may i feel said he

December 5, 2015

Leonid Afremov

may i feel said he
(i’ll squeal said she
just once said he)
it’s fun said she

(may i touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she

(let’s go said he
not too far said she
what’s too far said he
where you are said she)

may i stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she

may i move said he
is it love said she)
if you’re willing said he
(but you’re killing said she

but it’s life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she

(tiptop said he
don’t stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she

(cccome?said he
ummm said she)
you’re divine!said he
(you are Mine said she)

e.e. cummings

handonheart

Here in the heart of the heart, love is a burden.
Here in the heart of the heart, love is a burden.
It says what it has come to say, and forgets to leave.
It says what it has come to say, and forgets to leave.
The heart in love says it has a burden of is.
Come here and leave to the heart what it forgets to say.

Love is a wire around my wrist.
Love is a wire around my wrist.
I feed the wolf my hands and my mouth.
I feed the wolf my hands and my mouth.
My wire hands love the wolf I feed.
My mouth is a wrist around my and.

When my passion leaves, there is only the mountain.
When my passion leaves, there is only the mountain.
I wake each morning with its melt on my tongue.
I wake each morning with its melt on my tongue.
Each morning I passion the leaves with my tongue.
Mountain wake my only when on its there is melt.

The burden of passion is a wire each forgets.
I leave love to what it has to feed on.
My heart is a mouth, and my heart is the wolf.
When the leaves say come, my hands mountain the morning.
With only my tongue says my wrist.
Love in and around its it. Wake there. I melt here.

Mary DeBow

her favourite indulgence

December 5, 2015

man

Her hand wandered under his shirt, feeling his rapid breath expand his ribs. She hesitated for a second—wondering what the chances were that either of her parents would come home early—then lifted his shirt with both hands, guiding it up his arms and over his head. It was her favourite indulgence; holding herself against his bare chest.”

Aprilynne Pike
Spells

Hey Joe…

December 5, 2015

One of Joe Orton's blurbs substituted on a local library copy of a Dorothy L Sayers mystery

One of Joe Orton’s blurbs substituted on a local library copy of a Dorothy L Sayers mystery

orton2

 

 

“I’d the upbringing a nun would envy and that’s the truth. Until I was fifteen I was more familiar with Africa than my own body.”

Joe Orton
Entertaining Mr Sloane

Ah, young Sloane, that a broken nosed Adonis, a leather boy with the head of “Bubbles” and the heart of a psychopath. He comes to lodge with “refayned” sleazy Kathy, who gets him to her bed. Her homosexual brother “rescues” the lout but not before he has kicked to death Kath’s “Dad-dah,” a decrepit old-age pensioner who had rumbled the delinquent’s earlier crime…

“Sir – In finding so much to praise in Entertaining Mr Sloane, which seems to be nothing more than a highly sensationalised, lurid, crude and over-dramatised picture of life at its lowest, surely your dramatic critic has taken leave of his senses. The effect this nauseating work had on me was to make me want to fill my lungs with some fresh, wholesome Leicester Square air. A distinguished critic, if I quote him correctly, felt the sensation of snakes swarming around his ankles while watching it.”

This letter signed Peter Pinnell, was printed in the letters section of the Daily Telegraph in 1968. Orton wrote the letter himself. He had earlier won the London Critics’ Variety Award for Best Play of 1964 for Entertaining Mr Sloane!

Sir — As a playgoer of forty years standing, may I say that I heartily agree with Peter Pinnell in his condemnation of ‘Entertaining Mr Sloane’.

I myself was nauseated by this endless parade of mental and physical perversion. And to be told that such a disgusting piece of filth now passes for humour!

Today’s young playwrights take it upon themselves to flaunt their contempt for ordinary decent people. I hope that the ordinary decent people of this country will shortly strike back!
Yours truly,
Edna Welthorpe (Mrs)

Yes, Orton again, the letter published in the Telegraph during 1968.

And Orton had a deep affection for Edna Weithorpe (Mrs), and used her to write many letters of complaint –

Flat 4,
25, Noel Road,
London, N.1

30th April 1965.

Dear Sir,

I recently purchased a tin of Morton’s blackcurrant pie filling. It was delicious. Choc-full of rich fruit. Then, wishing to try another variety, I came upon Smedley’s raspberry pie filling. And I tried that. And really! How can you call such stuff pie filling? There wasn’t a raspberry in it. I was very disappointed after trying Morton’s blackcurrant.

Please try to do better in future. And what on earth is `EDIBLE STARCH’ and ‘LOCUST BEAN GUM’? If that is what you put into your pie fillings I’m not surprised at the result.

I shan’t try any more of your pie fillings until the fruit content is considerably higher. My stomach really turned at what I saw when I opened the tin.

Yours sincerely,

Edna Weithorpe (Mrs)

His sense of humour was indeed wicked!

Joe Orton in Tangier, noted this exchange in his 1967 diary:

‘You like to be fucked or fuck?’ he said. ‘I like to fuck, wherever possible,’ I said. He leaned across and said in a confidential tone: ‘I take it.’ ‘Do you?’ I said. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘up to the last hair.’ ‘You speak very good English,’ I said.

Earlier, before his success, Orton and his lover were sentenced to six months in prison for defacing library books (example covers above), the sentence so harsh because, Joe claimed, they were “queers”…

In 21st-century Britain the art of rebellion has been so thoroughly institutionalised that no real dissident art is possible. Instead we have a constellation of cultural stars who shock without shocking anyone, mock authority that gave up the ghost long ago, and delights a generation of avant-garde grandparents. We have gone from Joe Orton to Grayson Perry.

Thus does British culture sink into mediocrity! (weighed down, perhaps, by a Sky Television logo)…

“Geraldine: We must tell the truth!
Prentice: That’s a thoroughly defeatist attitude.”

Joe Orton
What the Butler Saw

Saturday Morning Shenanigans

December 5, 2015

Saturdaywine-beer-waterSundaymorningglow

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