the dirty colours of her kiss have just throttled
my seeing blood, her heart’s chatter
riveted a weeping skyscraper
in me
i bite on the eyes’ brittle crust
(only feeling the belly’s merry thrust
boost my huge passion like a business
and the Y her legs panting as they press
proffers its omelet of fluffy lust)
at six exactly
the queen tore
two slits in her cheeks. A brain
peered at the dawn.
She got up
with a gashing yellow yawn
and tottered to a glass bumping things.
She picked wearily something from the floor.
Her hair was mussed, and she coughed while
tying strings
(e.e. cummings)
I live inside myself, I am
pushing through-
Do you think I cry at night?
I am shrieking with delight,
feverish & high, biting eyes and twitching mouth.
Darling, I crave crystal and fire,
hot-blooded desire,enchantment.
Activate the sensory depth and
the fervent fields of the imagination.
I pledge nonallegiance to the smirks of quite nearly retarded squares; and to all the fascists, for what it’s worth, this nation, at arms, with peaceloveandfreedom for none.
How to sing out the sequence of dreams drawn out, played out on my eyelids? Racing cars made of brocolli falling from trees. This is a fruit of a song- tang on your wet lips. Now, tug my insanity cord. Go ahead, do it.
