deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dated, 1919
I felt the fingers of twilight opening the curtains as
my imagination took hold of my night dreams.
Sensing a shadow moving about, naked as last
night's filet mignon without its gravy. Pushing back
the memories of yesterday's infatuation with the
corpse that slept with open eyes, unbreathing but
seeing. Now in summer's pine, her hands lazing
about my demeanor. Craving such a vein of death's
tenderloins among the thorns of her genitalia.
Leaving me scaling my flesh intoxicating her folly as
my manhood wilts beneath my monsignor robe.
Dripping a séance with omens on her photograph,
dated 1919.
my imagination took hold of my night dreams.
Sensing a shadow moving about, naked as last
night's filet mignon without its gravy. Pushing back
the memories of yesterday's infatuation with the
corpse that slept with open eyes, unbreathing but
seeing. Now in summer's pine, her hands lazing
about my demeanor. Craving such a vein of death's
tenderloins among the thorns of her genitalia.
Leaving me scaling my flesh intoxicating her folly as
my manhood wilts beneath my monsignor robe.
Dripping a séance with omens on her photograph,
dated 1919.
Published 20th Aug 2023
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