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her seas beat, crooning, smoking
in the doorway; vestiges flooded,
men braver than i, a siren's call.
i am a skinny *****,
cradling my patent
leather love like
hemingway
did his
gun.
i, lover boy,
stand spayed,
shaven, a son of
a *****, in the bowels
of hell, clenching his razor
blade, thin as satan's tongue.
God is He whose
rot rashes His
***** heart.
learn not gently
what brimstone
scalds our
******* feet
trodden in hell.
o babylon:
a dog divine
welted back-
wards, its heel
ever front.
the hunter's machine
here whirs into the
pitch; i howl too.

— The End —