Ozymandias
The talking phocomelus
In the deaf mute house
No way to sign or scream
Above the silence.

Ozymandias
Pushed like a stone
From Cronos's belly
Longs for a mother
- But hates all women.

And yet the seraphs come
Drawn by the lure
Of a light in the hamlet
Or the lantern
- Of a cornish wrecker.

The smart ones
Water the glyphs
On the Obelisk
But nothing grows
From stone

Ozymandias
Hollow as a drum
Fills me with his cum
And for one moment
As he moves above me
For one moment
I think he is my captive
And then the moment's done.