poem, poetry, Uncategorized

venus and the sorcerer

i think you spitting on me
appeals to me because i’m
called venus but, sorely housed
in the body of misnomer none

desire, what follows after
desire, what follows after
spit is the globule
spit is the slow water of the living throat
spit is how i know you are here (were you conjured? what does that mean?)

sorcerer is searching
the mantra of venus:
i am only here to be truly helpful
i am only here to be truly
i am only here to be
i am only here
i am only
i am
i
venus
come from the other
housed in a word, misnomer of one

as you spit into my mouth
as my tongue receives you
as it falls onto
what follows after:
as your tongue hangs above me
as spit is the way of the cave

sorcerer is searching
the mantra of venus:
as it renounces itself out of love,
so we, out of love, should renounce it
for if we do not sacrifice it to love,
we sacrifice love to it

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poem, Uncategorized

what to cleave

i wanna figure out what’s worth keeping
right…do you know better now?
sometimes
mind if i sit?
not at all
are you too warm?
something like that

daddy’s poplar grove 
thickness made of lone
no man knows another road

what to cleave, what’s good and gone
what would the animal make of song

i feel like i’m fenced in
you wanted help?
yea
do you find you call out to him
without the usual appetite?

i don’t know, i might
it’s just he doesn’t want me bad
not the way you know
and isn’t that what good girls really
never think to ask for?

 

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Uncategorized

apomixis

it struck like something
kin to gore, staring at

the flagrant way
of the bud, angled
fertile at the sun

an expansive, selfish sense
so full, the pregnant vagrant
preening in the grass

with thick stalk coursed in veins
the labor it takes to pump out
in gust on indefinite plain

eager, and hard,
all things intimate desire
unborn and kicking
growing cramped in a coil
to become you

being in you makes
me more of a man

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