Venis punks

The maenad kicks off “Mayday! Mayday!” with an orgy of unorthodox sound.   

Writing by The Maenad
Art by emoc


An orgy of unorthodox sound.   

A wondering querlandt silence broken by the sound of footfalls, 

echoes cavorting in the high stairwell 

A winter’s mountain pass massacre of screeching

Stay fresh, appear clean as you do the dirtiest things

Never fatigue, always emerging

Corpulent and wet like divine Venus

A not so tame Maenad de Mileaux

Painted in fresh  presemenal drip 

And old bagged blood.

Riding chrome, a

Nova-99 silicone scale inseminator

A cornucopia of cheap wine and cheaper warts

Wailing and whining words like Wordsworth


Words, our favorite words, smashed 

Up and inhaled like the fine pow-

der of a new neon, electron drug. 

Precisely the kind of drug we need today

A drug that wins elections, confuses convection 

and both overwhelms and dulls 

the sense organs into a peak time, 

twilight fine transmission, broadcast 

straight along the galactic axis 

Radio girls and video boys, wireless gurls 

and thread-bone bois, all the flesh puppets, 

all the toy droids, all of them free flesh and free metal, 

all twitching and dancing, transmitting to each other, 

a wicked spiral, to another, a conspiracy of dance,

Getting high off our own signal, supplied by 

Hale Orgonne

The supple ache and need

Touch is necessary 

Strip off your fake skins and




About The Artist

emoc is an enigma

About The Maenad

The Maenad is a long lost LA girl, a six foot one blonde towering over the Seattle skyline.

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