Sunday, January 23, 2011

GOING DOWN ON MOSES


_____________________

IKE MCCASLIN

“and the fading
and diluted ghost
of old Carothers’
ruthlessness had
at last conquered
even starvation.”
—William Faulkner,
Go Down, Moses

Ike McCaslin said:
“It really blew me away
when I realized it.”

“That my father Buck—
and his twin brother were fags
Y’know, like faggots.”

He closed his eyes tight—
Leaning back in bed with his
Arm behind his neck.

He took a long toke—
Held it for a long time then
Exhaled it slowly.

Down between his legs—
I was, well, king of busy
Sucking bored Ike off.

“I had a hard time—
believing it was true
but then I had to.”

“The ledgers don’t lie—
it was pretty much all there
Buck and Buddy’s thing.”

The still Delta night—
Sickeningly sweet with the
Honeysuckle stench.
The magnolias—
Were blooming too with their faint
Sweet odor of death.

The Decadent South—
Was rotting nicely that night
Tainting Ike’s dark mood.

“At first it seemed like—
my life had suddenly died
reading those ledgers.”

“I still can’t know if—
my grandfather was as bad
as the ledgers say.”

I’d heard the story—
Miscegenal incest with
Thucydus’ young wife.

And then the daughter—
Getting her pregnant just like
His own father did.

Siring a Shadow—
A shadow family curse
Slavery’s karma.

Ike stretched out in bed—
All six feet of his taut height
McCaslin physique.

Ike held both my ears—
Thumbs sticking real deep into
My motionless head.

He got it all down—
Down my fucking faggot throat
Touching my toenails.

Later Ike told me—
“And I thought my grandfather
was an old pervert.”

I stood in front of—
The mirror dabbing my lips
My moustache was stained.

It was gonna be—
A long night I said to the
Cracked bedroom mirror.

When Ike gets this way—
All the family dirt comes
Oozing out the cracks.

“Do you think I’m queer?”
Ike asked me sipping some gin
Reclined there in bed.

I shrugged like I do—
“What difference does it make now?”
Puffing the hookah.

It was really just—
A plain old water pipe with
Many years usage.

“This old pipe’s gotta—
Lotta mileage on it, Ike.
Kinda just like me.”

Ike laughed & nodded—
“Yeah it was a real shock.
My dad being queer.”

“That’s when I gave up—
trying to bad-mouth old man
L.Q.C. McCaslin.”

“Uncle Buddy was—
the Bottom in their marriage
the cooking, cleaning.”

“But Buck, my father—
needed a new lover bad.
he bought Percival.”

“Tired of just incest—
he wanted mulatto dick
he was desperate.”

“Sometimes it happens”—
I said to Ike, just shrugging.
“Was Brownlee well-hung?”

“Oh Jesus Christ, yes,”
Ike said, closing his sad eyes.
“Hung like a race horse.”

“You can imagine”—
Ike said despairingly blue.
“My father was queer.”

“But also much worse”—
I love the next part of the
Long dirge of shame…

“Buck was a dinge queen—
and even worse he was a
Fuckin’ size queen too!!!”

That’s when the details—
Always got down & dirty.
The Negritude Noir.

Young Percival’s prick—
Twelve inches of mulatto
Shame and succulence.

Cuddle in his lap—
Like a new born dinge baby
Sucking his nipple.

His hard flat stomach—
Bent over slightly in bed
Proud & protective.

“If I had something—
as big & black as that one,
I’d be careful too.”

“Yeah, aint that for sure—
The lynch mobs would’ve loved to
Get their hands on it.”

“Yeah, and half the ladies—
in Yoknapatawpha County…
He had a nice one.”

“That’s why Buck bought him—
talk about a Black Beauty.
Ace of Spades pure black.”

“He kept Brownlee nude—
a kept man in dinge bondage
A slave to Buck’s desires.”

“All the other slaves—
freed from their old slavery
And free to depart.”

“Many chose to stay—
the only home they had known
after Dixie fell.”

“The old L.Q.C. mansion—
right outta Gone With the Wind
Slavery decaying.”

“Like Roman ruins—
Greek Revival old temples
Pealing white columns.”

“Rotting, dingy wrecks—
antebellum decadence
Negro loins unbound.”

“How much mulatto—
sperm & mandingo spluge
did Buck get from him?”

“22 Apr 1856 I’ll—
get it out of him” and
he did, every drop.”

AMADEUS UNCLE BUDDY

“Mink’s feelings with
their complex combinations
of hetero- and homo-
eroticism may well be
those of numerous men
in Faulkner.”
—Noel Polk, “The Artist
as Cuckold,” Children of
the Dark House.

“Our lives took substance—
as of shadowy beings
marriage I suppose.”

“Buck & I freed them—
even let them have Father’s
Big White Mansion.”

“But still Buck condones—
sexual injustice with
him owning a slave.”

“A sexual slave—
to satisfy his own lust
owning Percavil.”

“Father may be dead—
Dide and buried 27 June 1837
But surely we’re cursed.”

“Buck worships the slave—
he’s the real slave to love now
all Jefferson knows.”

“They’re always smirking—
behind my back there in town
cuckold & cold-cocked.”

“No man is really—
forever manumitted
Buck is now the slave.”

“Caught in the act of—
dinge queen miss fellatio
giving him blowjobs.”

“Every man has his—
ledger page written in the
words of slavery.”

“Word for word it’s the—
story shame to Thucydus
Shame to McCaslins.”

“Pen-stroke by pen-stroke—
white (gay) progenitors
immutably queered.”

Finished, unaltered—
Bored, now harmless years later
These decaying books.

Stinking, forgotten—
Lantern sputtering in the
Rank deadening air.

No more, no nothing—
Old Carothers legacy
To his Negro sons.

His shadow sons and—
Shadow daughters with their white
Half-uncles and aunts.

Queerly enough the—
Slave-trading dinge descendents
With their negro dicks.

A youth not 21—
Begotten and deserted
By a gone father.

Now ensconced in the—
State Penitentiary
For manslaughter etc.

Some seed just aint bad—
It be dangerous bad seed
A McCaslin curse.

His Negro mother—
Divining instinctively
The death of her son.

“G” stands for “G” down—
And that’s what Butch Beauchamp does
All the way to Hell.

Percival Brownlee

“darker impulses
toward incest and
homoeroticism that
he cannot face”
—Noel Polk, “The Artist
as Cuckold,” Children of
the Dark House.

Percavil Brownlee—
Kept Man bought by Buck
Naked around home.

Can’t read, write or plough—
Good for nothing gigolo
Proud of his big dick.

Won’t let nobody—
Even touch it except Buck,
Wears a kimono.

Kisses Percival—
Black man now Master
What would Father say?


No comments:

Post a Comment