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Spirit Limbs
Con/Jur/d, 4/24/2021
I don’t know who
suggested it, the three
of us huddled, in the front
seat of Michael’s car, we always
rode this way, back when it was
legal, to put as many people, as possible,
crushed into, what the auto-space
would/could/allow
configure to, “Spirit Limbs” someone said,
and indeed, the awareness coming from
going numb was in play, “The perfect band
name for a New Age band, maybe something
Goth like Cocteau Twins.” Although, not until
later in the decade, experience the first time
nor did we know the term “Goth,” still called
them Decadents, referring to Huysmans’
“Against Nature” as the codex for the
1980s, something still true, important
for cultural anthropologists, curious
how “end of history,” eschatologies,
(a double negative does not a utopia
make) are predicated on the rise of
Cronenberg’s embodied vision.
Not to say, driving in this condition,
bodies intertwined, both in anatomy
and neurochemically, with exogenous
and endogenous allies
wrapping/hugging/penetrating/binding
us together in a gestalt,
a whole which is greater than
the sum of the parts, although
explaining it demonstrates
how amputated we have
become, where once,
by simply reaching out a hand,
a juggling pin appeared, no thought
of cause and effect, now we find,
Digital Natives, more likely
to understand cultural
references we took
for granted, as part
of our geostrategic birthright.
A phantom organic pang
of pleasure and pain,
something we lost,
“Look in the glove box?”
“Can’t” Laughing,
we spill,
out/down/around
Today’s a day to throw up my hands and scream y’all. Or as Saint Pee Wee said “Scream real Loud!”
Get out and enjoy it,
Con/Jur/d, 4/24/2021