Based on a poem by Harry Crosby
Video/Noise by Lamashtu
Shot at Frioul archipelago, summer 2009
Edited in 2010
What was the moment of coition like?
come Zariba let down your gates
turn turtle all you captives of the flesh
square suns
walled in by darkness from the crypt
young bodies stripped to make a mock of time
toy beauty dipped in feral wine
bones buried in the Wood
bones buried in the gold of Sun
bones buried in the very gates of War
(great searching of the gates)
impatient earthquake
shuffles all the pack
redeals the reds the golds the blacks
birdlike and blackened
secret as a door
sharp knives to stallion
through a forest floor
(great searching of the gates)
floodgates
the day is done
and I can feel the pebbles
in my hand
crumble and crumble
to a beach of sand
whereon you walk
(yet do they prance in
circumcision round the pole
stride over mountain Tops
gurgle the rising Tide)
and if a slender boat
should anchor near the Sun
would mad queens madly run
(girdles undone)
or would they come
black scaffolds to the Sun ?