raise the camp fire,
blankets spread on
the ground,
singing dead and door
tunes,
sex chorus behind
rolling orange orb
waiting for the sherbet

raise the camp fire,
blankets spread on
the ground,
singing dead and door
tunes,
sex chorus behind
rolling orange orb
waiting for the sherbet
Wheatfields
she hitched her
shorts the cleft
appeared
and in that moment
all tides surged
today had become
brighter.
Ukraine
Painting, Oil on Canvas
Size: 25 W x 35 H x 1.4 D cm
standing naked in the kitchen
talking on long cable
green wall phone
handset greasy
from pan fried bacon
I needed you
as we spoke
long distance
bare feet paced
on tactile floor
your voice oozed
sweet through receiver
I could see you
imagine you
black neglige
auburn hair
remaining flaccid
slapped to my thighs
as I knew
his cigarette tasting
tongue would be
caressing your neck
hands massaging
needy breasts
you will come home
shower fresh panties
and we would
cradle ourselves in love
on the couch
Judy lay silicone silent
under blanket
her submissiveness unconditional
lubricant with sleeve
my cream cockroaches
flow without conception
inception or growth
they crawl in that
cavity I adorned
colored with marker pens
to realise my own
lost to the dusk imagination
she will not play it down
as I whisper
she will listen
without utterances of condemnation
stroke her face
expression of a blonde bored
I need animatronic
never real
real is a prospect in terror
Judy is subjected
to all my pain
isolation and grief
and will never
need a coffin
morning came
a turbid blue
Afreya awoke
stretching into her morning
wash away the sleep
soft gown falls
naked supple
moves into the garden
emerging from the still
green shrubbery
the ungrich
beaked and blind
with anal spewed eggs
that Afreya would sing to
her voice, her touch
broke soft shell
baby ungrich
fragile wet flesh
scooped and offered
Afreya took each one
devouring them
soft bony morsel
tissue swallowed
belly and breasts
began to swell
eager baby grew
her body tremors
with each and every
bite
enjoying what mother ate
Afreya smiled
her own offspring
would come
to nurture on her red milk
the world would
become theirs
as Afreya collapsed
withering to a husk
she had done
what her birth had intended
repeat the process
and die again
in that way
Not my usual kind of work, but felt compelled looking at Michael Hutters paintings, that have defining and disturbing depth of beauty
my balls killed a fly
it’s wings shower damp
lost momentum and flight
testicular seismic shift
wrecking ball swing
smacked to the floor
whereupon in a swirl
of foam and grime
was lost to the plug hole
unmourned
there is a dirt road thunder
away from city limits
dust and grits
and over burnt coffee
crows feet eyes
and indistinct touch
nothing cellphone can resolve
jukebox clicks to vinyl
see her in the kitchen
with a smile
I will eat her pie
like pressed garlic creamy crushed husk blown away, i held her forgetting the argument, forgiveness and playing with that blonde hair thinking of …
Lean against the letting go by Christopher Lawrence