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| photo by Hans Bellmer © |
she said she found a way inside the outside
there was nary a night not seeded
where we weren't spent as needed
bleeding for our roadside attractive
she almost dared me to declare
that I wanted to enslave
her little mechanical things...
idolatries are toiletries and poetry
every motion whirs gigs clanks
grease the sun she says
with blood and ritualized soul
in groves of trees please yourself
be hallowed named
vibrant womb fantasies
changeling radio playing
slow earthy jazz and...
I know she wants to fuck again
it was this meniscus ripe in her eyes
they are saying, painting the poem
just ain't gonna pay heed to tides today
the ferry ride is a journey tow slow start to go
what we want, they say, is destination free
an electric faceless release
an orgasm where all my pieces can smell
your infinity ever grasping to feel me too...
EJR ©
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