Seasons In The Claustrum (The Libidinal Spring)

Roots of civilization founded on incestuous rites
Two gods, phallicized monstrocity, maternal archetypes
The friction of the split between them, primal confusion
Intrusion masquerades as a mutual, oracular meeting
Intrusion of the object into the child, birth, fascist collusion
Of psyche-somas in the season of eternal weaning

Seasons in
The claustrum
Barrel through me

And they cull
Split
And defile
All self-certainty

Primal tongues
Twisting in
To futurity

Incestuous
Split foundations
Of all humanity

The welcoming flesh, welcome sanctification of the self
Blind intrusion of the object, split animal cells
I am your father — you are mine, we are both deified
We are split, with you intruding, intrapsychic infanticide

Intrusion masquerades as a mutual, oracular meeting
Intrusive fathers, self-sodomized, feigning deific feeling

Father where have you been?
All that’s left is your sin
Am I your child, you are my God?
From incestuous union we are plunged into longing

I have introjected you, my aggressor
And now, I am introjecting you
As my confessor
I was molested by your guilt
Penetrated by your omnipotent will

You have trained me to introject
Trained me to reproach, deny, neglect
We are forever mired in sin
Together in immanent longing

Our depths of joy in this saturation
In our polymorphously
Perverse constitution
The dissolution of our grief comes
In libidinal death
And the grace of mourning

In the solitude of the child
The father is immobile
And the child, inspired
To dream, to live in reverie
Of life giving forms
An ahistorical spring