- Erotic Poetry
- Obsession
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No cataclysms of the heart allowed
But those I cause
No ecstasies of love
But by my hand
No thrill of intermingling souls with anyone's
But mine
On dead Sunday nights
When television's done
Bruise the baby of your freedom
Smash its joyful face in
Kill it dead
And burn burn burn the body
In the garden
In the killing fire in the garden
Where the living scream and cry
Until consumed at last they die
I'll be the cage to hold your beast
Though you may scream
Kick bawl and shove
You have no right
To love another more than me
You have no right
To think you're free
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