Not even the Judo-thrill of your penis
Dissolves this sexual amnesia
Untied and tense in a scarf of dread,
Killed by the craving faces of women
As you exploited and
Roared on them.
How much more do you grant me?
Which of your serpents did I get
Or did I make them myself?
I want to assault them,
Just to predict a rage.
I won’t let you scream me.
Raw dirt Erodes on me
Unsaturated, like Garden worm skin
Isolated under Mangrove trees.
Sucking your violent sensations
Into my limp stomach,
Cranking the hoodlum into my emptiness.
What ferocity outweighs my Chimera mechanisms?
Is it that scream inside me
Ravished by cowardliness,
Like the print of Dead Sea Scrolls?
Is that scream a soul-span of chills
That paints Paris greens in Vienna?
The Soy of China’s lakes,
The Soy of it all-
Danish pastries, Russian dressing,
Arctic Autums sliding
Breast-down frozen slopes of lake?
A Milano carousel
Circulating catalystic blood for
A mangled world of lies.