Saturday, January 8, 2011

INTERVIEW WITH FAULKNER


INTERVIEW WITH FAULKNER

“born of necessity, out of a sense
of urgency, an irrepressible
inner compulsion, regardless
of the risks incurred. How
can we linger over books
we feel the author was not
compelled to write, the kind
of books that wound and stab
us, affect us like a disaster,
grieve us deeply, like
being banished into the
forests from everybody.”
—André Bleikasten,
“Faulkner in the Singular,”
Faulkner and Yoknapatawpha

Delta Text & Theory
Between delta text—
And theory, moving back &
Forth like a shuttle.

Testing, questioning—
The text & its many voices
The tense encounters.

The evolving self—
Between a writer & his
Singularity.

The book he lives thru—
Power to shatter clichés
Mississippi texts.

Totally Lost
Totally lost—
Back when I read Absalom
At 20 years old.

And ever since then—
I’ve been exquisitely lost
Again & again.

Like Marquez was—
Peter Handke & Borges
Labyrinthine cast.

I was lost inside—
Absalom, Absalom deep
And couldn’t get out.

Henry Sutpen
Dwarfed like Henry was—
Like Charles Bon not knowing
Who his father was.

Incestuous maze—
Exacerbated, provoked
Drowning in my guilt.

The forbidden love—
That heterosexuals can’t know
Even with sisters.

The don’t ask don’t tell—
Cloistered closet of shame
Cain & Able love.

Ole Miss
Henry at Old Miss—
Bon up from the Big Easy
Going down on him.

“So it’s the gayness—
Not the miscegenation"
That Sutpen hated.

How many fathers—
Rejecting their own sons &
Lesbian daughters?

During Viet Nam—
Not just the Civil War then
But any war-time.

Because Bon Said
“Because” as Bon says—
“I’m the faggot who’s gonna
Suck off your young son.”

Like Dwayne Jerome—
Whose Chicago dinge father
Will never be known.

Except by gay me—
Going down on my brother
His mulatto meat.

Married to the kid—
As surely as midnight cums
And Mandingo goes.

Dinge Queen
Rejected by love—
For being a chicken queen
And a dinge queen too.

That’s why my brother—
Shoots his brains out all the time
With his black Luger.

Like Henry & Bon—
At the Sutpen Plantation
Gate during the war.

Like young Able did—
East of Eden way back then
Sodom & Miss G.

Dinge Fellatio
I was Judith and—
Henry & Clytie as well
Dinge fellatio.

Dwayne was Charles—
Charles Bon the Beautiful
All black ten inches.

Pealing back foreskin—
His pink Narcissus dick-head
His inch-long dick-slit.

When he took a pee—
One stream into the commode
Other on the floor.

Id Sauvage
Such an animal—
A constant boner just like
Benjy Id sauvage.

Totally streaming—
Young ejac—consciousness
Boy-beast with 2 backs.

Constantly fucking—
His own obsessively dinge
Fucking fist of doom.

Driven by hormones—
From Adolescent Dante
To gay disco hell.

Bad Boy Retardo
Always present tense—
Addicted to the Moment
Bad Boy Retardo.

Rereading Faulkner—
All these years later still lost
But differently...

Absalom the Text—
Humid Louisiana nights
Sitting up reading.

Deep South decadence—
Biloxi boyfriend in bed
Dreadlocks, kinky pubes.

Losing Myself
Losing myself in—
His sexy Mississippi
Drawl syrupy-thick.

Black molasses sweet—
Runny as sugar-cane snot
Old Man River kid.

Pascagoula prick—
During spring break on the beach
The Ole Miss Motel.

Unspeakably mine—
Get-away gumbo gulped down
Gulf of Mexico.

Delta Bourbon Nights
Delta bourbon nights—
Getting it as much as he’d
Let me have each time.

Glutton for his groin—
Groaning for my lips some more
Saying he loved me.

But knowing the truth—
His Biloxi girlfriend back
Home waiting for him.

It didn’t last long—
But long enough to hurt bad
Saying with that drawl.

You Can't Have It
“You can’t have it, man—
Not anymore on weekends
I’m getting married.”

I dragged it out for—
As long as I could knowing
It could never last.

Like Gone With the Wind—
Crummy little fantasy
What would Scarlett say?

Probably nothing—
A Yoknapatawpha yawn
A bored Temple smirk.

Chat with Faulkner
“Fuckin’ Jesus christ—
Don’t pull another Truelove
Boner on me, kid.”

“That cow dumpin’ shit—
Down on me out in the field
Delta diarrhea!!!”

“Have the politeness—
Not to poke around too much
Like young Weasel Snopes?”

“Memphis bad enough—
Miss Reba’s whorehouse Temple
Drake’s carrying on.”

Temple Drake
“She aint proud no more—
Alabama Red fucked her
Reamed her out real good.”

“Popeye the pervert—
He made Sanctuary sell...
Pulp fiction saved me.”

“Hoity-toity Lit—
That Signet paperback book
Saved my fuckin’ ass.”

“The NYTimes can—
Go fuck a duck for sure
That’s GFAD...”

Royalty Checks
“That’s how I paid bills—
Royalty checks fit for Queens
Even Dukes do it!!!”

Young Sneaky-Eyes Snopes—
Suddenly shows up outta
The Delta darkness.

Weasel’s young cousin—
Lives there in the Old Frenchman’s
White-Trash Trailer Court.

Weasel’s nervous nose—
Twitching all the time like he’s
A Rat smelling you.

The Snopes Boyz
They bring over chicks—
To entertain Faulkner up
There in his bedroom.

Frederick Karl’s, well—
Close calling William Faulkner
A dirty old man.

Writing for that urge—
To get goodlooking women
Into bed with him.

While that’s going on—
Sneaky-Eyes Snopes gets drunk
Let’s me look at it.

Sneaky-Eyes Snopes
All the Snopes the same—
Smegma grows like mold on cheese
Green cheesy dickheads.

Queering Faulkner is—
Pretty cheesy I admit...
Gets him a Nobel tho...

Temple Drake comes and—
Goes while young cute Weasel Snopes
Be like in the know.

White trash Novelists—
Writing pulp fiction porno
Sanctuary sucks.

Biloxi Bashō
Biloxi Bashō—
This fag haiku travelogue
Down into Deep South.

Sounds despicable—
Right up my schmaltzy alley
Fudge Packer Poet...

Ka-plunk! goes the frog—
Into the bayou darkness
I feel the ripples.

Young naked Pierre—
Diving off the cabin dock
Going ka-plunk! too.


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