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HJ[Message 1 of 1 in thread 21 of 42] rec.arts.erotica

Unicorn Poem
    From: <[e-mail]>
    Date: 20 Apr 1994 02:18:09 -0400    (3 screens)

Archive-name: unicorn.p

  February 12, 1993


  Two unicorns mating in an open meadow
  The elegance of a lioness and her prey
  I run out into the world naked
  And the rain falls like tears from my cheeks
  I strech my soul across the water
  And make passionate love to the surface

  The lightning observes me
  And is torn between turning away
  Or helping me reach my destination
  The fish nibble at my toes
More?all
  While serpents caress my breasts
  I am truly free!

  The primitive expressions of rebirth grow within
  I cringe in passionate intensity
  The world is now watching

  The orgy rises and I scream
  My head swims to the surface
  While my heart sinks to the floor
  They watch in terror as I drown in a sea of orgasm

  The echoes of pleasure ring a thousand miles
  I resurface, still uncovered
  And cuddle next to the Tyger
  Until the audience departs
  Then, I walk home.


  Elise Anne Hudson

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HJ[Message 1 of 1 in thread 22 of 42] rec.arts.erotica

Relativity
    From: Thomas David Kehoe <[e-mail]>
    Date: 20 Apr 1994 02:10:10 -0400    (26 screens)

Archive-name: relativity

RELATIVITY
(c) 1983 Thomas David Kehoe

When Holden Torona was 18 years old, back in '68, he'd tried
every consciousness-altering trip, drug and technique known in the
free world.  Now that he was 33, he'd tried 150 more.  Holden had
done everything from crystal therapy to crystal meth.  This
morning he was at a place called the Dharma Center waiting for the
guru to show up to teach a class in astral projection, or out-of-
body traveling.  Holden looked around at the other people.  They
were mostly middle-aging health food store owners and
enlightenment-seeking housewives -- but Holden saw one woman to
dialogue.  She was a little thin, but was tanned and looked
naturally blonde.  She was straightening the hem of her skirt over
More?all
the tops of her Frye boots.  Holden sat next to her and looked
down her Indian print blouse.

"Hi, didn't I meet you at the festival last year?" Holden
asked.

She looked at him.  "You mean the Moonduk Witchcraft Festival,
or the Breitenbush Healing Gathering?"

"Maybe you don't recognize me with my shades on."  Holden
slowly took off his mirrored black sunglasses.  "Holden's my name
-- Holden Torona."

"I'm Sachiko.  I'm so bad at remembering people -- where was it
that we met?"

"It doesn't matter, you were such an intense lover that I
forgot where I was, too," Holden said.  Sachiko blushed.  "You do
much out-of-body traveling?" he asked.

"No, this will be my first time," Sachiko said.

"Mine too," Holden said.

"It sounds so difficult.  The instructions the guru gave us
said that we couldn't consume any drugs, coffee or cigarettes for
21 days before this," Sachiko said.

"21 days?  I thought he said 21 minutes.  I hope that quart of
tequila I consumed last night doesn't fuck me up.  What else are
you into?"

"Well, I'm really good at tantric yoga.  That's the yoga of
sexual energy."

"Tantric yoga, huh?  Why don't we make it, I mean, get together
tonight?  Would you like to go out for dinner?"

"Sure," Sachiko said.

"Good, write your address down here --"  Holden dug a matchbook
out of the pocket of his denim jacket "-- and I'll pick you up at
six-thirty."  He took a closer look at her nose and made a mental
note to score another two grams of coke.

An old Indian man shuffled in from another room.  He had long
grey hair, a long beard, and wore a white robe.  "Welcome to the
Dharma Center.  I am Shree Ajata Jainamahavir.  You may call me
A.J. for short," he said in a high whiny voice.  "Please follow me
to the meditation chamber."  A.J. shuffled down the corridor.

When all the students were sitting in the lotus position, A.J.
instructed them in meditation.  "Feel your consciousness floating
without restrictions," he said.  "Concentrate your energy in your
body's center of gravity.  Now let your mind wander free while
your body's energy stays in that center."

Holden let his mind wander a few inches and felt a distinct
_pop_.

"Now open your eyes," A.J. said.  Holden was surprised to find
himself floating a few feet above his body, which was still
sitting on the floor.  The guru and the other students were also
floating in the air.  "No one can see us now," A.J. was saying,
"but we can see everything.  We can travel great distances in a
single thought.  I will now take you to the Himalayas, to the
banks of the river Nerenjara, to the very bodhi tree where the
Buddha attained enlightenment.  You will see how peacefully and
spiritually the river Nerenjara flows..."

"Fuck this Himalayan jive," Holden said to himself.  "I'm going
to the nearest high school and check out the girl's locker room."

Thirty seconds later he found his quarry.  Twenty fifteen-year-
old sophomores were just coming in from playing soccer.  Holden
excitedly watched the girls undress and shower.  His only wish for
physical existence was to help the girls drop the soap more often.

He stayed in the high school all afternoon.  When school was out
he went downtown.  Holden checked out every night club, strip
joint and adult movie theater in town.  He also checked out every
back room of every night club, strip joint and adult movie theater
in town.  The most interesting was at Cornhole's, a gay leather
bar that Holden would never take his body to.

At two-thirty a.m. Holden remembered Sachiko.  He flew back to
the Dharma Center to pick up his body before going to see her.

The doors of the building were locked, but Holden slipped in
through a wall.  It was dark inside, and he spent a minute finding
the meditation room.  His body wasn't there.  He looked all over
for it, but it wasn't in the building.  He looked for it in the
parking lot.  It wasn't there.  Neither was his black Camaro.

"I'm up seishin creek without a pooda stick," Holden thought.
"They've towed away my car _and_ my body."

It was too cold to stand outside.  Holden flew home.  His
Camaro wasn't outside, but some aspiring twit had parked a dark
blue Buick Century in his place.  Holden popped in through his
bedroom window.

"Well I'll be a Mormon's brother-in-law," Holden said.  There
was his body, fast asleep on his waterbed.  Alone, unfortunately,
but Holden thought he'd solve that problem just as soon as he
popped back into his body.  He started to squeeze in, but his body
woke up.

"So you've finally come traipsing in at three o'clock in the
morning," Holden's body said.

"Yea, hold still while I get in.  Then we'll go and get laid."

"No, thank you.  I've been waiting a long time for this.  I'm
not taking you back.  For 33 years you've been abusing me, with
all your cigarettes and drugs and cheating on women.  You're a
disgrace, Holden.  How many times did you drink two six-packs,
dump your motorcycle and put me in the hospital for four months?
What do you think my liver is like after living with you?"

"Shut up.  I've had a long night.  I'm not arguing with my
fucking body.  Now hold still a minute," Holden said.  Every time
he tried to get into his body it moved away from him.

"No way.  I've finally started to act like a decent, moral
citizen.  This afternoon I bought a three-piece suit and got a job
as a certified public accountant."

"You got a job as a CPA?  But I haven't studied accounting a
day in my life."

"Didn't matter.  It's mostly attitude they look for," his body
replied.  It had also gotten a shave and a haircut.  "By the way,
where's my car?" Holden asked.

"I sold it.  Traded it for a Buick."

"You traded my Camaro for a Buick?  My Camaro with $12,000
worth of custom equipment, including a 6.6 liter engine, for a
used fucking Buick!"

"Signed it over this afternoon.  Nothing you can do about it
now," Holden's body said.

"You son of Satan's mother!  I've killed men's families for
less!"

"Nothing you can do about it now.  Look, I've got to get some
sleep.  I have to go to work in a few hours.  Go away."

Holden took a different approach.  "Hey, I'm sorry about
yelling at you.  The Camaro had timing problems, anyway.  How
about we shake hands, or something, and then you let me in.  What
do you say?"

"Not a chance.  As soon as you were back in control you'd get a
beer from the refrigerator and go pick up a chick, as you call
them."

"At least let me back in to jerk off for ten minutes.  You
can't imagine the things I've seen tonight.  I've got the biggest
hard-on of my life and I don't even have a cock," Holden pleaded.

"Certainly not.  Don't even try anything after I'm asleep, I'm
a very light sleeper.  Good night, good-bye and good riddance."
His body fell asleep.

At six-thirty Holden's clock radio turned on to the all-news
radio station.  His body woke up and went into the bathroom to
shave.

"Look here," Holden said, "a body without a soul is like --"

"Shut up, you jerk.  I want to hear the stock market report."

"-- is like a radio station that doesn't play music."

"That's just fine with me.  By the way, I'm going to trade in
all your Grateful Dead records for some Mozart."  Holden's body
finished shaving, put on a Brooks Brothers suit and walked out the
door.  "I'm going to the IHOP for breakfast.  Don't follow me."

Holden thought a moment, then flew to the Dharma Center.  No
one was there except a group of people outside doing Tai Chi.
A.J., the guru, wasn't anywhere to be found.  Holden went into the
office and found A.J.'s home address on a bulletin board.  Holden
had done many things in his life, but he'd never been to an Indian
guru's home.  He hated to visit old people, especially foreigners
who could hardly speak English.  The address was way up in the
hills.  He must live in a little shack in the woods, Holden
thought as he flew towards the mountains, as the sun rose over the
highest peak.  He probably doesn't even have a flush toilet.

Holden found the guru's home.  It wasn't a shack.  It was a
sleek modern mansion under towering Douglas firs on a secluded
mountain top.  Parked outside were a red Mercedes 450SL, a Jaguar
XJ-S, and a Lotus.  Holden popped inside.  A fellow in a Hawaiian
shirt was picking a lemon from a tree in the glassed-in living
room.  It was the guru.

"Nice digs," Holden said.

A.J. looked up.  "Who are you?"

"Holden Torona's the name.  Excuse me for not shaking hands --
both of mine went to work downtown."

"You're the creep that didn't go to the Himalayas yesterday.
There's one of you bastards in every bunch."

"Well, something important came up at the last minute.  I've
got a bit of a problem, and I need your help," Holden said.

"What happened?" A.J. asked as they walked back to the dining
room.

"My body sold my Camaro and became as CPA."

"No shit?  There's good money in accounting.  Not very
interesting, but steady work, and they sure make a good living."

"It's not the money," Holden said.  "In fact, I'd be willing to
let it work during the day, if the money's really that good, but
I've got to have it back at night.  It won't let me back in."

"Won't let you in, eh?"  A.J. sat down at the dining room
table.  Not one, not two, but three slender young dark-eyed
completely nude Indian women served A.J. his breakfast.

"A nice set, wouldn't you say?" A.J. said.  Holden agreed.
"These girls are in such perfect physical condition that there is
no place on their bodies where you could squeeze a piece of flesh
between your thumb and forefinger.  Try it," A.J. said.  "Oh yes,
you can't.  Well, you'll believe me I'm sure."  He took a bite of
steak.  "So your body won't let you back in?" he said with his
mouth full.  "That's never happened before.  You must be a real
asshole.  Once in a while someone doesn't want to go back to their
body, sometimes to achieve enlightenment, sometimes to avoid
paying their MasterCard debts."

"What happens to those bodies?"

"They usually go to work for the telephone company."

"I suspected that," Holden said.  "By the way, why do you look
29 now, when yesterday you looked about 105 years old?"

"I put on a lot of make-up before going to work," A.J. said.
He stood up with a crooked back and shuffled around the table,
saying, "Calm is the thought, calm the word and deed of him who,
rightly knowing, is wholly freed, perfectly peaceful and
equiposed," in a high, whiny voice.

"Convincing," Holden said.

"For 90K a year, it sure is.  What're you going to do about
your lack of physical existence?"

"I don't know -- I was going to ask you what to do."

"I can't see much you can do.  Your body won't let you in and
you can't get into someone else's body unless they're out of it."

"What about those bodies that work for the telephone company?"

"You wouldn't want any of them," A.J. said.

"Why not?"

"No one working for Ma Bell is upwardly mobile.  If you can't
have upward mobility, why have physical existence?"

"Of course," Holden said.

"Let's pop over to India for a minute.  I've got something to
show you."  A.J. hung a "Back in 5 minutes" sign around his neck,
told the women to brush and floss his teeth, and popped out of his
body.  A.J. and Holden were soon flying over the Pacific Ocean.
They took a right over Hawaii, a left over Malaysia, and dropped
into the Deer Park at Isipatama.

"This is where the Buddha used to hang out, about 2600 years
ago," A.J. said.  Holden saw three disembodied spirits.  He
recognized them as the women in A.J.'s house.

"How are you doing, girls?" A.J. asked.

"I have found the answer," one of the spirits said.  "It is the
sound of the little brook running through the woods when no one is
listening."

"Nope," A.J. said.

"I understand it now," the second woman's spirit said.  "It is
the sound of the wind blowing through the Himalayan mountain peaks
when no one is there."

"Nope," A.J. said.

"I've figured it out.  It must be the sound of the little
flowers opening when they feel the morning sun," the third woman's
spirit said.

"No, girls, you haven't figured it out yet.  Back to the ol'
drawing board," A.J. said.  The spirits looked rather
disappointed.

"You see," A.J. said to Holden as they flew out of India, "five
years ago I showed the girls how to step out of their bodies, took
them to the Deer Park, and then asked them a question.  I said,
'You all know the sound of two hands clapping.  What is the sound
of one hand clapping?'  They've been there ever since trying to
figure it out."

"And you've been at home fucking their bodies," Holden said.

"You've guessed it.  Nice trick, wouldn't you say?"

"Uh-huh.  Is there an answer to the question?"

"Of course, every question has an answer.  Among Zen Buddhists,
when a monk asks the master a stupid question, the master slaps
the monk's face.  That is the sound of one hand clapping."  They
arrived at A.J.'s house.  He popped back into his body and took
the sign off his neck.  One of the women knelt down and unzipped
his Bermuda shorts.

"So what should I do?" Holden asked.

"I don't know, that's your problem," A.J. said as he stroked
the woman's hair.

"Why don't you give me one of these girls for a few days, and
maybe the Lotus to go with it?"

"No, I can imagine how you must have treated your old body.
You're not going to get one of these girls."

"Look, you can't just ignore me.  You got me into this.  I
could sue you!"

"You'll sue me?  I'd like to see you try.  You're a smart boy,
figure out something.  But do it yourself.  Go away," A.J. said.
His attention was taken by the woman between his legs.

"Son of a one-eyed yak-stealing stuffed rat," Holden said, and
left A.J.'s mansion.  He flew down the mountain and into the city.

Holden descended to his home and slipped into his bedroom.  On his
desk was a box of embossed business cards with the address of the
company where his body was now working.  In the wastebasket was
the matchbook with Sachiko's address.  He took a closer look, and
then flew across town to her house.  Her house had a neatly tended
flower garden in the front yard and a peach tree in back.  Holden
went into her bedroom.  Sachiko was just waking up, alone.

"Hi, sorry about standing you up last night, babe.  My father
had a heart attack and I had to take him to the hospital.  I
would've called, but I couldn't find your telephone number."

"How is he?" Sachiko asked.

"Who?"

"Your father?"

"He's fine now.  Amazing what doctors can do these days."

"That's good.  How do you like this astral projection?  I think
it's the most intense thing I've done since macrobiotics," Sachiko
said.

"Uh, yea, it sure is intense, but my body became a CPA while I
was out of it."

"Really?  That's cosmic -- I had a similar experience last
night.  I left my body to go meditate by the ocean, and when I got
back, my body had baked me two dozen whole-wheat chocolate chip
cookies."

"Yea, that's pretty cosmic, all right, but it's really not at
all similar to my situation.  My body won't let me back in."

"It won't let you back in?  Why not?"

"Conflicting lifestyles."

"Hmm, I can see that.  What're you going to do?"

"Well, that's why I came to see you.  I was wondering if you'd
do me a small favor."

"Sure. What is it?"  Sachiko pulled on her Levi's and a wool
sweater.

"Well, if you could just distract my body's attention long
enough for me to get back in control.  It shouldn't take more than
a few moments."

"OK.  How should I distract it?"

"Oh, I thought maybe you could think of a way to get its
attention."

"I can't think of anything off-hand..."  Sachiko warmed her
hands over her wood stove.

"Well, it is a body, and there are a few things a woman could
do, you know --"

"Like what sorts of things?"

"Physical sorts of things.  Something to grab its attention,
you know, you could grab its, you know, grab its --"

"Attention?  Yea, I'll try to think of a way to do that.  I
have to go to work now.  Maybe we can talk about this over some
herb tea sometime."  She walked out to her Volkswagon.

"No, wait, this won't take long --"

"I'll be late if I don't go now.  Give me a call this evening."

"But, Sachiko, you don't understand --"  She drove off.
I should've checked my biorhythms yesterday, Holden thought.
He went to see if his body had changed its mind yet.

"No," it said, when Holden found it downtown walking to a
restaurant for lunch.

"You're really enjoying your first day of accounting," Holden
said.

"That's right.  I'm working on a merger between two insurance
companies, actually more of a buy-out of the majority stockholder,
in which the lesser --"

"I don't give a shit what you did this morning.  But, just out
of curiosity, how much money are you --"

"Look!  A burning building!"

"So?  Exactly how much are they paying you for --"

"Oh my God!  The firemen don't see that there's an old woman
trapped on the sixth floor!"

"So what?  She's black," Holden said.

His body raced across the street to the fire.  "Oh no, you're
not thinking of rescuing anyone now," Holden yelled at his body.

"No fucking way -- I need my body being a dead hero like Custer
needed more Indians!"  His body paid no attention.

"Look here," Holden said, "you complained about my hobbies
being injurious to your health -- rescuing old ladies from burning
buildings is about as healthy as a canoe trip to Dunkirk during
the evacuation --" his body raced up the stairs through the smoke
and flames "-- you don't care what I'd do if you died, do you? You
have no concern for your poor old soul.  Look at it this way,"
Holden argued, "if you trip and fall when you're carrying her down
the stairs, and she sprains her ankle, she'll probably sue the
hell out of you.  Did you stop to think about that?" His body
reached the old lady, and carried her back down the stairs.

"No, you're not thinking about that.  I am.  If I were in
charge, we'd be soaking our kidneys in aged Glenlivet over at the
VQ.  But no, you've got to be --" Holden's body reached the door
and ran outside to deliver the old lady to a waiting ambulance.

A huge crowd cheered. The fire chief shook Holden's body's hand
and dusted the soot off of Holden's body's singed Brooks Brothers
suit.

"Well, I showed you," Holden's body said to Holden as it
stepped into a restaurant for a quick lunch.  "In 33 years, you
never won a prize or honor of any kind.  Now you see how
productive a member of society can be."

"Jack off, meathead," Holden said.  He waited at the bar until
his body went back to the office.  Holden followed, hoping to
think of a way to get back in control of it.  At the office,
Holden's body wasted no time in getting to work, but scarcely five
minutes had passed when a man wearing a ski mask and a Saturday
night special showed up at the door.  Nice neighborhood, Holden
decided.

"All of you -- hand over your wallets!  And open the safe!" the
newcomer said to the accountants.

"Over my dead body, you scoundrel!" Holden's body said,
standing up.

"You asked for it," the thief said, and shot Holden's body
between the eyes.  It dropped to the floor like a rock.

 "Oh shit," Holden said.

The thief cleaned out the safe, making off with $10,000 and
enough securities to choke a boa constrictor.  Holden absolutely
had to have a drink now.  He was all the way to the bar at
Father's before he remembered that there was no way that he could
get drunk.  He looked longingly at the 108 bottles arranged in
neat rows behind the bar.  Holden decided to sit there at the bar
and not move until he figured out what to do.  A man sat down next
to Holden and got drunk.  Another fellow took his place and got
drunk.  Holden stopped counting at thirty, and he still hadn't
figured out a solution to his problem.

    *  *  *  *  *  *

Holden floated in the lotus position over Mt. Everest.  He
watched A.J. lead a group of students to the peak.

"Say, A.J.," Holden yelled.  "Do you suppose you could answer a
question for me?"

A.J. floated over to Holden.  "What is it?"

"Well, sit right down, old man, and I'll ask.  Suppose," Holden
said, "that I can't go north or south, east or west, or up or
down.  Where can I go?"

"You can't go north or south, east or west, or up or down.
Well, you can' t go anywhere then, can you?"

"No, there's one way that I can still go."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure.  Think about it," Holden said.

"I can figure it out, just give me a minute,"  A.J. said.  "Let
me see, I can't go north or south..."

    *  *  *  *  *  *

"I can still go in and out," Holden said as three slender young
Indian women showed him new meanings of bodily pleasure.

 - 30 -

--
"Why my thoughts are my own, when they are in, but when they are out
they are another's." - Susannah Martin, hanged for witchcraft, 1692
Thomas David Kehoe     [e-mail]      Casa Futura Technologies
Ask me about treatments for STUTTERING and other speech disorders.
Ask me about the REED COLLEGE ALUMNI mailing list.
--
Moderator, rec.arts.erotica.  Submissions to [e-mail].
Please, no reposts, first drafts, or requests for "subscriptions,"
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