She's a -
Mutant, whose body sinks, sinks, sinks -
Triple-cervixed.
Sinks to the sea, where sex is. Eggsplashed, salmon spume.
Nostalgia. For the bifurcate river paths.
Twins who practiced
Alchemy of instruments to perfect the manmade man;
& the Rebus rent. & the terrific terror
Of separation, prevent.
She's a -
Mutant, whose body's all wrong, all wrong, all wrong.
Woman's all wrong for a boy halved by his own
Device. Bev & Eli, who drug up,
Drug down.
Reach equilibrium, of insects, of salmon,
Of the Rebis rent. Onanist-
Agonist. Percodan on Saturday,
Ice cream on Sunday.
The outer that had been
The inner: a dead
Ringer. In a sea
Of (in)fertility.
After slicing his brother's venter with silver tools for mutants, Bev goes out to reacquaint himself with the outside world of those who don't live underwater. He goes to a telephone tube and dials out to the mutant woman that had enslaved him to an idea of love, a principle which had disfigured itself in coitus from an imperfect understanding of the insides of ladies. He hears her voice as if from the black depth of an ocean gazing up at the fractured blades of sunlight. (Shore's score piles in backdrifts, recedes, fades.) Bev can't do it, can't do it. It's all wrong cause he's dead. She's just a trifurcate, not an actress, not Claire Niveau. He goes back into the ruined apartment like the cadaver he is. Gives himself over to science. His sole contribution: the open entrails of his brother, test study for a prototype of a gynecological instrument for mutant women, the Mantle Retractor #69.
...
Cf. http://www.dvdverdict.com/reviews/deadringers.php
No comments:
Post a Comment