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clandestine



we meet in the underground
it’s the only safe place
we come from separate worlds
where perhaps a black sun freezes the earth

our lurid love-notes, her sex fantasies & my own,
are missives designed to vindicate our souls of
sordid desires. she claims a primal affection for
the poet, but it is most certainly aimed at these
poems that erupt from me like volcanic ash.

these poems…

(   you reach into your gut, extract the shrapnel,
carve it brazenly into poetry. or the clone of
poetry, the distorted reflection.
    you toss it with cautious charm into the
outreaches of cyberspace, to net the reactions
of those wayfarers who happen upon it. hoping
someone will offer a healing remark. but who
can heal you?)

when she can no longer bear the threat of my love,
she retreats to the stygian shadows.  where angels hide.

she became all of my erotic poems.
& she is my love poem…


Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
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