caution: erotic content
that great consuming emptiness
how vague this mortal spree
never more those drugs I took
the floor unswept, the pee
in jars— employable, butt-lazy,
the alkaline, the acid
dashes, daring naked corridors
of shared communal thought
with splashy jars of urine, caught
in common thinking
like a harness, hinged, a hammock
in the room— the door
Miss used, unsatisfied;
never more precautions balked;
the perpetual calm I talked
-the simple Is. No Was
nor When—a heap of Why
to come, of course, it came,
synthetically,
with later implications of a thought
made happen by action; the impulse
submerged, gargled, lit up,
drank on, continued merge,
talk about an urge to piss
sitting, stretch my anus, shitting
days-old meat, the ghastly
shattered hollow underneath,
the Bilge pumping everything
Dissatisfaction clumps
around this satisfaction stump
of Let it Be, and it was freeing,
something quite spontaneous,
like a fart, a sneeze,
the bright spores, ah choo!
the microscopic stars —
are there for comfort, to minimise
the maceration, neutralise
the squashed & claustrophobic
sense of being all in one. Infinity!
the fractions! the unending Being: All
There Is! Now
was Won, and Own,
never morte, never more
than down, a gain, the loss,
a butt-taste, the wine,
her perfume, hooters
green and purply, in surprise
& fright the sunlight
of the curtains thrown open.
the emptiness!
the essence of…never more
than meat, mortal-deep,
the elemental coil,
knives, oil
spots, the spiral
red & hot,
the seed-pop,
the cheap weed,
the chick who wants
yr wee, gone
to get a Panadol,
on purpose
took your charger
cable
in a common practise
of pretend mistake because
hers was perforated
at the core, too committed
to not remain a yanker
too annoyed with
unrelenting one
direction of the tide
of tech to thank her
treat it
with respect. left her
perfume
in the t-shirt
green tea & linden
leaves by Arden, went off
in your smallest
understandings
soaked at the gusset
with instructions
not to call
at certain times
get extra men,
beach towels,
chewing gum, goggles
if she’s that
keen, an old-school
bukkake in a blow-up
paddling
pool.
I agree with the above comment – the caution is excellently placed marketing and the poem to follow is sensational and venereal. This is the kind of poem that could do with being widely read.
Cheers Sommer. The whole poem, a few more pages yet, gets dirtier and graphic in a few places so caution maybe necessary for some readers
when i see “caution erotic content” im anything but cautious! this is one of the best poems i’ve read in a while, & i think you need to submit this somewhere. if they don’t accept it, then the fault’s their’s, not yours.
Thank you Mark! Again a hasty post but needed to exit my headspace