only the cursed doubt the thickness of their bloodline, whilst the revered whisper behind broken backs with blazing clarity all the mistaken parables of so-called Paradise, now doused with heated veins, encased with worn pelts and high-waters, ravaged by the caustic winds of honey and rage, the doubters finger their veins for a pulse, as those with high-regard frolic aimlessly among the crimson tides of love and hope, mournfully passing by the downhearted.
From the gallows I emerge dwarfed by fading grace, pawing at the earth's cruel conscience, unwilling, at first, to counter the swarming wasps viciously sucking at my fragile dome, needling my eyes with venomous stout, eager to brake from the chains of indulgence, I soon turn on the wasp and pin it's chocking greed to a bloody cross stained with sin, draining the heathen of its flaming footprints as it sinks deep into the oiled earth, wingless and diseased.
Shoeless, maybe, with only cotton in his pockets, a rowdy toenail hanging awkwardly from out of a sandal once worn by his late uncle, he slides headlong into the tide as dusk fades in slants across his bookish ass, now damp with sand from the Atlantis breakers.
You study his determined grin as he mounts his sled and gasps for fresh breath, pounding at the current, his mouth washed with salt, his bulbous nose thrashed in the cutting sea, as you wait and watch curling your toes into the sand, ...
My face is full of your cosmic debris, cemented deep into the fabric of my being you embrace and shock the masses with covert power and wonder, with crushing prowess, with resilience to myth or wealth.
Silently, you dictate my disposition, mining your way into my consciousnesses, deepening the well of endearment while strengthening the will of all created here and beyond.
The flowing gown of our barren past lays in ruin beneath a broken shell of skin and bone, evading all love, will, hope, desire -- the crux of our faded glory -- for I claim you only to lose you, and love you only to watch you burn as my spine rips from gilded cage and blackheads burst across my squandered knees, crying, "Never again! Never!"
I don't ignore you, I fear you. You want to call it ego? Go for it. Want to say I'm jammed up and stuck on my own jive? Go ahead, sister. call me a curse call me a fink call me beggar call me a twink. Let it rip, let it roar, let you words beat me for what I came for. You! You! You! I came for you, you dagger loving demon. you callous minks of wonder. you delicious morsel of cocoa. I'm inflamed with jealousy I'll tongue your toes I'll eat out the cheese because never and not, I...
Monday arrives with a hammers touch, ready to scorch this fair earth in which I wallow on this dewy humid morn. My mouth is dry as a litter box and equally foul as I wash the night from my tongue and gums and fall headlong into the shower as the water boils at my awkward frame. Unwilling to bend towards the light, I mop, wash and dab at my pits and cracks as I finger my memories for pleasure and bark at the black thoughts crowning my mood with a rack of poisonous thorns. While every shallow echo of the weekend comes roaring back...
You cooked me well, good sir, with fragments of fire born from lust. Twisted and torpedoed throughout my loins, the crushing sense of wonder fails to wane even on the most deserted of nights.
When hollowed sounds of skipping toads break the silent grip of shuttered night, and when the gallops cease to kick at the token-eyed sparrow twisting about my latest plight, till then I confess my allegiance to each brilliant sky, dawn or midnight.