A cabinet/room of curiosities,
Kunstkammer--fringe stuffs.
Let's (said 17th century affluence) retire to a den of delicious: now-where-weren't-we.
A space of sea legs, a space to clutch a
ceiling for balance--amid the perverse liberties of imagination's selves.
A continental doubletake at reality,
magic objects from the greater world--
another world.
Bouncing off the walls, cluttered proof of the unknown--unsuccessfully watered
down by familiarity.
Objects, things that shouldn't be there--
as if they overstayed the second to be gone.
The haunts of the greediest awe, the
pacts of Faustian must-haves.
Stretched juxtapositions of
taxidermic parrots, speaking
prehistoric bones that turn into the weapons of witchdoctors.
Alchemical globes turning over Abraxas
to geographic purification periods--under
scrutinous van **** beards.
Tortoise shells emanating the wooden
knocks of a tribe's forest family.
Leatherbound books ornate as gemstones, seemingly lived-in by hermits.
A perfumer's castle of scent upon the
next cloud--a zephyr's afterimage.
Scents that were whole lives distilled of
continuum's essence.
Cabinets of curiosities, tried the
peculiarities of their cocked-brow sitters.
Quietly thinking them a peacock's dressing room compared to their changeability.
The cabinet's gestating stimulation conjured appetites fit for their creator.
These cabinets of curiosities were often
unsupressable aphrodisiacs, voluptuous
women would softly roundout sin.
Lick, **** & bite into fruits as their curves swole with feathers.
Where flesh was made & remade again,
lusting after itself in exitless release.
Those who solitarily sat in these rooms
by candlelight & glowed beyond its glow,
gained the graces of darkness.
A space where natural light aspected
exotic variety, a space where a waking
dream outdid itself.
To recoup & assess a fraction of the things
that exist in the smallest hours that region the earth.
These modest places to withdraw, wandered into what became museums.
We've always sorted these cabinets.
