i masturbate on tuesdays

my poems are sucked out

by queer gravity. blowing

sands of filthy vocabulary

that bust a load in my brain.

they drip from the interior

of my american lips.

patriotic ramblings of a

cock and balls. i swallow

my own well used verse.

inside trees, higher than

any sky, i spit a sonnet

of sailors and traitors.

i sleep between a queen’s

chubby thighs. ejaculate

delinquent verse on expecting

eyes. take poetic license to eat

flesh from a rose blossom.

i digress into a white pipe

criminal dancing on a

badger’s tongue. i leave

every syllable wet. my

buffs swallow me

whole. my adversaries

eat my fuck.

before joan

i want people to say
“i didn’t know he was still alive.”
those in the irish capital with
the biggest god damn shamrock
in the world. maybe find
me dead in some queens bed
naturally. “didn’t know he was
queer,” “his cock was always
hard” some whisper should be
his epithet. fucked his boy and
his girl friends in the super
market freezer. he was a cool
cat. smoked cigarettes when
they cost a quarter a pack.
was drunk in alleys by fourteen.
too young to drive, got fucked
in a back seat at the drive-in
theater. don’t remember
the movie, the car, or her
name. everything was fast.
her pussy was in demand.
she liked it more than the boys.
got high with revolutionaries.
never stopped loving those
i loved. i day dream of their
smell and flavor still. reborn
a handful of times, a gypsy,
a pirate, and a vagabond.
worshiped men of peace. i hear
their names now and then. i say
to myself i didn’t know they
were still alive.

poetic weekend

guys give better head
than girls, but the effort
is appreciated. queer
poets are the best. their
poems ejaculating words.
there’s the concealed
poet wrangling a
virgin’s dream on a
twilight train. a gentleman
poet writes with classic
germs. i trust poets
to be fags of mercy.
spoken word poets
tickle my stones. lalli
is a sweet memory.
middle fingers inspire
my lubricated verse.
i lick the nipples of every
poet. taste their tongues.
of rhyme. i kiss all cock
sucking poets. a voyeur
of lassie poetics. god
made cock haikus.
i love to tea bag,
lick away sweat off a savory ass .
all juices from the heart.
we join in a limerick
gangbang. no one’s
name is their own.
circumcised sam and
senile joe blow. free
verse is buck naked.
i deep throat harmony.
have intercourse with
cadence. plagiarize
a ballad with balls.
castrated girls write
nursery rhymes flowing
from day old breasts.
my ditty is fresh meat.
ode to a harvest of seed
that seeps from my lips.
a south american jingle
of semen and fur i
whistle. thank you
jesus for tops, bottoms,
and morning wood.
i have pissed away
many a rife. jacked off
a masterpiece. tripped out
on double penetration
trilogies. paint my face
ivory. kiss me in a
two fisted way. fuck
me free like sunday.

call myself a poet

a bull-headed neddy
is my ornery poem.
harmony accentuates
my queerness. my
interior spirit of
truth drips juices
of forbidden fruit.
my bloody lips
cannot be tied.
i masturbate the
heart sutra. i am
an instrument of
a glorified mortal.
degraded poetry.
mercy comes as
a desert monsoon.
i molest boundaries.
lines of demarcation
are nullified. i suck
marrow from the bone.
shrouded in his timber
i carve my initials. my
contention is not of
self slaughter or
massacre. the break
of day kisses the
twilight. my rhyme
dies and is retrieved
a thousand times.
i am a sweet and
sour poet with balls.

cremate our love

he is the glorified martyr
with a lightning bolt tongue.
he saturates me in drool
quenching my consecrated
thirst. i offer tobacco
and tea. his fingers curse
my dime sized nipples,
my hands are bound in
prayer. everything is
sanctified. he caresses
the genius from my cock
and shares my seed.
he cools the hell from
my spirit. enlightens the
exposure of my scars
carved in my flesh. in
radiant light he feasts
on me. swallowing
everything from the well.
he breeds me bare.
our marriage is raw.
organic produce flowing
between us. our lips
smile like the sparrows.
we believe our ashes
left from a pious fire,
will still desire to fuck.

it’s a good day

i stared myself down.
sometimes it’s like that.
cream of the crop.
a pine tree dying
high on a hill
or in a valley low.
i am a believer in
religious medication.
heaven is the horizon
a city block away.
i walk there sometimes
but get distracted.
blessed by blooms
left by tempest rain.
i practice my intentions.
sorry for what i didn’t do.
my dogs run free,
my fortune is my love.
all inside my evil eye.

a poem to a poet

sometimes i am poetry.
a dandelion mocking the
manzanita. consecrated
apathy for the picture perfect
flesh. a sparrow craving
grace beyond the transgressions
of wings. i am a poem
of cotton and of corruption,
a crucifixion of unblemished
demons. compensation
for my nakedness. a
queerness of harmony.
a verse coordinated to
echoes of empty wells.
sirens draw one to their
lewdness. i am the caramelized
cream of the lamb. a poem
lingering between the
hands and the lips. simple to
the beggar, irritating
to the connoisseur.
i am a poem fading
away. i am a circumcised
poet of words.

my ginsberg sham

i never argue with a
sunrise. i sway to
barbaric waltzes. my
heart is revolution.
queer from inside
out. my duty
crippled by social
graces of luxury.
my sophistication
is born in austerity.
each breath unbinds
my confinement. my
phobia is my utopia.
i chant red-blooded
prayers for my coy.
i climb cotton trees.
invade the aroma
of a catechism that
feeds street walkers
pocket change. my
heart is revolution.
regulation of my
copulation. my illicit
kiss is contraband.
brought to light i
fancy the taboo
frenzy of the cock.
liberated from
superstitious genius
i savor its flavor.
ingest an empty mind
as gratuity. i am a
rhapsodist rhymer.
crooning songs
without verse. my
heart is revolution.

i was a catholic whore

with a blistered heart,
my nobility fed on
the body and blood.
queen mary danced on
bones of dead or dying.
my lips parched by
my depleted well.
as a compliment,
st. blaise blessed
my tempered throat.
his seed trickled
across my tongue.
i swallowed divinity.
a born again queer
for flesh and cock.
a desired collision
with the naked man.
a fag of forgiveness.
taming hardons of
ecstasy and earth.
i control ejaculations
of simple prayers.
a pretty penny buys
lips upon my ass.
i understand this
blessing of my youth.
kindness of strangers.
leaving epithets at
my lubricated tomb.
i jack off to these
god damned memories.

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