there's a  fire in this madhouse of Venus
where unattainable romance gives birth
to cunty darkness and pleading clawish fingers
to obsessions of strange mental constructs
something about blood and tears
birthing black ******* and vampires
with vermillion mouths shaped in circles
that gorge themselves on violent thrusting *****
and ***** resembling mushed faced pugs
just asking for it

a woman's eyes burn like cigarettes
and tongues snake into esophageal
swoon revivals of glorious deliverance
flashing souls flit like street lights
and flames of wraith hair
she begs to be strangled with a black chord
and kissed till her brain blurs fizz

she dances
wigwam wiggle and clutches
like a sliding oyster
licking my *******
**** ***** and ruby ***** 
gagging repeatedly onto the hilting root  
falling into submission
for her dark ******* god Faustian thing
a little doll with mythic eyes 
a ******* wraparound mouthy wigged ***** 
with a baloney-pony disco stick orifice

will you **** me with your **** sir
a dark hunger gnaws deep within
so bleed me merciless
like a gushing artery
make me red dead in love in bed
butter **** and properly spread
pound me like a hell ***** ****** 
in a burning five alarm 
emergency suicide ****
-
i corkscrew her 
into a writhing
murderous wreckage 
as she dissolves under me 
like a sugar cube in hot tea and blood
christened by a magic wand
that forces her round belly 
up and down like a toilet plunger

her ***** drools like runny yolks
a deep homework 
the shamanic decent 
an illusive weighing of the heart 
the sweet meat priestess 
who resuscitates abandoned legends
making my ***** click like castanets 
a Mr. Winkey party
spewing Icelandic yogurt
her teeth rattle
as her brains and one eyeball 
hang off my **** 
like pig trough slobber

her face smiles 
and vomits peaches

there's moon glitter
in your beautiful hair
my darling

God save the kink

i embrace the monsters of imagination
even the barbed wire of tortured images
through blizzards and blackouts
imprisoned in the skin 
stuck in a time space package
where all poems of truth 
are a heresy to a culture of gimmicks
-
descended 
into the inferno of matter
honeycombs of hell
where ignorance is the most dominant religion
unable to recover the pearl of immortality
we look into a mirror of our mind
staring back faceless
a portrait with no eyes 
i'm a cat that barks
pukes on  his mouse
and licks the blood in the cream
like a midnight movie in hell
where we die in installments
mortality being merely 
a vertical management administration
in a graveyard **** town replete 
with broken whiskey bottles 
and stained weathered paper cups
where the drunk sleep on newspapers
like a roof of bones over the dead
-

earth wakes like a blinking marble
worm cake
ravine of ravenous hunger
breathing bowl of fruit
and black hole cauldron
of spit and sediment
where life grows like debt

disembodied skyward souls
who's haloed ground
a funeral coif
of etched intaglio grim headstones
that remain arcane symbols
of refuse underworlds
sunken under black beds
shaped like centuries of tragedy
in moldering graves
and dusty trailer park archaeologies

cosmologies eclipse
open pleasures and sultry winds
that form charades of architype golden eyes
impregnating us with dreams
like animated tarot cards
while body-caged man-o-spheres
on apocalyptic mountain sides
crawl and claw in endless nights to thrive
with every breath and squalid gasp
                                *
we propel ourselves through this life
by sacrificing the present for the future
in arduous labors of discord
and glowering autopsies
of smoke & blood
until we remain
unable to live with ourselves

i vaguely remember
traveling disembodied
like a new sun
past empty hulled tenements
where the living dead
perform soap opera cameos
as sliding doors
open and shut
like switchblades
on withered clanking subways
of shuffling bones
all the way to Hades

time bruised and beaten
bedlam of age
we each fall forgotten
grey as pulping zombies
shuttering downwards
from primordial nuclides
of contagion and death

gossiping Doppelgangers
on tesseract winds
witnessed energized prodigies
teaching the dead to construct dreams
with drum stick rhythms
and flutes of savage craving
in meta whirls
that mobilize astral spitfires
faster than tachyons
in a forever extravagant next world
monster infinity

how do i know what i think
if i dont write it down

i cant stop talking crazy
                                                    
bad ideas are rooted in Neuro Pathogens
idea parasites'

**** worms of irrationality

i'm a mess underneath the surface causing me to suffer a mental complex which is under digested unarticulated expression

the universal dialogue of misunderstanding

post modernism is an idea pathology
                                            
okay, mental constructs and language dont transform reality                      

reason remains lost through the sneaky ****** language of white science intellectual terrorism

watch out what you say in a free society

epistemologies are numerological evidence,
a numerical network from a broad base of data
and are a work of cumulative evidence

i cant stop thinking about the way i think        
      
you need gesticular fortitude to free yourself from the tribe

i'm afraid to tell anyone how i really feel  

so many victims of politically correct grotesques
are collective Munchausen pathos

i'm my own victim but it's fault                                                    your
                                                                ­                          
in the Oppression Olympics of radical egalitarianism i'm a star

i'm so agreeable i hate me, thats why i'm better than you                            

Fascism is a
fanatical need for order, and or else

mass graves and chimpanzee politics

when your frustrated, its your obligation as a citizen to transform your feelings into an articulated argument

i hate you

militant lesbians attack male virtue while they dress like guys
                                                      
i'm sorry about the testosterone, bad ****!

we extract the logos from chaos
and hold it above into habitable order and an ideal

i have my Porsche, where's yours and no i'm not looking at
your ****, your ****, your ****                        

my truth is grounded in your frustration

i'm as tiny as a fake something 
in the middle of nowhere
on the edge of nothing
wing-like 
with brazen teeth for grinning bites 
and the knee of listening 
howling into a phone
telling of hunger for food and herb
in a dream of diagraming sleep

~~~

she has no respect for the weak
hating her vulnerability
shrunken living in a cardboard room
stiff and dry the size of the sky
ranting tears in braids of rain
a five o'clock shadow of begging meditations
until deaths' lips formed the shape of O 
shaping a tunnel rimed in late afternoon
telling me her body is but metaphor
for orbiting angels
a fashionable estate of limbs
in apple fruited curved headlands
and demitasse islands of past desire
floating in pink glimmering heavenly clouds
licking the blue
where the emptiness of life used to be

she shimmers rainbow tranquilizers 
packaged by twos 
in shinny tinfoil marvels
slick as icicles
for the perfect dose 
you can feel in your hand like braille 

at tongues touch 
it folds into dark warm nothing
showing her that death 
has it's own special charisma
like calico tattoos
or syncopating neon moons

deaths mouth opens like an opera singer 
and eats her eyes 
till these sunken alters liquidate
and breath ascends distant from the ache of want
in the knee of forgetting
red and wet
black as crows

pink buzz
listen to her splashing tongue
and my lip trilling licks
shivering liquid traffic at her delicatessen
opening wide for corned beef ****, mayonnaisy
black lipstick lips taste like Drambuie
and belch a garland of muttering burps
passed candy mint teeth and swirling lips

let the fireworks smoke the sky
as it billows and sprouts
from my rubbery ***** crystal dream
its open skin exhumed
breathing hard with a strained pulse
peering from my trousers zipper
like a pugnacious criminal
a kicking pony between our legs

before
a quick shower
i rinse off
this squeaky poodled up
dally-whacker
all wavy and bowed
like a curled pigtail

falling eye lids drop like venetian blinds
and accentuate a Chinese lantern
casting crimson light as blood linen
while a whipped cream parfait
poured out
bursting with love
at exactly
midnight in the afternoon

Pleasure is so close to ruinous waste
nakedness wrecks decency
degradation feeds the bonfire of hunger
and the wound of desire bleeds away within

leave nothing
but the bleeding edge

ruin me  
she said