Saturday, June 18, 2005

sauced like a moan

Breading badly, stammer, no words
Imagine the aphid on a plant sap
Adlibs all the loosened points
I will make the deed slow
Every phrase unhurried
Sauced like a moan…
The vowel grinding a e i o u
Answers the knock at the door
Pie, pleasure, the sudden thing
Leisure, fruits, an alter of swamps
Man, mum, all endearment terms
Likened to known juice and butter
to shack the corn of it clothes
with the workmanship sculpted
The arrays of your pleasure point
The impressive display and collection
In the chalkboard `cunt-esy' of tongues
Dialect of meaning only I can assemble
I like the base-equal size to a bib
Thinking about charting your geography
Tongue cropping, teeth plotting the site plan
Uh! All my life is aerial bound
I feel the stomach getting jelly
With the agitation of unhurried hands
I feel the full endowed roundness
Unaccustomed to my hungry gaze
Could I bore through that brackish bowl?
Ceremony through the ritual of space
Could I chisel through the channels?
Through milk mashed creams and ethics
Can I go into the Cray spot now?
Can I take the cheese of the trap?
Pod the cocoa of its pleasure juice
Uh! Or can I put the cassava back
Into the alluvia of her soil
I could, but… No not now
I am committed to the slimy cleft
Not the crevice behind the brown hair
like an animal related to untangle
Expelling fertilizers without contact
Something of bliss than civic
Savoring the gift of my after play
Uh! I believe i can harvest you right

2 comments:

Scott said...

This one almost hurts to read. Very visual and bold. A very interestng post. THX

Scott

TIMMY said...

A VERY NICE WORK. KEEP IT UP, SKY IS THE LIMIT

TIMMY
WEST MIDLANDS
LONDON