Monday, August 13, 2012

A Poem by Peter Marra

local police records of a criminal

unusual remarkable winner of beauty contests

a thing

antiques in memory screaming
past loves weeping

the style spectators of novels
and striptease artists. the watcher travels alone
works in solitude.
dancing schemata dictates what they perform.
in front of 13 spectators sinning continuously
watching the mask of rage.
mixture of fiction dancing way deep into the dark
of a day-glo wooded area
that’s where they found the corpses.
she was boasting tattoos depicting
times square smut dreams

bump & grind bump & grind
she dictates a story
her elders’ bodies sleep beneath cool dirt
eyes wide open shallow covering it’s
a crime reporter’s wet dream
as she rests with the moist machines

undressed. the video monitors suck the life out.
dance the dance out.
the dj impaled but spinning lps spastically
shoot to kill
shoot to kill.
kill to live
buzzing pussy
“I heard steel hoofs”
her fingers – she enjoys the taste of gunpowder residue
the forensic evidence that she’s so proud of
she told them all about it and

slowly laughed in that crackly voice
that makes her so endearing. her wet smile -
the perfect skin for the sublime reign of terror

“reflections, reflections”
“my face twisted in a
reflecting crimson desire”
a crowd watches in the seedy motel the place she loves
antiques in memory screaming
past loves weeping
again, no sun up there
again a new sky fresh birth
look in the bar mirror curved neon purple
skin color eyes
watched wet lips

the train will be leaving soon
another town another marker

“a real gone bitch baby.
slinky trippin’ it’s a gravesite down.”

she heard about the door while watching the movie
at variety photoplays
it was a long time ago campy tonguing
pain stab wounds in
simply added
in the porn house of sublime renderings

harness around herself.
as her mouths spit dreams
she walked away and she kept going
until she was alone on the horizon
and the beat grew steady
and the beat grew steady
a rhythm queen lost

Originally from Gravesend Brooklyn, Peter Marra lived in the East Village, New York from 1979 to 1993 at the height of the punk – no wave music – art rebellion.Peter has had a lifelong fascination with Surrealism, Dadaism, and Symbolism, some of his favorite writers being Paul Eluard, Arthur Rimbaud, Tristan Tzara, Edgar Allan Poe, and Henry Miller. His favorite artists are Salvador Dali, Felicien Rops, Dante Rossetti and Amedeo Modigliani. Peter also cites Roger Corman and Russ Meyer as influences. He has had approximately 100 poems published either in print or online. His published work may be viewed at

1 comment:

  1. Another tactile and moving piece. This one could go on for me, You've brought the reader along on the desperate and deadened journey of youth's pain and survival choices. Hard to say 'wonderful' to saddened souls so I say Bravo!!! to you.