ANOTHER ATROCITY

 

"Jackie Kennedy, your eyelids deflagrate." ‘You need a drink. For the next hour he waited by the lake shore. Catherine Austin moved through the exhibits towards the dark-skinned young man in the black coat. Yet these designs were more than enormous replicas. Axillary, buccal, navel, aural and orbital modes produced proximal erections. The conceptual role of Reagan.

The Concentration City. He handed the girl ajar of ointment, happy to be present at a vernissage no larger than the skin area of a typist. Many factors confirmed this faulty union of time and space — the dislocated perspectives of the apartment, his isolation from his own and his wife’s body (he moved restlessly from one room to the next, as if unable to contain the volumes of his limbs and thorax), the serial deaths of Ralph Nader on the advertisement billboards that lined the airport approaches. The widowed bride of Vesuvius. Where were her own wound areas? Dr Nathan pointed through the windshield with his cigarette. Somewhere in the margins of his mind a helicopter circled, vector in a scenario of violence and desire.

The Abandoned Motorcade. Travers stared at the flame-like scars on his knuckles, residues of an appalling act of violence. Deliberately he leaned against the car as he walked by, staring at her and almost touching her elbow. He glanced up at her, face hidden by the peak of his Air Force cap. The film was also found to have a marked erotic content. Unable to move, he lay on his back, feeling the sharp corner of the novel cut into his ribs. The quickening geometry of her body, its terraces of pain and sexuality, became a source of intense excitement.