- Non-Erotic Poetry
- 10.25.2018 Seasoning the Ritual
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We'll roll all night and listen to that music. Something that sets the caged animals free again. Pounce, sniff, and linger. Assess. The bear eats these lips and darted tongue. The snake dance against concrete rubs raw, bled, and new. Meet me in water where my tears and yellow have soaked your world to pruning. We're fish! Take those coyote teeth and pierce where blood flows down beaded against dirt and make mud. Grind me into flour with farm eggs and red pepper. Turn my blood into warm wine. Have a lick. My lungs into gold. I'm eating dirt and mushrooms in a pasture still and wide. I am blind boxed veal. Greens.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 3 years agoI am so hurt & feel so wronged! Life could have been so different. It sounds like you had a thousand times better drugs than we had in Tatum In the 70s, 80s, 90s, & the 21st century. I’m flabbergasted!!!
