I am Kendalle Aubra, born and raised in Los Angeles, and, for a time, borne and razed in New York City. I now split my time between the two. My raw punnilingus knows no humility. I am a brazen maven with a wardrobe stitched from the dreams of drag queens and Marie Antoinette enthusiasts from decades past and future. I am the synthesis of Pagliacci and a Cotton Candy Barbarella; a theatrical and galactic version of Tura Satana. A retro-futurist weened on riot grrrl and Edgar Allen Poe. An artist of many media--yea, wanton in the arts and insatiable in curiosity. I've come to spread my verse and vices like a plague of unholy temptations released upon vulnerable and unsuspecting masses. I am also known as the solo musical project Freudian slit. I have also directed and produced the infamous Angry Feminist Pin-Up Calendar.
‘Ere Dawn broke, and rosy-fingered
Stroked the sculpture of his face,
Lost was I in thoughts that lingered
In this dark and dismal space.
Time hath stained me with compassion
But I hardly can adore
How in a Plutonian fashion
Enter lost loves from before.
Enter Mem’ry, enter fellows,
O ye violents! O ye liars!
Midst the broken-bonèd bellows
Of my self-worth on the pyre!
Speak of nights I still abhor
Or raise thy sickly face to flame
That age-old wounds still scream in horror
At the mention of thy name!
Send me swimming in confusion
With your practiced honeyed-speech
Linking horror to illusion
That my youth you still can leech!
Lie to me now, screaming specters
That you earn your hateful keep!
Tears to alm you dream-infectors!
I cannot sleep! I cannot sleep!