On the first day of summer,
In the Temple of a Thousand Buddhas,
You turned and said to me;
“Your smile is a blessing to my heart”
That was long ago, but I’m smiling still.
.
the sickly hours draw near I’ve been out on the prowl feasting with panthers and laying with the low life bleeds out from my promiscuous
regions my seed, the gift of our
benefactor was spilled on vulgar ground a menagerie of brightly polished fossils perched four and twenty deep on a blackened
bow each was perfectly honed to provide the keen edges a boy could
shred his soul on
there’s a laboratory in my mind where pornographic experimentations are
crudely coupled with shameful memories so I
make meat in wee small hours to feed the fire that burns in my loins ever the same incessant pounding of a
thousand heartbeats a tide of lovers float into memory people like us know what we’re doing people like us have rapacious hearts
no-one gets their jollies on the night shift
unless they’re sniffing boot polish
or drinking the windolene
there’s a lot of it about
some like to spank monkeys
while others drag the low end
trawling for the mantovani
but it’s sometimes hard to tell
cats from dogs in the virtual
and often a suspect package
is mistaken for exotic booty
in some sort of synthetic romance
only the lonely care to understand
.