God's Little Masochist.
Inviting the crop
With defiance flirtatious
Bitten lips
Are folded hands
And red welts
Your beads.
So perfectly on your knees
As the crop snaps
Ejaculated from Her soft nimbus
Brenschluss at the gates of heaven
A bomb in plummet
A fire-feathered cloudburst
Tear-choked howl, this
Charred body, spent
In sexual release
A weeping hulk
Of cold sweat and tears
Morning Star,
Take your place in line
Behind the rest of us
Outside the "Find Love/Success/Enlightenment"
Weekend Seminar Circus
Like the throngs
Of spun out and huddled
bombed out fixxers
At the methadone clinic.
Fucking Mortality.
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1 comment:
dominic, i love you.
please come visit over winter break, even when i see you and you mostly ignore me, i still find i miss you in the interim.
-gg
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