Researching 'venus In Furs' And 'psychopathia Sexualis' Poem by Kevin Kiely

If you were never whipped, beaten or abused, prepare yourself
when you hear the regulations for handling manuscripts
in the Archives Department, where the book rests are grey

satin, polished to perfection. What thief picklocks in here
after hours scratching like a field mouse to finally peek through
snapshots of Venus in Furs. The handwriting is legible. The dull

blue ink of letters by Leopold Sacher-Masoch, musty stamps peeling
at the edges. As you raise your head from past to present, the archivists
beyond the glass in their den never smile, and their stiff shirted

manners make this a place of no time, the clock a mere ornament
aimlessly signifying some vague hour and minute. Food is never
allowed in this building, not even illicit chewing gum can threaten

the enclosure. PRIVATE NO ENTRY. ‘We would prefer if you
would remain seated at all times when handling manuscripts
and letters.' ‘Please do not bring mobile phones into the reading

room.' ‘Please use PENCIL to take notes, INK will stain books
and paper.' If you were never whipped, beaten or abused
by godly parents; instead, shown a sublime and ordinary sense

of discipline and morality, you could not eat these archive-wafers
and wash your hands with perverted grinning.It takes a leap
of the spirit to feel the touch of the sacred liquid beyond written

knowledge. The cone-shaped paper cups beside the water fountain
may be smoothed into arrowhead shapes and thrown in the bin
but that is enough subversion.No, you don't have to look pleased

and reply with cheery greetings on arrival and departure, to banish
thoughts of suicide provoked by the archivists' insistent surliness
and dour demeanour. Who would smite this building with a smile

and light up the general gloominess? If you were never whipped,
beaten or abused and can be cheeky like a sparrow, capable of
fighting for crumbs in a public park, remember you will only

receive two letters by Richard Freiherr von Krafft-Ebbing
in each handling folder, since that is as far as you can be trusted
to count. You are required to pull on the furry, fluffy gloves

when handling the sepia photographs. The archivists cut the
binding tapes in lengths, raising them like Roman whips
slowly with a tremble that increases the chill, and their

expressions with the hint of a voodoo stare through icy spectacles