Remnants of Romanticism
The vintage vignettes have long since vanished,
like a snapping shutter in the sky-loft or
Julia Cameron’s cherub-
fluttering fairy dust from the remnants
of Sherlock Holmes’s cocaine bottle.
Watson has deduced that celluloid bosoms
parallel to the mass erection of the populous-
transmuting classicised nudes into pornography
and romanticised Venuses into exposed vaginas.
The sexual-rebellion-cocaine-cacophonies fly,
throwing Louis Lumiere’s ghost awry,
with projections of breasts and pubic hair-
the filthy footed fancies of prostitution.
Laudanum lovers lower into spinning spools
of sex and sexuality,
alongside the muted murmurs of mutoscopes-
glimpses of an exposed nipple:
More overtly placed than Lord Byron’s
disguised in scintillating stanza
about walking in beauty.
The disgruntled whores walk along
the streets of Paris centuries later,
plucked from the third eye of Brassai,
taming the one eyed snake at midnight-
Which has long since turned to dust after
coming into contact with Medusa.
By Oisin Vink.