and debasement and

25 Sunday Aug 2013

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and debasement
and acid were running
folly she yearned to
be their mother fed
elixirs wandering
in dark alleys
looking for the sons
of trouble twins

bang-up globs blue as acid

28 Friday May 2010

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acid, blue, sonnet, verved

Blow out, you cocks, over the ill unchaste.

All fire can quench. You get what you deserved.

Bottled, glints in raw indigo liquor.

Let it spurt now, slap silly with lurid

pulsing spray. Bang-up globs blue as acid.

Irksome forms blurring to booted vapor.

Everything coming apart. Verved. Verved. Verved.

I blur. Apart. I cum. As in lay waste.

As in bits. Nothing is soften’d by love

only those crappy Troubadours and their

shitty ideas on love. Gimme foxglove.

I love poison bottled. One box’d nightmare

orgasm. Proof of what we shouldn’t wish

for, fire quench’d, and all damp flesh must perish.