- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Leech
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the leech, he latched onto me again
today. his eyes boring, drilling,
demanding to know. wish he never
found me again, but he did and he
wants my blood, he wants me to do
another magick trick, and he’ll stalk
for another brain cell, another book
from my collection, he’ll never return
it, and I’m going to use my lighter this
time. burn the Prozac laden slime,
hell, dump rocket fuel down my arm,
he’s the leech that sucked Nietzsche to
a husk, god must be dead if such a
creature exists! he’s the leech who
forced Socrates to avoid debauchery
and his questions in the city square!
don’t ask don’t tell! the uncomfortable
feeling, staring, a gaze like the void
to make the world lock up every bipolar
freak in the medical charts.
