what happens when
Dark Fetish meets Radiance Sutra

finding it is like looking for a needle
in a haystack of needles
a dog meowing
night park astral planes with erections

a chromosphere with starry swollen labium
a purity purge, then taking it back
a pro life run away embryo
Debbie Dare and Bridgette Beware
with 3rd eyes blinking like traffic lights
trying to become tasty
while turning up their bottoms
for starving breatharians
who can't resist the allures of
Pandora's portable rubber genitals
they bought
at the five and dime tinsel towns  
Queen ***** Emporium

not everyone can walk in the light of truth
some people burn
like country fair corn fed Iowa lesbians
clucking kisses
asleep and awake at the same time

donut bumpers expecting the unexpected
in an unfathomable matrix
at a witches broom barn dance
during partner swap night
among straight couples
who only like rococo

Jekyll & Dad Samadhi
health, wealth & unhappiness
licking, spitting on each other
and having tantric *** the wrong way

you're safe now bwahhahhahaa

codependent sadomasochists
drift infinitely upward like psychotic marble roses
while Queen Opalala  @ ****** University
gets **** buttered and buckarooed
during the downward dog
to the music of the spheres and poems to **** by

a red head
bed head
**** in a cinematic pillow of flames
mouthing her ruby red lips
in a soft voice  
saying
a day without being forced to her knees
and a slap across the mouth
is a day without sunshine

I
take
my
Prophylactic's
everywhere
I
take
my
*****.
-

i've been reflecting on the topsy side
of feeling strong and healthy
and the turvy side of feeling
a sickly white morbidity
evoking a phantasmal contoured toilet shaped bed pan
and the scent of syringes
bathing in alcohol

when feeling better
i sleep less
feel more alert
eat lotus and drink bone broth
becoming more active
and ambitious
but with it
more demanding  
impatient  
raw with anxiety
agitated and vitriolic
like a buzzing electrical box
in a flood
with crisscrossing wires
shorting
and tainting the air  

when feeling poorly
i turn in on myself  
as if walking on my knees
wanting to avoid  interaction
feeling more and more
like a square peg in a round hole
i become docile
my insides a wandering ghost
in ethers of the unimaginable
a hanging mouth
hung on a face
like falling sand
  
i ask myself is illness
a drug
used to bow out
think about dead people
avoid hurt and stress
to let go 
as if floating through
some intestinal filaments
like an undigested spot of cheese
and a fish head
drawing closer to the shadows  
feeling the numbing of desire
and all the blah blah blah
so i'm not such an *******
cartwheeling terrors of hot air
with the language of vainglory

just a weight around the neck
of someone i love

one
two
three
take out your wee wee

four
five
grab your bride

six
seven
eight
open her gate

nine
ten
**** her then
....
commentary
Q...What do you like about this poem?
A...What I like about this poem is what it doesnt say