Literary Orphans

Atrocities Of The Western World
by Peter Marra

she lay in bed

dreaming down

looking up

ceiling grin, nightmare rolling

her eyes rolled back in

sockets covered by lids glistening

with black eye shadow

mascara fluttering while

 

heard on

the fire escape

behind the glass

slow moan rising

whispering acts of humiliation after death

she cringed

 

that day burns

that night soothes

you shall see wonders

they are all beautiful

they said, it was said

scraping behind the curtains behind

windows soft

 

whispers we have you now

strained as she listens to them

do it now as we know

a walk down the hall

a walk down the hall

 

clad in furs / clad in lace

naked underneath / clad in plasma

 

(a scream for the bare blue & dead)

 

Splashing sounds

in the back room of an auditorium

expect great pain

an opening

 

really want to

really want to

really want to

 

the thin material accuses

wearing a passion rose

white hands between knees

shaking

quaking

trembling

on a bed, thought of dreams

a pussy, her mouth, her  fingers ached

she exclaimed: “Oh!

 

Spreading”

 

and bending started

spittle appeared and disappeared

She arched their bodies, half-glance

got in got down to it

flesh through and through with pleasure

beasts after silence rest in a meadow

damp with redness and black sighs

roll over twice and stare at each other’s eyes

unable to tear away split

 

guilty amorous

a pussy – a full-length mirror

not responding to stroking

her legs are true.

 

(a burlesque for the cooked and eaten)

 

girl in a chair

 

a figure seated.

 

it’s clothed in objects that were

purchased somewhere on the street

a long long time ago

maybe near the bowery

she paid for it and

it became a replica of her

sentiments

a memory to resemble theatrical scenes of

electrocution wedding rings

 

puppets or pictures through the holes.

a wall between them rises,

the executioner had pawned the peep-booths,

where they had hidden

themselves away for 7 days

9 years being lonely and

 

this is how she cured it

 

commoners crave the peep shows

inject it deeply as their eyes roll back seeing

a maiden on display – turned on

 

Lie in bed and wait for the darkness womb

That once comforted

It’s gone it’s gone

Stress fire pain

 

city of sin

a drab sky beckons

those walking underneath

 

the city bleeds eternal dreams

walking forward walking away

 

once up close as they tasted an approach

to stare at splendid accidents while

teachers bled standing up

 

giving instructions for the deaf and dumb

those vital organs were removed

a face stares blankly

as the autos speed by

 

a buzz infernal

a bland desire

 

smother the ideas that once grew

felt it openly then

 

whispered

of dreams

of chaotic ebony curls on fire

 

opened under fingers of an evolutionary promise

to enter into limaperu and

drive down roads of blood

while breathing thin air

 

superstars walk into glass slashed

in flames – it never goes out

 

a girl and her .44 a slow walk towards nighttime redemption

avenging the negatives of

luminous creature she once called her own

the city sleeps fitfully as she

traverses the lanes traverses

the ranges of sight

 

dreams of peru stolen from her

dreams of placid time eradicated from her memory

she bites her tongue and tastes the blood

 

it’s time to go

but she has no destination

it’s time to leave

but she’ll stay and shoot

relishing the thrust

of the pistol and

the sound of the bullet

O Typekey Divider

Peep-O-RamaOriginally from Gravesend Brooklyn, Peter Marra lived in the East Village, New York from 1979 to 1993 during the punk / no wave / art and music rebellion. He has had a lifelong fascination with Surrealism, Dadaism, and Symbolism.

His earliest recollection of the writing process is, as a 1st grader, creating a children’s book with illustrations. The only memory he has of this project is a page that contained a crayon drawing of an airplane, caught in a storm. The caption read: “The people are on a plane. It is going to crash. They are very scared.” His parents were always disturbed by that first book.

A Dadaist and a Surrealist, Peter’s writing explores alienation, addiction, love, lust, the havoc that secrets can wreak, and obsessions, often recounted in an oneiric filmic haze with a taste of the grindhouse. He has had over 200 poems published in print or online.

His chapbook Sins of the Go-Go Girls was published in April 2013 by Why Vandalism? Press. Two of his short stories are in the anthologies Have a NYC and Have a NYC2 published by Three Rooms press.His short story Expert Collisions, recounting his experiences on 9/11,was published in Evergreen Review in September 2013 and will also appear in From Somewhere to Nowhere: The End of the American Dream, which will be coming out in 2014 from Unbearable Books/Autonomedia.

peep-o-rama, a collection of poems, was published by Hammer and Anvil Press in November 2013 and is available for Amazon Kindle. It may be purchased at: AMAZON.COM

 His published work may be viewed at www.angelferox.com.

Peter Marra

 

O Typekey Divider

–Art by Bostjan Tacol