Perineal Visitor (Poem)

Dark utterance.
It’s been forever
since I don’t give a shit since I gave a fuck
a perineal in and out

It’s been forever
since the shame coils close to
the shadow of my sacral pump
the fear to the back of my throat
the anger to the lining of my stomach

as if I was fed the intrusion, the patriarchy
through my digestive tract
my reproductive organs

When the pelvis is up skull down
primeval dark wisdom pours to my knowing brain
for a moment I am my thigh
ecstatic and high
I know why I am doing this
spreading beyond good and bad
up and down
right and wrong
everything is in relation now

If we were to discuss the art and its purpose right now
what would my orifices be uttering?

invited into the museum
we are so glad to have you perform
please don’t touch or move anything

Quiet rush of blood,
dizzy inner dialogue of sharp realizations
pores of my skin looking at them
them looking at me

mutuality is in the eye
the holes
the feeling thinking being
all fakings must have a place within

the guard, known as Wise,
is making sure nobody moves or touches me
keeping the visitors safe from themselves
don’t worry, I got you

whats his experience here
what is he thinking?