I'm very pleased that I've almost completed a new designer vagina!
I had kind've thought I had lost the impetus or inspiration for that series, but now it's back and I'm pretty happy about that. The latest piece includes the line, 'What is this, a pie eating contest for anorexics?'
Speaking of force feeding, I've been experiencing more than usual weird bad dreams lately. I don't feel like talking about all of them, but here's a small synopsis of sorts of two.
1. My dog and I had been kidnapped and were in the midst of some kind of strange interrogation situation. We weren't cooperating with revealing the information. My dog can't talk and I didn't know what to say. Our kidnapper/interrogator was growing impatient. He looked like a scrawny high school kid, but was pretty much terrifying anyway, due to his lack of compassion and twisted sadism. He threatened us with a torture that involved being force fed these hideous live bugs until we couldn't possibly consume any more, before moving on to the next torture. These insects were grotesque. They resembled large scorpions except the main thorax areas of their bodies were shaped more like those of extra-plump spiders. They were black with mottled white markings and very ominous indeed. By far, the worst part of the whole dream was me imagining poor Sockeye being force fed these awful creatures. As a dog, he wouldn't understand what was happening and most certainly would not eat them willingly, no matter what threats were flung at him--so his mouth would have to be yanked open and he'd be whimpering, shaking, and cowering, and it would just be a terribly disturbing scene. I'd offer to eat his bugs for him, but my offer would not be accepted, because the sadist would sense that it would be even more tortuous for me to watch my dog being tortured.
2. I wanted to buy a second dog, but not a "real" dog. I didn't think I could handle another real dog, so I had my heart set on this new hybrid creature that wasn't alive per se, but still exhibited certain traits of living creatures. For example, it made these little breathing sounds and motions, almost like some kind of pulsating. It looked kind of like a stuffed animal version of a black poodle fused with a rather bedraggled version of a real toy poodle, minus the fancy hair cut. Everyone else seemd to think I was weird, maybe even perverse for wanting this thing, but I wanted it all the same. Everyone else thought these hybrid creatures were creepy and ugly, but I found them adorable. I would name it Dagmar.
Then the scene changed and I didn't look like me anymore. I looked like some girl from the late 80s or early 90s, with long straight hairsprayed hair and acid-washed jeans. I was in some kind of holding room, maybe even inside a prison, and a burly male security guard started frisking me for contraband and weaponry, and he was being very rough and convoluted with his frisking process. I mean it was clearly obvious that I had a large knife strapped to my thigh inside a holster; I wasn't even trying to hide it; it was fastened to the outside of my jeans. So why didn't he just confiscate my knife and be done with it? No, something more insidious seemed to be afoot here. He saw my knife, but didn't seem to care about that.
He started getting even rougher with his frisking process and I think he was trying to teach me a lesson for wanting that perverted poodle-like creature. I started to struggle with him, even though he was brawny. He turned me around so my backside was facing him, forced my hands down onto a chair, and started tugging at my shirt. I thought he was going to rape me.
Instead, he pulled up my shirt, exposing my lower back, and then used a special device to pierce a hole into the flesh. A dog leash would be attached to the hole in my skin and I would have to walk my new fake dog using this leash that was attached to my own body. Although not very pleased about this procedure, it did cross my mind that at least it would have made for more convenient dog walking if he had pierced that hole in the front of my body rather than the back.
Update: The coding glitch has been fixed and you can now read my poem in Denver Syntax 18 (in case you couldn't before and still want to)--
I had another real/fake animal hybrid dream last night, but this one involved a small panda bear like creature, sliding down the stairs...
Also, just a little note that my new poetry chapbook manuscript, FONDANT PIG ANGST, is coming soon from Slash Pine Press (tentatively sleighted for this December, which is very festive indeed, eh?). I love this little article/update on the Slash Pine Press blog, which includes the statement, "Juliet puts the Slash in Slash Pine"! (P.S. The cover art is going to include a woman riding a giant pig!)
Yay! I'm a slasher!
ALSO, new reviews are up at Tarpaulin Sky Reviews, including mine of Michelle Detorie's really good dusie kollektiv 3 poetry chapbook, 'Ode to Industry':
Update: Another little dilemma of production versus creation: