drugs, crayon-blonde (Absinthian Dreams Part One of Two)
2-11-06
I.
This is the ecstatic destruction
of drugs, crayon blond
flashing like capitalist hatred.
II.
Tomorrow, I’ll smoke you to bed
I’ll fuck you and rob you of innocence,
I’ll bomb your dreams to formulaic ash.
III.
ecstasy entwined
a knife of invulnerable yester-eves
binds us to the smell of incense
in lands trodden by lice.
Here, we’ll become wise,
stare smack-dab into our skew
and grin like God,
pornographically-stoned.
IV.
In the heat, my dick expanded, crazy-glue
my inspiration peaks at muscle contractions
of the perverted Korean variety,
streaming to me from Korean VHS tapes from decades askew.
V.
In a decade, peace is my ally, and I
I’ve seen vaginal calligraphy, God is my ally
and I’m smudged with incredible images
from my mother, television.
Help me in this slow vein
massages or kisses or
fuscia Rembrandt pasts, haunting
with moments to spare, call it
inseparably-queer,
lightning-storm liltings,
I find it still here.
Demons, I’ll show you the Buddha’s wrath
through neglect.
I know a guy named
Zany Plebe, KarmaDread BrianBrownBear Tams, but
he’s a nihilist, so fuck that rant,
I’m going to bed to embrace the Buddha’s bosom
in absinthian dreams, m’love.
