- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Gentle Tear
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It lingers on the face, slowly sliding,
Lasting for a moment to show spoiled
And motionless compassion gliding.
Kindhearted psyches and cores are ripped, boiled
To masses of unconcerned fireless meat,
As you watch the little pearl slip down, roiled.
Limpid notes run along the staff, aged beats
Fall silently as the tune rushes out,
Moaned breaths and tickled sighs of devout heat.
Still as death, it sits on the cherry pout.
Perfectly motionless, perfectly behaved.
It dares not move from its piddle spout.
That slow gentle tear which every man craves
Desires not simple or true, but solid,
Craving compassion and the stark depraved.
The strongest essence can become squalid.
Fond spirits and mortals become stolid.
