robots,
especially soft and fluffy ones that look like
baby seals.


33 days until official menopause!
35 days until my seventh wedding anniversary! Ha!

Straw Men

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The maintenance men make me uncomfortable and are sometimes a disturbance.
I’ve had some Asian men make me uncomfortable with their familiarity. I can’t tell if they are being professional or close to crossing the line.
Camp men make me uncomfortable. I hate myself. I don’t mind camp men, I just wouldn’t want to sleep with one. I wish I was straight.
i never put milk in my cereal · mythological creatures; bald men make me uncomfortable. Hair is gross. Girls should only have hair on their head
Men who were socialized as men make me uncomfortable, but men who were socialized as women don’t.
Creepy Awkward Old Men make me uncomfortable
Not all older men make me uncomfortable (we’re talking 40s on up), but there are some strangers that give me a bad feeling.
Men make me uncomfortable and there are only a few I can have conversations with without stammering.
Kilted men make me uncomfortable, especially when it is windy.
I would run like hell because drunken men make me uncomfortable and he has confirmed that he has no self-control while intoxicated
And as a white, male, liberal Englishman, blatant straw men make me uncomfortable.
Something about Saudi men make me uncomfortable
Foreign men make me uncomfortable. Especially the French.
White pants ON MEN make me uncomfortable, I don’t know what it is, it’s too much. I don’t like it, I just don’t!
Socially awkward men make me uncomfortable when they just look at me.
It turns out sensitive men make me uncomfortable. I mean, crying after sex? Really?