Arse’s trickster; Lather maker; Rude root.
You say cocks are symbols of devotion,
godhood, rebirth; like you’re the first to put
the “erection” back in resurrection.
Knacker bone; Billy-me-nag; Love’s horsewhip.
First strip away myths, all the begetting,
its use as a weapon, male ego; strip
it bare and what’s there? 8-inches … pulsing.
Leather stretcher; Jockey’s pride; Bastard’s freak.
Some days I can say, “Brother, your beauty
haunts me.” Give me those days without bullshit
crafted to glory in this queer physique —
days where I can leave your face soaked, splotchy,
cum-streaked, where you hold out your palm and spit.