Screaming Orgasm

For a double sawbuck she’ll be
a good listener, someone pleasant
to have a cocktail with in dark, barely
lit lounge, might even pretend to care
what is being said and maybe offer a
kiss goodnight.

For half a yard, she’ll pretend
the Ladies is a tomb in winter with
a door that can be latched. Perform
guarantee-to-make-you-smile
services no matter how insistent
pleas to open up are.

For a hundred, your car or mine, is
on offer. Fold down seat action a
Go: choose your parking lot, secluded
spot.

For half a grand, you can have it all:
the whole Chinese menu from Column
A all the way to Column Z, plus
breakfast in bed or out of, and hot coffee
too.

Says she took acting lessons from a
life master, Christy Canyon, who
taught her everything a girl needs
to know to get ahead in The Life.

Has aspiration’s to play Vegas on her
back. After that, the sky’s the limit.

Shed

Peeking into my soul
from Oblivion—
I didn’t mind the peeking so much
as the mask

Identity theft at its finest
Fooled me for a while
maybe because
I was desperate to be fooled
Ain’t it funny how poets
got that primal need
to cram as many roles as possible
into one lifetime
to see the show from each and every seat
in the theater
We are born restless and on fire

So  now,
as you’re looking in the window,
dying to wear my skin—
wear away darling
It’s lying there just for you

And I’m long gone

either way I’ll be talking about my poems

I was the kind of youth
Who aspired to live a life
As a man of maxims.

I read too much Oscar Wilde
At a formative age
In fact
The day after I lost my virginity
I watched a production of A Woman of No Importance
And I remember quipping
For years afterwards
That it was the second event
That gave me more pleasure.

The bon mot I dropped
The most
Was one I found terribly droll:
Cocaine, I’d say, is the same as sex:
I only want it
When I’ve recently had some.

And though the years have passed
And I am no longer a partyboy
I am aware
As I age
That sexual hunger
Is more present
Than I’d hoped.

It does not go away with neglect,
But I do not struggle,
When in full mental health
To find someone
Who will touch me.

Dating is cheaper than cocaine
But sometimes the conversations it results in
Are just as tedious.

Either way,
I’ll be talking about my poems.

heaven & hell

she was a
broken
soul

lamentable to her
destiny
offered

her shadow seen
listless in
solid
dream

now spellbound
& wild in the
reeling rush

of heaven
& hell

Jalapeno Kiss’ Love Poem

jalapeno kiss
that’s what she’s called
even if she’s a japanese
rockabilly

nipples like bullets
point the way to the sunset

choppy areolas
like the waves of the ocean
when the cold sea wind blows

black hair flows
through the air
like snakes and griffin wings

a tattoo on the skin of life
drawn by a lustful
samurai

the master of bushido himself
would puke at the sight
of her eyes

she was licking a gherkin
her katana dripping red
on the white washi sheet
upon her bed.

she loved to write in kanji
the head of her last lover
punctuating the end of her haiku

the mantis satiated
she now uses her pickle
to write a love poem
on her clitoris

The Charlatan Song for The Great Burlesque

c’mon you fool
get into this circus
I know you want it
I know you’re waiting
to see saggy tits
swinging from a martini glass
demons dancing all round
a rock’n’roll song
played by green men
with shining bellies

we love gonzos
their eyes are like velvet gloves
for the curves of our dancers
they follow dunes of skin
gonzos you are the blessed folk

c’mon you fool
you’re drunk
you’re made
you’re sweating delicious
you’re bloody horny
we got all kinds of
lollipops of lust

young girls
thin and smooth
old men in tuxedos
jazzing all night long
mature women
giving you the pulp of life

don’t be shy
this the holy fruit
it’s not a sin at all
short is time of this show
so open your eyes
drink in the pot
of our lovely witches

sabbath are for oldies
we shake the earth
on a wooden stage
it’s burlesque baby
and I’m here to say

c’mon you fool
get in and enjoy

Speed Junkie’s Carousel

the sun comes up
as I fall deep down into the rabbit hole
of drunken stupor
at the crossroads of my soul.
Let me sleep, devil!
I’ll take a ride on
the speed junkie’s carousel
behind closed eyelids
and wait for
the hellhounds to start chasing
me through the day
towards my misery
and the next drinks
with the devil patiently waiting.

She had fuck

the world tattooed
in scrolled lettering
on her neck, foxy
lady on her exposed
left shoulder, sexy
in bold gold CAPS
within her gold hoop
earrings. I wondered
what else she had
written on her body
no one could see
through her form
fitting shift & how
much it would cost
to find out

I HAVE MY EYE ON

a dragonfly
trapped
in sticky strands
of web

a spider
slithering down
to investigate

I rate this
just below
disemboweling
my victim
in a back alley

but well above
screaming obscenities
at some stranger
in the street

At My Foundation’s Weakest Point

Maybe
there are dimensions
gradients
unspoken
design flaws
cerebral pathways
traveled recklessly
tripping in youth
thoughts thunk
freaking myself out
My heart! Help!
I don’t want to jump
I don’t want to have to die!
Remembered.