Oh holy one, did you
taste me today yes,
it was bitter im sure
That car almost smooshed me
into the pile of shit i have become
Lords of Shit,
i will fucking fight you
This is the doom of twinkly
sprinkled
sparkling
quaffing
vomitings,
iam
seething on the shit-shore
My screams are well greased
I aimed to please,
now yearn for release
I wear these bands about these hands
They keep my I in place
about the land that there within
resides one running face
A stew expelled from towers,
ornate and symbolized,
dares denizens to crane and come
to sweep their finite shames aside
~ ~ ~
Man hobbles alongside little girl and wife.
They meander past the towers,
live in love’s powers,
& do not discuss
what is above or not
Your pen, Lucien, cuts a gaze
through mysty slanted window panes,
poised to recoil in some tired tune’s hook –
the one that amps up the whos who DONT LOOK
Angel danger is measured by
vibrating rails already laid,
made of the material of forgotten days
The weakened lover’s limp mandibles
still incite the carp-like cock,
swelling in secret,
secluded in the callouseeum,
sedate in sooth
as that energy moves
through atomic dead ends