DA DENCKLA
snarf the moment
mirror covered corner-to-corner with cocaine
deftly razor-sculpted in a spiderweb shape
designed so each nose could climb a short thread
without disturbing the integrity of the patterned whole
it was halloween, I think, the arachnid
recurrently arising as a symbol of inhuman horror
an eight-legged architect, hairy but untouchable, uncute
who captures, poisons and mummifies hammocked guests
"we're snowed in," squealed a femme capped with cat ears
one of six black cats who circle one another and dart glances
warily wondering which feline would be hottest in heat
forged from fishnet, body sheath, bondage leather, theme and variation
no one really disguised themselves tonite
as slow things, things that barely move, that linger
like sloths, snails, barnacles, or turtles, no
tonite, it's all hunted and hunters, killers and game
the party pace picks up — fueled with artificial fire
fuming at full tilt — all flirt and fizzle and twerk
at midnite, hinges were unbolted from the doors
to pave wide the way for broad-shouldered devils
dance, all those gathered here dance together in one humid ball
to summon spirits, to craft a tale, to carve out a moment
to live something somehow new, wild and storied—
even if they'd been at the very same party last year
hollering hard against the human din and undying silence
holding red cups high— plastic cheering plastic — crinkling
a real crackling riving the raving night air — lunatic fear
to forget oneself but not be forgotten— unsung demimonde diva fossil
evernew bloodflow of eternal youth feeds our everhungry marketbeasts
we feast on our own flesh in mad-eyed maenad confusion, photo chop cheek or cleavage
selfize selfies, gobbling eyes, wondering how much of our bodies can be consumed
into millions of thumbnail portraits littering glittering the electric sky, pixels degrading
so we each step up and stoop over the mirrored altar of the social web
praying to suck up a little wire of heaven-powered powder pounded down to earth
to flood thousands of oozing synapses with a dose of cosmic energy
all becoming one— one explosion— doused in a hundred days of holy solar power
By 7 am or so, as no one really knew, it became clear
that the only thing we'd all made together was a mess of this place
several empty Narcan tubes had rolled under the coffee table
crushed beer cans, a stray dog's leash, a vodka bottle in the bathtub, etc. etc.
and inside all of our blasted godly crowns, a little lost child whines, begs
a plea, a prayer, a pinprick dream desire to dress it all up again next year
to try once more to huff up as much stardust as we can, leap the horizon,
as our little dog laughs, and we pretend we can light up our lives before winter arrives.
The Fourth Day of the Year, Northern Hemisphere
Distant low double moan
moan of a train horn blown
wail-echoing up through canyon walls
brushes my ear impressed upon a pillow
Morning's echo-echo of soft sobbing
sobbing out from my partner's throat
throat alone in the room next door
door on the night before, before today
Pale yellow day light
dayglow in the sheer curtains
dabbing our faces in cool color
at seven in the morning
Cheekbone and nose touch
touch my lover's scapula bones
turning away from low wan glow
burrowed into the low wall of her
Bedclothes heaped in layers
layered against the chill air
musked and mounded like a pile of leaves
earth-scented warming in the sun
Sleeping goose standing at noontime
standing on one black-webbed foot
balanced with beak tucked backwards
under opposite wing blindfolded by feathers
Body smooth as a ceramic vase
smoothed-down ink-dabbed surfaces
patterned in stripes and speckles
shadows caressing a sloping sinuous curve
Lint-grey cumulu-nimbi dense and layered
layered row upon row in crossing sky bands
murmur about storm surges and tide tables and eke
frail winter sunbeams through the slit of a squinting eye
Start of the day — end of the day bleed
bleeding together in thinned-out pigments
all the dull day long short half-light bleak
tingle and trace at the rear of the retina
Never enough to burn
Never enough to brighten
Never enough to bring
forth a blade of grass Spring
DA Denckla is an artist and curator who proudly identifies as a human, jewish, queer, disabled, neurodivergent survivor. INFP-T "Turbulent Mediator". Aquarius Sun – Leo Moon – Ares Rising. DA's work leans into listening to non-human teachers with ecopoetic echo-location, playing with mixed media of text, sound, and image on stage and page. Founder of @PraxinoscopeX — an artist collective platform presenting live group exhibitions documented in print and audio forms. Works published: Praxinoscope PerformX Docs, Iowa Review; Mudfish, Hot Pink, and Nothing in Particular. DA is a D.C. punk whose music for 80's and 90's bands Carpe Diem, Geek, and Choke will be re-released by Numero Group in 2024. DA feels lucky to be living with his partner and their many plants in a railroad flat carved from the ground-floor of a Victorian-era hospital in the Echo Park section of Los Angeles, CA. Some of DA's days are spent teaching creative writing and literature to college students. Occasionally available @da_denckla.