a poem for lust

amorously toying with her skirt
she is mightier than any army
that ever followed armoured elephants
into valiant carnage

penetration of her carnation
is to be restored to pristine Eden
to be a mountain stream
becoming the long-sought sea...
stretched within her body's fire
manhood is revalidated.
in her folds,
life's manifold pettinesses
are purged away
to the lush lilt of her purrs

of course,
as with all powerful medicine,
there is danger of addiction...
to commit barbaric sin
in token of tantric passion,
or to forget the human face
of the lust object in black lace

at its worst
tis an undisciplined cancer of the human spirit:
liquor for the "incestuous Dane"
a needle to the addict vein
a child out to the freezing rain
bony miser of orgasmic gain

at its best
tis the copulatory cord
that holds tight faithful, loving accord,
the nightly inspiration of wise Solommon
and nation-bestriding Alexander
who upon the loss of "Greek" Hephaistion
dared not speak the name of love nor life
but dying left his empire to fragmentary strife

amorously toying with her skirt
she is mightier than any army
that ever followed armoured elephants
into valiant carnage...
she is the modern spirit
long the shameful hidden heart of kingdoms,
she's now released to walk the boulevards
naked in all but name,
taking up offices on the upper floors
not just seducing power
but opening its guarded doors...
in woman and other sexes
she's making the choices now
downgrading the marriage vow
for drag stockings or first-date penetration....
raising gray eye-brows, sophisticated elation,
and certain rates of disease.
Such is the ancient and modern state
of amorous glances and Cupid's release