#the taming of the shrew

it was my mother or my grandmother who first spoke to me of elizabeth taylor

something about the diameter of her waist, a famously narrow waist in her early days

(i was at the time taken with the image of vivien leigh in her stays

in gone with the wind, “scarlett o'hara was not beautiful…”

shoving eggs into her mouth, “ashley wilkes says he likes a girl with a healthy appetite”)

i like richard burton’s thighs, above, his thighs against his jowls in a climate of fur

and powdered cleavage.  their love nearly destroyed that gigantic movie “cleopatra”

my associations with which are probably too personal and too intense to digress upon in only memorializing spirit.

the sexuality of elizabeth taylor and richard burton is charged

with the spirits of the head. a feral and vociferous cerebrality invests their lust.

just thinking about them makes me want to fist cold hamburger or fuck somebody i actually love

for a change.

above are richard burton and elizabeth taylor in “the comedians” based on the novel by graham greene

or maybe they are above in a different movie.  in any case

the comedians is perhaps the most famous novel about haiti

under the fascist rule of papa doc

the world now knows of.

my friend justin watched the comedians on netflix

the night before i went to haiti the first time

“les chevaliers de la mort sont maintenant ici” said my dearest friend there

two days after aristide’s arrival, seven days or so ago.  i am sorry to see her go.

elizabeth taylor.

there are so many other things i should say now but i’m not.

i am sorry to see elizabeth taylor go.  a bit short in the leg, richard burton said of her

and with a double chin and an overdeveloped chest. 

for me they are total sex

richard burton and elizabeth taylor

i love them like an innocent.

as soon as they met they just got fatter and fatter, tanner and tanner, fighting and fucking their way across the world.

i love them.  watch the way he gnaws at her

sometimes.

richard burton’s sexiness is this barrel-chested face of dissolute and withering superiority.

his father was a miner i heard him say to dick cavett once.

i have a thing for coal.  a private thing for coal attached to a dead friend.

richard burton’s welsh coalminer father is attached to the withering superiority

of the liquor mouth out of which pours shakespeare and with which he devours the body of his double

wife elizabeth taylor.

as god is my witness i love them both.

in “the taming of the shrew” they are both so fat and ragey

they can barely move, corseted in costume and horniness, corseted

by words.  franco zeferelli directed the movie.  i don’t know if it’s that good

but i watched it a bunch in my “erogeny of violence” days.

more on that later

or not.

i love the fat of love.

i love this love of ripened age that devoured the youth of these two beauties.

tanning oil diamonds chipped beef and wild turkey

also it’s a pleasure to have more than two hundred followers on this blog

and to have had two beautiful readings in new york last week

and to have had two weeks in new mexico during which one major and four lesser visions occurred

i guess more about the personal life of the world later

yeah

that’s gonna have to wait at least another day

like the always-already to which a reader or writer of a certain stripe continually refers

i should change the title of this post

to SEXYFAT