An earthworm permanently deracinated
from the dank, delicious dirt;
I have averted the realm of real and planted my alabaster face
into a heap of idealistic manure. The fetid smells of life
Rotted as furry fungal infested fruits. It is slack and soggy

I heavily breathe in and out like a pneumonia patient
On a bald bed of belligerence rasping and scraping while
I scathe the seconds, and peruse that invisible timeline of tenacity
which tries too tediously to deliberate and promulgate its
Unattainable solace, scratching the lies from my silvery surface

The edge of superego and the irascible sack of god
that dangles from a black pit in my pitiless soul
It does no good at all…No
It does sit there in its happy quiescence trite and trembling
You: the golden reverie, the white quilted fleece
Now vanquished by this self ordained recalcitrance

It hints and winks and dashes the sweetness
from the split tendons of my fat, clammy heart.
A persimmon for a parsimonious passion puckers its dulcet seams
Rancid, fermented flesh…You are the hole that fills and chills

The licentious thrill of a lecher. The pink leaves that perch and perk
Throbbing like a muffled drum or Indians wailing in the desert
My ears deafened while listening to minds wriggling
as maggots in gray walls of mausoleums
My corpse cold with degeneracy That kind of cremated culture.
It is stinging and tingling at once my woman is watered down


What purity lies within that congealed muscle?
What truth in its flabby gelatinous mechanism?


I stolidly wonder at how the veil of shrieks cover. You smile content
My fangs now glow white in the breath of blueberry night
Covet me oh dark one…The unsullied reflection pinned to a wall
It is clear that the maleficent moths have you now
And they spin and twirl in the yellow fog
Chattering in an inchoate chorus
Teething on the hollow recesses of that dying desire
Refracts its benign tendencies into a void of ebony eternity
It’s the urge that I desist. The yellow eyes. The flaming gin.


I call on the magic pendulum that falls
Slicing the breadth of my white perfection in two
one half whole…one pale blue
Missing the mark it goads its satanic tip
Breasts that melt into one. Tiles of tacked tongue.
Ravaging wild haired Madonna sluicing sin askew
The tetanus titan shoots into my unraveling True.

Above the forlorn Godiva
Resounds the seraphim's flue