Friday, May 27, 2011

Girl Flowers Love Poem Attempt Number 13


My favorite places to romance girls are graveyards. Not just any yard, but those soporific lawns where stars like Jimmy Hendrix (a forefather of modern metal) and Bruce Lee were laid.

Last Sabbath day or that last blackened one that didn’t rain, a sexy melancholy metal-head —— adorned like a night crawler with a pit-bull collar, studded leather harness, chrome chains, brandishing long scarlet nails standing on black nine inch elevator podiums laced to the thigh in scarlet —— gave me a hand job near a phallic obelisk ménage a trios-ed between the Denny and the Boren family markers.  This was as fitting a place as any for a catholic boy who celebrates the death of his savior by planting his seed between fresh cut flowers laid on tombstones to wither and rust.

Jesus was planted in the tomb for three days before he rose out of this womb to a new kind of life.  This girl she likes the smell of roses.  I spray rosewater all over my body and she devours me.  Eats my flesh down to the bone, drinks my blood, and uses thin ribs to pick gristle out of her teeth. She gets into me like I get into her by way of the throne room where our two beings flow together like muddy puddles of water on a paved side street rippled and spider-webbed throughout by tree roots straining to redefine their space. My fire burnt through her veil the same way holy water burnt my flesh the first time I touched it to my forehead in Israel. I knelt down in Jesus’ tomb and Mary invited me to enter her womb.

We made love on stones saturated with obsidian knowledge. It was at that special time of day when the sun bends down to romance the western edge of our world. She smells fresh, like a girl flower.  I bathe myself in this scent.

—— March 7, 2010

Also check out my new wordpress website. It's a literary journal called Randomly Accessed Poetics! Submissions are open. I will be publishing literary works, explicit language pieces, and eventually a journal a relative wrote in the late 1800's detailing their journey to Oregon on the Oregon Trail. And when I gather enough submitted works from other people, I will be cobbling together an e-anthology called Randomly Accessed Poetics.


  1. clever, amusing, witty.... uh oh...

  2. Jesus C & H Sugar this poem is bad. I suppose if I trim it down I could make it better.