This is a terrifying tale as told by Ebeneezer Sweetlove, my late cousin*

I remember how I met Edwina all those years ago: and there was none of that "eyes connecting across a crowded room" crap. Well, not in a romantic sense - it was just pure lust. I suddenly realised this woman was staring at me with undisguised desire from the other side of a cocktail party at some boring conference at the five-star Grand Hotel. I was ***** as buggery as my latest girl friend had, just the previous week, committed suicide by jumping to a hideous death off scenic Beachy Head, so I returned the ****'s look with a lethally ****** stare of my own and then licked my lips as vulgarly as possible, indicating I was simply barking for a hot oral session, no holes barred.

The woman I was to know all too briefly as Edwina took the hint and came over and we talked as though we'd known each other all our lives; but even someone as suave as I was a little surprised when she groped me quite openly and shoved her tongue into my earhole, dribbling hotly down my cheek. And then she seemed to go all shy and little girl-like until I sophisticatedly suggested we go out for dinner and then back to my penthouse suite for a night of mind-blowing *******. I have to say I was embarrassed when the head waiter in the little bistro I selected complained when she took off her knickers and gave them to me for a refreshing sniff.

The *** was amazing - Edwina was like a beast on heat, screaming like a banshee while we ****** each other's brains out. Yet, in between *******, she was as gentle and charming as a little ***** cat. Six times I gave her my hot ***** that night: once in her mouth, then four times in the usual place, finishing off with one up her rear end. I was more or less totally drained of my love juices and in need of a good long kip before lunch.

But, tragedy struck: well before the dawn's early, she woke me and whispered she had to go as she had to get home before her husband got back after his night shift from down the sewers - he was apparently in charge of the entire East Sussex sewage system and liked to have an hour long shower every morning to get the stench of ***** off him.

I begged her to stay, saying I would happily pay for a divorce so I could have her with me for always. I even offered to have a contract put out on her sewer rat of a hubby, mentioning that my brother-in-law, Kosmo, was big in the Albanian mafia and owed me a favour. But she said no, I could ******* with my pleas. As dawn grew nearer I could see her becoming ever more frantic to leave and it was only then I realised the truth, having at last deciphered the real meaning of her blood-stained and scabby third ****** and the scarlet 666 tattoo on her luscious **** cheek.

Yes, Edwina was a ***-demon from deepest Hell and thus I was left with only one course of action. Ever so reluctantly, I bravely reached for the sacred wooden stake and mallet that I had carried round in my Dolce & Gabbana crocodile suitcase for so many years just in case of such an eventuality. Sadly I drove the stake into her beautiful ***** with a mighty blow and, instead of the blood which might have been reasonably expected, only a stream of warm **** poured out. Before my very eyes, her corpse disintegrated into a pile of odorous dust. Truly was Edwina a daughter of darkness.

As you may imagine, I had to give the chambermaid quite a hefty gratuity in order to get her to cleanse my room and to bin the evidence, but so grateful was she for the honorarium that she agreed to share my bed the very next night, knowing she would be likely to receive an immense tip of quite another category.

Our earth is turning from green to gray,
Just because it can't say,
"Stop vulgarly harming me
Or you will soon see
Barren wastelands and dried seas."
Nature's beauty is fast eroding,
'Cause we are still enjoying.
Wise humans, don't you see,
We'll soon be left without a tree.
Be a little eco-friendly,
And treat nature more gently.

spinning colours.
flashing lights.
pounding music.
rooms too bright.

tucked away amidst the dawn,
he took a drag on Mary Jane,
coating her in liquor rain,
as he thought of thought of lustful times forgone.

he sat the pill right on his tongue,
and watched it melt away.
he closed his eyes and swallowed vulgarly,
for there was no time to be a saint this day.

he hid within an acid storm.
and his promises were holy,
when he watched the load drip down slowly.
for the psychedelic pleasure held him warm.

In a lit parlor you recite pain

Anecdote

She went missing, babe split in the night

I’m placid and have mastered jealousy

this time,

I know a friend best when I can face them leg splayed.



But that old ghost howls,



Old ghost

Old shame

Old photos alone.

I had a unibrow in one and my shirt was too big

but I thought it was stylish

And I thought I could be a model.



Whatever happened to that photo?

Where do old memories go when you toss them out

with the trash?

I always thought the garbage man must have a

fat photo album.

I guess I should be more careful

I guess I should learn to let go



I’m walking with my head held high

My hair twin serpents on my breast

And I stumble over a meaty stump-

It’s alive with larva and its eyes are ripe

And its tongue hangs out of its maw vulgarly

It laps at my ankle

“Remember me? Remember me?”

CAN’T YOU STAY DEAD

I hear myself shouting from somewhere totally vulnerable and

Why did I ever let you touch me?



Thanks so much-

there is much to remind yourself
of other's dazed concepts
like coming to terms
with your own madness;

The Smiths
    and this cigarette
reading Life Alone
     by R. de Ungria smashing
my head blood sprawling
   across the page
blasting in my ear a fecund dark.

what am i to do

  with a hand,
           the spindrift by the sea
  blowing against the windows,
     with a thigh,
   this palpable quietude

all mornings arrive
     with a hatful of shadows
vulgarly obtrusive
    
with the night,
        a den of thieves.

     Caligula rearing the ******
to Nero, and I to myself
     in front of the mirror
still
       clawed by the same
beast maimed
     behind the bush.

Do you see me first thing in the morning
when you wake up and your eyelids
are heavy with sleep?
Do you taste me in your coffee
when you try to chase away
your dreams?
Do I itch in your palms,
in your arms,
on your lips?
Do you feel that I'm
absent when you go back
to sleep?
When you feel like crying,
do you feel the ghost
of my clumsy embraces
and the ephemeral feeling
of my cheek to your cheek
and my lips on your lips?
Do you turn around mid-movie,
a lame joke on your lips,
and realise I'm not there
to hear it?
Do you feel the emptiness
where I used to sit on your
knees?
Do you miss the scent of me
and the taste of perfume
when you bite my neck?
Do you see me taking your clothes
off when you put them on
in the morning?
Am I still present
in your dreams?
Do you miss my rants
about freedom and equality
and solecisms and hatred
and depression?
Do you miss taking care of me?
Can you see me wrapped around
you when you shower
and the steam hides the places
where I used to be?
Do I vulgarly and rudely
interrupt your dreams
and haunt your thoughts
and ache inside when you breathe?

I hope you do.
I hope I am.
I hope you regret
that you left.
I hope you wish
you had stayed.

I hope I've become
your epitome of a
long-lost dream.

She waited for him. She always waited for him.
Quarter past eight. Tap tap tap.
Her gold embellished sneakers repeatedly hit the floor.
******* down her iced coffee, pretending to read the paper,
her anticipation palpable.
Tick tock tock tock.
The clock seemed vulgarly obtrusive. Where was he?
Tap tap tap. Tock tock tock.
Sliding her paint-stained fingers over the paper.
urgent      socialite.
rescued     earnest
words jumped off the page incoherently floating across her gaze.


The door opened and there he was. Pinstripes.
Perfect teeth. Too perfect.
Triple Americano to go. Fifty cent tip. Smile.
Today had to be different. She decided in that moment.
She would follow him this time. She had to know.
Her eyes traveled with him through the glass for a moment
and then she was out the door.
Around the corner she could see his trail of dense smoke--and
then she walked through it--inhaling it
as if it was his gift to her.


On tenth street he stopped for gum. On Robertson Ave he picked a single flower.
He rubbed his left shoulder as if he was in a great deal of pain.
She would have taken it all from him.
He had finished the coffee by now, setting it atop
the concrete ashtray, shifting it back and forth
in the sand.
The sun was setting. Purple grey pierced
by yellows and orange. She wanted to know more.
But she also knew she couldn't. It was too perfect--
his silhouette. The smell in the air, city smell.
The kind of smell that tells a putrid truth.
The biting contrast was--
art, she thought. And just like that she stopped
and watched. Watched him fade
further and further into the blackness.


Each step he took away
from her, she cringed.
She wondered if she would ever be set free.
What was his life like? Really like?
Did he think of her?
Did he attempt to conjure up what she
looked like now?
Did he want to know if she still
had his eyes? And
perfect teeth?

Heard you’ve enticed fortune
All I see is that you’re much too
Engrossed on where to go now
Revelry magnetizing night into day
from your soul, telling me only a queen
could be enthralled by theses things

going absurdly like already history, croon it
going lightening like my record collection, blessed

Hiway right into daylight, wander bold to a million’d direction
Coolness leaning on a bookshelf, precious dawn lingering all around
Everybody awes to you, my ridiculous, strangely pure, strangely pure

The same gilded sun of western dreams
It shines so copper and lone for kinds as us.
Lord grant me ancient desires was on your mind.
How’d I know, well in how you live in bliss
Easily dismiss, with looking up wondering eyes

Halls here are devoted to paradise with richly intricate walls
Much like you, said it’s a journey if you’re aware
Be sagacious, take me real far, match box says welcome to LA
Queen of the roadhouse, windows inviting wild wind
Getting ahead of the dawn, we’ve long since started.

Heard you’ve always liked those
With eyes gleaming wild
Man, they say you’re outrageous
Yeah, beautiful, mysterious – reveling finds you
It’s free and lush music, my direction,
Don’t fear welcome to deathlessness

going absurdly like already history, croon it
going lightening like my record collection, blessed

Hiway into evening, writing verse as if you breathed it
Slickness on a sleek car, precious desert lingering around
Everybody loves you, vulgarly more, strangely pure, strangely pure

The lovely joys from the beginning of time
Sweet song of the blues when sung so soothes
Lord grant me endless endeavors was on your mind
Setting your sleep aside, driving in neon haze, closed eyes
Then you say, get up sunny wondering eyelashes

Glittering like a lagoon, isn’t it – jump in too!
Are you mad, like a wild cobra, pretty but I know you’ve power
I mean, they see you laughing, striking, phrases of genius
Adored with mystery like divine sudden messages
But loving the fun, dreaming of flying near the sun, arrows sent first

Two men were talking to God you might even say they were  praying both askeded for the same gift; vulgarly known as filth lucre-money.  Gods told them that they each could have their prayer answered but   they would have to decide whether they would put their faith in luck or merit.  The First said I am a democratic man I hardly can bear to to think I am better than any other so my choice is luck.  The second said well it hardly seems right that an undeserving man should be disproportionately rewarded,no that is not at all just.  I will put my faith in merit.  The gift was given to each and each retained his own conceits but when the wind from God blew and  nothing remained of either of their fortunes  All is Vanity- Nevertheless for Love' sake I shall fear the  Lord who gives me peace.

tonight i feel numb
I feel shocked slighted hurt downcast
by how small and ****** and lonely and ugly and evil
people can be
how deceptive and vulgarly so
they do things for the sake of appearances
when they know
and those who know them, know
that all of this is an act
that it means nothing
how smally they choose to sepd their life
and oh how lonely

Every now and then,
I come to weep
at the grave of a love
that was once so sweet,

I never realised it was poisoning us

How enthusiastically we took turns to stab it!
Once for each time we broke each others' hearts
When I looked at it one last time, I saw
You stabbed it way more than I did
But whenever I did, I did it with a rage so raw

It left me speechless

I didn't know the evil I could commit
Till you gifted me the dagger of unkept promises and lies
And asked me to take a hit


The night I gave it the final blow
I danced vulgarly over that lifeless love
I wouldn't have been so reckless
Had I known I'd mourn my loveless life
For days that now seem endless

The love we birthed after 20 years of lone labour
Had to be killed within 2 turns of seasons
Even though we claimed "it tried to **** us first"
I am still out of good enough reasons

I wish and pray
every day
I swear
For there to be trial for us
in a court
Of whose existence I'm uncertain
But where our love gets acquittal
And is declared pure and free of the pain
that we accused it of causing us
Whenever we couldn't nurture it well

For now, we mortal earthlings get all, but a moment of complete clarity
There is no redemption, yet
Just us, in our separate worlds
And the grave of love, under the memeory tree

So sometimes, when I find myself too heavy with tears
Under the umbrella of broken melodies, I take cover
And come to shed a few, by the grave of love
Which I created and destroyed with a lover