i am parting my lips with a
poisonous
fruit

out comes
flagellant’s
juiced page

birds alight upon
sutures of a licked-thin night—
tree branch at sunrise.

if to incite love requires hate,
your strongest muscle is still a fist
in motion, without cease

lennon gazed upon the mound, forming an epiphany.
the beady brutes worked in perfect unison:
a communicative, coordinate artistry.

his foot reigned down, crushed and maimed.
while in his mind, the thought became:
*i am these ants as they are me as our pain is all the same.

1.

seeds of crimson, slightly sweet
alien pods of ruby meat
like exoskeletal teeth.

scores of crimson, holding in
like breath, its babes of sin.

little beetles; ****** tears.
one swarming conglomerate.

as if in fear, they huddle close
to await their fate in quiet fits.


2.

the
unfurling!scarlet!starfish!mothership!
sprawls out
fleshyfingers, fatwithfruit.

seedling children populate her innards
like a red-skinned race of juicy mutes.