I have always had an uneasy longing to be
Godless in a world ful of Devils,

as I walk blindly down an unfamiliar road, I force my keys between my fingers,

I hear the sound of glasses breaking,
the aftershock of a fist making
contact with a jaw

someone is following me and,
despite myself, I pray

later, when I wake from the haze
of a Rohypnal dream

catch sight of my siren red bra
on a hostile floor

inhabiting a body that aches,
beating to the rhythm of a clam -
like heart

head spinning, a brain that has been
suddenly stunted,

I wonder how I could have turned
to God?

To have turned my back
on the Devils, to be caught
unawares

is this my punishment for a fickle faith?

the boy who cried wolf,
eventually burning beneath the sun

why do my legs shake with rage
at the thought of ever

praying?

Mushrooms talk to me when I lay in my back yard. Ducks stop by to say hello. I often forget some of my clothes when I go out to drink. My last girlfriend said I was too out there. So I wander between what is loosely defined as reality and the world that is normal to me. I really don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to live like me. So I step across societies line and have a little too much fun. Walking on the dark side of life keeps things interesting, give it a try sometime.

I conjure you,
out of yellowed newspapers
and matches.

I come to recognise the scent of you, through which you untie
the core of me

I swallow you down
as the hoards devour religions.

People banging on the doors of churches.

Swallowed up in scripture.

I wanted to see God
in the silver blades between your teeth.

To cut out your Adam's apple and place it between my lips.

Consuming your masculinity with a single, careless kiss.

Anatomy's foundations rocking like an antique chair.
Stripped wood that still sings of trees, chopped down in their prime.

This destruction of youth that should sicken me, thrills me to the bone.

Each blade of gentle green grass grows in the sunlight and I pick each daisy
as carefully as I pick my men.

Young men that touch silk sheets, glistening with sweat. I lick the knife, metal caressing metal, blood on
steal.

I am ready to receive him.

The Moon watches over me as
I cross the timeless sea
of dreams.

In narrow shafts of silver light
that lay bruises on the gentle night
I sight the ship to carry me in time to
cross that timeless sea.

My heart
has cracked open
like the most
fragile of
elusive
eggs
viscous fluid
drips d
            own
upon the plate
filled with
fissures,
spidercracks that
threat to
quake into
seismic
         measures
and eventually
piece off into
oblivion
and only when
I can finally
unfold myself
from these
underwater
embryonic bends
fetal stretches
and folds
that never end
only then my arms
reach out
into the night
searching
and,
in tiniest of beams,
in one fell stroke
of midnight kismet
I find you
around me
in colored chromium
wrapping me up
headstrong,
filling my
wounded sutures
with
     liquid
gold