Petals of lust. Stamens of dreams. Nightmare
upon horseback. My heart was ripped open;
moonlight in the dust, trampled without prayer,
without mercy. Mustachioed horseman,
blood-red fez, ghost. You planted the horror,
roots like ass’ legs; you have death-head lilies
in place of eyes. The was once a flower
that I loved, for there is no smut or sleaze
when it comes to Nature. No shame. No sin.
That’s Man’s domain. I don’t want a trampled
flower or a dream that promises lust
but can never deliver. Horror-man,
you rise, with your broken tusk you impaled
my curse, you’ll spawn only decay and rust.