The fresh breeze of
pungent death fills
nostrils with the joy of
sweet green rivers
under blue-gray skies.
No longer portending death,
but making love to it.
-
The open fruit,
cracked wide to receive light,
ready to devour itself.
Methane migraine, doubled over
and over, ready to explode.
The dust of the earth –
The dirty semen of Salvation
-
We raise our coal towers,
sooting over the ivory of yesteryear.
Immortality and salvation sucked
inward with the forced orgasm
of toxic manitees.
The nutty hard-boiled protein,
another protrusion and intrusion
-
scraping of textured walls.
Space inside out, tearing flesh.
Infinite spills, red on white,
enduring the rape and
cannibal mystic of excess.
In 3-D. Revolutions of eternity
until another other side makes
flat the world – wonderful again.
