Friday, November 18, 2011

threeways at least in the sewers of philosophy

he's male, she says
so must be prurient
all night must have visions of women
fucking pigs being raped stripping whirling
opening themselves to the dead gynaecology
of dead males only knowing a dead love
dying themselves down in the arms
of that imagined dead goddess
who quacked through the bars
of their cots

without her, she says
he would die

yeah but

she says males need genetic modification by females
yeah but in everything you are
you been doing that for a million years

this is what you chose
this half-fledged warrior unsocialised and someways dead
yearning to come home
now so far away so unwelcome

.

.

No comments: