tagErotic PoetrySeptember



September (remember?) Sucks

Heavy rains have washed away your
brightly chalked anti-capitalism message
from the sidewalk below
Bosses win
just in time for Labor Day
All that’s left is bad poetry
boring radio bickering workers
and my cloudy hand
self caressing
stiff dark oily images

You leave better than most
more abruptly and completely
I give it up in my
naked room
one more time
No goodbyes
just make it harder
and easier to come
back to your mouth

“Sir, can I speak?”

My mind devours your flesh
rippling dripping
shut-off from my hunger

In Kentucky
I wonder if you have
a poet who’s
afraid of our
purple headed beast
puppeting platitudes
while wanting
to tear the unholy
fuck from your womb

I am embarrassed
by my
He who hesitates is
doomed to another
fall ing fantasy
wearing black stockings
and a lacy black bra pushing
your tits up to your bubbling
babbling chin
mocking me
toppled by the bottom
who bolted 3,000 miles beyond
the tip of my weeping
obedient cock

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