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All Things Combusted

Contributed by RickRoss on Saturday, 5th November 2011 @ 11:05:20 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

I split.
I have nothing to give to the fascist depressions of my mornings.
Zilch in this body of disintegrations and traumas to give to the oppressings
I havent anything for the psychic muggings.
Instead I present blackjacks and dicks in every last face of every last school
that drools in its wake victims and fools and devastating insentience of straight

and those enduring sieges against the hells of their unknown self
their blasphemous diaspora of untold stories
and Them robust with ass sores for cathedra and ***** for crowns

! they the seraphs assassinate with hammer blasts !

They helped me instantly to isolation
like a kind hunter snapping a deers neck.
And into me still spills the memories of apples smashed on rocks
and undressed feet flapping
and eternal summer days of red flowers
and Dionysus erupting in congress of copper
and bleached white hairs against stomachs
and lust-fleet foxes
and mazes of wombs from which all things combusted.

I burn my black jack it was me too with those seraphs that whispered my disintegration
I was a immoral fixate on their figures a sexual spy
I was a different breed of hound for feeling alive.
In short I was homosexual and lied and our evils are intermingled.

Copyright © RickRoss ... [ 2011-11-05 23:05:20]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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