apocalyspe lover

apocalyspe lover
- The Miasma Set: Poem #3 -

hey jupiter, the crocodile’s on the sandbank
sunbathing, and the sky is bending concave
to my fingers, how’d ya feel about that-
how’d ya feel about that.

I saw you that day from the minaret
with your shield vert and stag-helmet,
you waved your gauntlet, and I smiled:
la dahlia en blanca, with bruises under
my nails.

turrets revealed all those courtesans in
fealty-corsets stealing knife-points
and needle port havens from
under us in silence,
in secret, how’d ya feel about that,
how’d ya feel about that.

and we as one in our little dance,
black as the liquorish sky abaft of the sun,
betwixt orion and the trojan horse,
sin and death, and explosion of color:
a mirage, una ilusión madura contra
la verdad.

hey jupiter, let me be your dulcinea
and pirouette around seven of your
circular aphonic moons: para deslumbra.
para ezperanza.


like the non-existent crane legs,
let’s tilt that windmill, apocalypse lover,
let’s tilt that windmill.