Tag Archives: bastard

gran tabú

17 Sunday Feb 2013

Posted by in Erotic, Lilith, Poetry, sonnet, video

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I knew you way back when you had owl feet
and dry breasts. Then you married that bastard

Adam and it all went to hell. Discreet
sex while you were married was fun. I heard

what they said about you. It’s like when they
go on about Yeshua; they’re clueless,
aren’t they? fucking clueless. You’re made from clay?
my ass. Only mud pies come from that mess.
Mud pies and goleems. Liliti, you flew
to the Red Sea to get away. You knew
they would never leave a howling taboo

alone. Gran tabú: like when you told me

about Adam, the pig, getting ready

to cum all over his “little wifey.”

* * *

dreams for a lesser delta

27 Friday Aug 2010

Posted by in Erotic, Poetry, sonnet

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And the microphone skips and someone keeps
bumping the turntables. These are fables
for a lesser delta and our Blues weeps
mud. Someone keeps bumping the turntables.
Soon we boy toys will be gone and then they’ll
notice you or me missing. Like scratchy
scratchy DJs or the tarted-up male
of the species. We are far too pretty
not to be worth the worry. There are clues
left in your open mouth, studs. It’s fitting
we should be swallowed. Fitting that our dreams
for a delta bleeds through, in our mouth Blues
bleeds mud and someone – bastard – keeps bumping
the turntables while the microphone screams.