massacre of the innocents

my pistol,

points

to the sky,

i ride,

my happy

horse.

i’m no

billy

the kid,

or a moron,

or naïve.

high,

in my

saddle,

i sit,

a cowboy,

just the same.

my spurs,

mark the

flesh,

my pony,

the galloping

poet.

i’m a sailor,

seeking

pleasure,

waiting,

on my ship

to dock.

so i

may leave

this shore,

and float,

with the

naked sea.

free,

from the

mesh of nets,

in erotic

waves,

of words.

the testimony,

of this

union,

is a native,

of illegal

skin.

he poisoned

me,

with arrows,

easier

than isis,

ever could.

i will

dance,

on his

spear,

as it

pierces,

from behind.

i’ll be

the delinquent

stranger,

to old,

to prove

my virtue.

sucking,

menthol

smokes,

and raped,

by hairy

rhyme.

born,

to the

world,

an innocent,

till heaven,

and hell,

hit my

head.

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